Tag Names

Name it!

Michael 6 Comments

Name that…

Did you ever wonder where some products get their names? Other than it looks like one, why should a Brillo pad be called a Brillo pad.

I started thinking about these one day in the shower when I took a close look at the shampoo bottle, proudly proclaiming it is made of five vitamins and oils. Oh, so that’s why, I said to myself. And from there I was off and running.

I’m all knowing when it comes to pharmaceutical brands, they being such a big part of my livelihood. There are many stories of drugs being named after researchers’ wife’s and children. Sometimes a glimpse of what they do or don’t do is hidden in the name. The first commercially available benzodiazepine, chlordiazepoxide was noted to not cause a loss of equilibrium at sun-sedation doses and that led Roche to name its brand of the drug, Librium. When they made it more potent and released diazepoxide a few years later, they capitalized on brand recognition of the “ium” ending, and as a nod to its use as a sedative, started it off with the Latin for “good night” and named it Valium.

But what of the thousands of products out there that seem to be related. Are they? I there a connection between Kleenex, Spandex, Tilex, and Pyrex? No, nor among the other 600 trademarked products needing in EX. It just sounds good.

Indeed, the letter X in a brand name is much sought after, as is Y and Z.  Pfizer pharmaceuticals hit the letter trifecta with its brand of the antibiotic linezolid when they branded it Zyvox.

A popular brand name construct is combining letters with numbers, ala 7Up or in the company name 3M. Sometimes it’s just shorthand as with 3M which started as Minnesota Mining and Manufacturing. Sometimes it means something even if nobody knows what as with 7Up. (The most popular theory is that it is from its original 7 ingredients and the bubbles go up.) Sometimes the alphanumeric text means something and all the world (except me) knows it like that shampoo. Figure out what it is? Yep. Alberto VO5, named for the five vitamins and oils in the formula. Now I just have to figure out who the heck this Alberto guy is.

Happiness experts say there is joy in being content with ourselves and not missing out in what others are doing. We say joy is not being happy we are not missing out on some part of life. We are joyful because we are taking part in it! We talked about that in the most recent Uplift post, Fearlessly Joyful.

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Type Casting

Michael 8 Comments

Last week I took a couple hours out of a day and put on Breakfast at Tiffany’s.  It had been forever, or as Holly Golightly would say, just simply forever, since I had last watched it. I think Breakfast at Tiffany’s and I think Audrey Hepburn sitting on a fire escape singing Moon River. It was the first song I learned to play on the piano. The first song that wasn’t a lesson. That was the perfect song in the perfect scene for that part of the movie. A frightened, sensitive girl playing the sure, knowing woman beginning to realize she might not be either of those people.

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Audrey Hepburn sings “Moon River” in YouTube

You know Audrey was never meant to be Holly. The part was supposed to go to Marilyn Monroe. Say what you will, it would never have become a classic with Monroe, who would remove all doubts of Holly’s income source and turned Moon River into a parody of itself. That is if we even still had Moon River in the movie considering it was written specifically for Audrey Hepburn. But its title notwithstanding, this post is not about Audrey’s performance. Nope. It’s about 3 others and then some.

In order of appearance, those three are George Peppard, Patricia Neal, and Buddy Ebsen. Everybody knows George Peppard. Thanks to the A-Team. But everybody knew George even before the A-Team. He was the “name” to get people to watch the A-Team. But who was George Peppard, other than a name? The only movie I ever saw him in is Breakfast at Tiffany’s.

Next comes Patricia Neal. Another name everyone knows, even before the coffee commercials.  Odd, I remember the coffee but not the brand that was advertised. Other than one other movie where she also plays a woman of questionable morals, I’d never seen her in any movie other than Breakfast at Tiffany’s.

And finally Buddy Ebsen. Best known as Jed Clampett and/or Barnaby Jones, he appeared in literally hundreds of movies and TV shows. Almost everyone identifies Buddy as the famous former stage and screen dancer. And yet, the only movie I ever saw Buddy play in is Breakfast at Tiffany’s. We could have counted Wizard of Oz but for his allergies to tin colored makeup.

