We don’t have much to report this week. Between the heat waves and the flash floods, we didn’t know whether to wind our watch or build an ark.
On the one hand, the Pens are lighting up the city with their Stanley Cup tour; on the other, the Bucs are so consistently blowing ninth inning leads that cardiologists are advising their less robust patients to stop watching.
Watching a Pirate game has become so potentially demoralizing that we have had to prematurely direct our sporting attention to football. Last month’s NFL draft did not escape our notice, especially the new crop of unconventionally named rookies. There weren’t any obvious fits this year such as the 2015 draft of LSU linebacker, Barkevious Mingo by Cleveland, home of the “Dog Pound”, but there were some noteworthy entries.
The Steelers struck at least silver with their 2nd round selection of wideout Juju Smith-Schuster. Every dropped pass will be bad juju. We personally were pulling for Forrest Lamp, a Western Kentucky lineman. The Chargers took him in the 2nd round, and he’s a 300 pounder, but it still would’ve been fun to yell, “Run, Forrest, run!” Or we could’ve taken Taco Charlton (1st round, Cowboys) who, teamed up with Le’Veon Bell, could have starred in some ad campaigns for, let’s see, Wendy’s or something.
The whole weird name phenomenon isn’t restricted to sports either.
On May 30, in Springfield Massachusetts, a woman at a gas station convenience store became violent and hurled a tray of donuts at a cashier. Naturally this attracted the attention of law enforcement who took her into custody only to have her attack an officer by kicking him in a very sensitive area. Her name? Miracle Crimes.
First off, if your last name, your surname, your nom de famille, is “Crimes”, you’re probably going to be a suspect in every caper that crosses the police blotter. So wouldn’t it be worth considering a legal name change? Your extended family, okay, your Crimes family, might hold it against you for a generation or two, but in the end it would avoid a lot of problems. What if one of the male Crimes’s married a girl named “Violet”? Or joined the Army and got promoted to the rank of Major? Awkward.
Then there’s “Miracle.” Doesn’t it seem a little presumptuous to name your kid “Miracle”? The only people who should be permitted to name their kid Miracle are Smokey Robinson and a starter on the ‘69 Mets.
Finally, there’s the surreal case of Reality Winner.
We’re thinking she must have been an only child. Her doting parents looked down at her in her little bassinet and said to each other, “Let’s name her ‘Reality’.” Anyone with a passing familiarity with infants knows what reality is for a baby. It is eating, sleeping and pooping. Oh, they’ll give you a few coos and giggles here and there, but let’s be realistic: if they’re not eating, sleeping or pooping, they’re crying. That’s the harsh Reality.
The Winner surname is just unfortunate in a “Boy were you asking for it” way. As a kid, every time she lost a foot race or a chess match or a game of H-O-R-S-E, there would come along somebody to shout, “Hey Winner – you’re a loser!” And it was probably a guy much like President Trump saying it. No matter how you feel about the administration or the president’s policies, you have to figure he would have been exceptionally good at schoolyard taunting.
And that’s where Reality took a bad turn. That’s why she couldn’t resist the opportunity to lash out at the type of person who had been annoying her for her entire life.
What about newspaper names? What, you think Valley Mirror is a funny name? What about the Tombstone (Arizona) Epitaph? You have to wonder if the paper boy has a hard time delivering the Laramie (Wyoming) Boomerang. Our favorite is the Linn (Missouri) Unterrified Democrat. Let’s hope they published last November 9th.
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