This week, I got hit with not one, but TWO crazy baby names.I’m just going to come right out with it, because I don’t want to keep you in suspense: The first kid is named “Seven.” The second one is named “Zee.”
By the way, in case you weren’t sure, Seven is a girl and Zee is a boy.
While names like Seven and Zee are probably on the mundane side for people out in Hollywood, in my neck of the woods, they are not quite as popular. Most of the kids around here are named Sam and Chris and Ashley and Britney… not Apple and Zuma andFifi Trixibelle (yes, really). Not that those are bad names… but they are perhaps better suited for soft drinks and dogs.
I tried to give the parents of Seven and Zee the benefit of the doubt. Maybe Seven was the seventh kid in that family, or maybe it was a lucky number in someone’s life. But this was not the case. According to the mom, they just thought a number name would be more interesting than a name name. Apparently it was between Five and Seven, and when the baby was born, they decided she looked more like a Seven than a Five. I saw pictures. Personally, I think she was a Two.
Then there is Zee. In this case, they named the baby after the father’s nickname which was bestowed upon him by his fraternity brothers whilst in a drunken haze. That seems like a very meaningful reason to stick a kid with a name that is just a letter. OK, to be fair, it is three letters, because it is Zee, not Z. But if you’re going to give your kid a name with three random letters, why not do something that people could relate to, like QVC or MTV?
This is what I was thinking about when I walked into Starbucks and ran into the friend who had told me about Baby Zee. I shared my thoughts about this whole baby name business and she agreed that it was all a little over the top.“But those are not the worst I’ve heard,” she said.
“I know someone who named their kid Genghis.”
“Why? Was Mussolini taken?”
“And another couple who named their kids after two different ski runs in Colorado,” she continued. “One is named Zaugg and the other is called Hyrup.”
“Those sound like names for Hobbits or evil emperors of the Galactic Alliance,” I said.
“Ironically, they got a dog and named it ‘Bill,’” she continued.
“Ah. And how does everyone feel about that?” I wondered.
“The dog was very appreciative, and the kids are in therapy.”
I nodded in understanding and then thought about this issue: I’m sure that the parents think they are doing something special and unique by giving their kids bizarre names. But the interesting thing about kids is, most of the time, all they want to do is fit in. Try fitting in with a name like Pilot Inspektor (yes, really). You don’t really blend. While we debated all this, the coffee barrista raised up an unclaimed cup at the counter and yelled, “Decaf!”“That’s me!” I replied. Hmm. ‘Decaf?’ I could live with that.
Note: For more “Lost in Suburbia,” visit Tracy’s blog at www.lostinsuburbia.net
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