NaNoBlogMo, Day 6 – But you can’t ever find yourself at one of those gift shops where they have the specialized keychains and whatnot

Reader, you and I both know that the true benefit to being a celebrity isn’t the fame or the awards. It’s not the power. It’s not even being able to spend $3,900 to have a $12 curry shipped to you. No, it’s the knowledge that due to your wealth and status, you’re able to give your children ridiculous names with impunity.

You’ve heard of Apple Martin, of course. Blue Ivy. North West, which seems a bit mean. And everyone’s favorite, Pilot Inspektor Lee.



Earlier this summer, the world welcomed Story Elfman. Story will likely shoot his first documentary at the age of three, using a video camera with a hand crank.

I collect unusual names. The best I’ve personally encountered remains an acquaintance, and thus his tale cannot be sung here. However, I shall tell you of three others:

Layla – Layla was my first girlfriend. We met on a BBS**. She was an artistic, punk-goth teen, all piercings and bright red hair and midnight-colored clothing,*** and we bonded over Nine Inch Nails and Shakespeare. She said that when she was born, “Layla” was playing from a nearby patient’s room. Her mom, who may or may not have known she was naming her daughter after a song where a man falls in love with an unavailable woman and then goes insane, was a fan of the melody. At 16, I hadn’t met anyone named after a piece of music, and I asked Layla to show me her driver’s license. I think this annoyed her, but she also appeared to be used to it.

**Kids, ask your parents.

***If you know me and you’re trying to picture this, I swear we weren’t as mismatched as it sounds.

Sunshine – I met Sunshine only once. She was the older sister of Brian, an elementary school classmate of mine. Brian and I became estranged after he stole my Nintendo Gameboy from the coat closet and used a knife to scratch my name off the base. For some reason, I suspected him and snuck into the classroom when everyone else was gone. I rummaged through his bag and found it, the word CAMANN still visible under his knife marks. There was never a confrontation–just theft. His sister was nice, though.

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There was nothing cooler in 1989…not even a Trapper Keeper. But let’s be honest: if you didn’t have a Trapper Keeper, you were intensely jealous of everyone who DID.

Starbuck – In the summer of 1998, I hadn’t heard of Battlestar Galactica, and the reboot was still several years away. It’s clear to me now that Starbuck was named after the original version of the BSG character, but at the time, I assumed his parents had such an affinity for Starbucks coffee that they’d named him after the brand. I reasoned that the  singular form made sense because calling a boy “Starbucks” was clearly product placement run amok.

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My personal goal is to someday meet a Yukon Cornelius.





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