Journal Entry: Daughter Naming

Journal entry, 1/20/14: Justice Minotaur saith: “I had a daughter born in Beirut. This was either around the time of the Malai Massacre or in 1985, when I first tasted the Baskin Robbins ice cream ‘Quarterback Crunch’–I do not recall. What a wonderfully clever name–the ice cream, that is. I never participated in naming her, for reasons I do not wish to get into here, but I will at least say that it involved a pair of extremely wide Adidas, a stolen van, and fourteen gallons of imported gargle. If she were to come back now, I think I would name her after a Shakespeare character or maybe a body part. I am thinking Clytemnestra Spectrum. Oh, is spectrum not a body part–and what, she is not a character of the Bard’s? OK, how about, oh, heck, I can’t think of anything. Maybe Desdemona’s Lungs.” Further Minotaur saith not.


Journal Entry: Baby Naming

Journal entry, 11/6/13. Christmas-Eager Thomerson, a local construction contractor afflicted by evidently incurable halitosis, was here yesterday installing another fake door, bringing the total number of fake doors in the compound to twenty-seven. Justice Minotaur believes, as he has said many times, that “fake doors are the key to stopping a burglar.” They can also make life difficult for the inhabitants of a home, for at some point it becomes difficult to remember which doors are real and which are fake (fake toilets are even more confounding, and the compound has one hundred and eleven of them–these are real toilets, but they are not connected to the water or sewer system, and both bowl and tank are filled to the brim with cement). In any case, the contractor was drawn to Minotaur’s charisma and asked if Minotaur would name the former’s son who was born within the last week and has been going by “Jube,” the nation-state’s default name for otherwise unnamed children. Minotaur accepted the assignment and said he would announce the name the following morning (which was earlier today). Taking the task quite seriously, Minotaur neither ate nor slept and reread as much as he could of the Will and Ariel Durrant eleven-volume The Story of Civilization. At six o’clock this morning, Minotaur climbed to the highest point on the roof of the compound wearing nothing but a pair of authentic boxing shorts and a wig and, turning his face to a brisk wind blowing in from the east, declared in his loudest voice what the child was to be named. His words were completely inaudible to Mr. Cornwall, who stood in the pasture looking up at Minotaur and was the only witness to the event. Minotaur safely made his way back down to the ground and repeated the name (which he also spelled), which is “Grandpa Tomerson Thomerson.” Mr. Cornwall then wrote up an official announcement conveying this news to the contractor and sent the dispatch by a diminutive courier borne on llamaback.

Later in the day, Mr. Cornwall found a large discarded sheet of notepaper in the kitchen wastebasket (underneath a heap of wet gourd innards) that appears to provide further insights into how Minotaur arrived at this name. The note, when uncrumpled and flattened, measures approximately 27 1/4 inches high by 23 3/4 inches wide. It was inscribed on only one side, evidently with the use of an ecru-colored golf pencil with red lead, which was found affixed to the verso of the discarded note with cheap electrician’s tape. The inscription on the note reflects a kind of grade-school mentality, with the first word roughly horizontal in the center of the page and the continuation of the text being written in a spiraling clockwise pattern (assuming a regular, functioning clock and not some kind of broken or trick clock). The diameter of the spiral at its outward edges is approximately 22 inches. The golf pencil, which is roughly 2 1/2 inches in length with a dull point, has three lines of tiny gold block lettering: “Mike’s Car Repair and Wig Laundry–and Also We Do Dog Shampooing–Call Us or Burn in Hades.” The text on the note, all of which is in Minotaur’s handwriting, reads as follows (artificial line breaks have been inserted for reader convenience).

Bam Bam Mikey Ablerson (hyphenate to Bam-Bam?). Not bad. But implies father’s name is Abler. Maybe Adlerson instead? No, also has false implication.

Paul Bunyan Thomerson. An insult to Bunyan.

Morgue Thomerson-son. Not bad–clearly shows he is the son of Thomerson. Not sure about “Morgue”–kid might become macabre in thoughts and we already have enough spook alleys.

Stevie Cash? Too American. Same for Charlie Soundtrack. Tommy Steele. Ricky Sunshine.

Instance from scripture–“his name shall be John”. But then maybe thinks he is the Baptist and we get the same problem we had the other day with that out-of-control redder drowning sheep.

Tomerson Thomerson. I like very much. Gives higher chances that one of names is spelled right. Simplifies–people only have to remember how to say first or last name, not both.

Big Sheila Thomerson. Would be great girl name. Reserve in case child turns out to be girl upon further inspection.

Here Comes Thomerson! (exclamation point is part of name) a little unusual, admittedly

Waterboard Thomerson. Kind of cool now because of connection to torture but might become outdated with inevitable spread of humanitarian impulse.

Kirk’s Speedy HVAC Service–No Job Too Small. Starts OK with the Kirk part but then seems like it is turning into a business name somewhere in there, which is not necessarily bad I guess.

Korbin Minotaur Jr. This is probably not the time to reveal that I am probably the boy’s father. Maybe wait until some benefit in it, such as if child wins all-expenses-paid trip to Jamaica that he can’t use.

O.J. the Killer Simpson-Johnson. Solid–but law requires surname to be same as father’s surname. Other names that would be good if any surname could be chosen: Christmas McAllister, V. Hamburger Monday, Warrior Butz, Colonel Richard C. Plumworthy IV, Tables Pain, Kaleem Abdur-Jabbal, Officer Aligned Powers, Calves Wilson, Burke Chocolate-Watson.

Uncle Thomerson. Very nice–makes it easy once he has nieces and nephews. No one has to remember the title “uncle” plus the name; just have to remember “uncle” and they are livin’ easy b/c “uncle” is his name and his title/role.

OK, idea for a catchy one-word moniker like Noah, Charlemagne, or Shakira. Idea is “Holybadge.” Fabulous name–even fantastico!!! (Reserve name for self in case I have any more children–do not mention aloud.)

Lightning and Tides? Promising start here but not sure where to go with it. Maybe more of a magic act than a person’s name.

1-2-3-4-5 Thomerson. Would help me remember combination to my luggage.