It’s not odd that I watch a movie and have never some or even several of the actors in any other movie. It is odd that three famous people, names I know as well as my own, I had never seen in any other movie (or in Ms. Neal’s case, one other). A bunch of people that if you were to ask me, who were they, what did they do, even for knowing their names as well as my own, I know nothing of them. Couldn’t even write a mini-bio.

It had me wondering, some day when I’m not around anymore, and if my name should come up, will there be anything for anyone to remember, or will I have been perfectly type-casted as nobody special?

There are always people special to us in our own lives, but they will not always be here. They represent the one constant that never will change. Sometimes it takes a death for us to discover the value of life. How do we value it? You can read that in the latest Uplift, Today. Not negotiable.

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Did you ever wonder

Michael 7 Comments

Things I’ve sat and wondered about this week.

Winter is the coldest season in the northern hemisphere. It’s also when the earth is closest to the sun.

How many “new year days” are there in a year? If we celebrated the “new year” 23 days ago, what was the “new year” that started yesterday? There are actually 26 different days that begin a new year around the world. Some are solar, some lunar, some lunisolar, some religious, some an arbitrary date. One thing that is constant, there are all cause for celebration and they are all celebrated!

An extra tidbit about the Lunar New Year, even though it is called “lunar,” it is actually lunisolar in that both the position and movement of the sun and the moon determine the beginning of the year. Although it is generally associated with Asian cultures, not all Asian communities will celebrate it on the same day every year. Because of the great physical size of the continent, in some years there is enough distance between major Asian centers that the position of the moon will be in different phases on the same day and result in the new moon observed on different days. Thus there will be a different determination for beginning the new year. Also, not all Asian communities identify their years the same. For example, this year the Chinese are celebrating the Year of the Rabbit while in Vietnam it is recognized as the Year of the Cat.

How much does our brain do without telling us? You may know a favorite hobby of mine is painting. I add a heart into every piece I paint. It is my way of telling whoever sees it (whom ever?) (whatever!) that they are loved. Often when I finish a painting I will set it aside for a few days, then hang I up and take a good look at the finished piece. And often find several hearts throughout it that I hadn’t realized I had painted.

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Can you find the heart?

While I am thinking about painting, did you know that black and white are not colors? To a pure physicist they aren’t. (And if you are a pure physicist and you say they are, just let me have this one please.) Colors are colors because of the amount of reflected light our eyes perceive. The different colors are formed by the different wavelengths light emits as a result of that reflection through whatever the light is passing. White is the presence of all of the possible reflected wavelengths the light may take on, and black is the absence of any reflected light.

Another interesting “color question” is, if there are only 3 primary colors, why are there 7 colors in a rainbow? The three primary colors can be combined to form the 3 secondary colors. In theory, these are the basic “building blocks” of all other colors. If you look at the light as it passes through a prism you can easily identify the primary colors (red, yellow, and blue) and three secondary colors (orange, green, and purple). But they are not perfect divisions of color.  Each color bleeds into its neighbor, the secondary colors between the primary colors. We see seven colors in the rainbow because between primary blue and the ultra violet wavelength where all light is absent resulting in black, blue goes through two stages or hues, cyan and indigo, before turning purple. A rainbow just as easily could be considered 6 colors but what would Roy B. Giv say about that?

A few years ago I considered changing the name of the blog. The Real Reality Show Blog was born on Nov 7, 2011 (990 posts ago) during the hay day of reality TV shows which bore no semblance to reality. I wanted a blog that was reflective of reality, at least my realty, and thus the unwieldy title was chosen. I suppose a number of times I wished I had an easier to remember, to say, or to type blog identifier that still reflected who I am. A while ago I thought I had come across the perfect description. Given that the posts are the ramblings of all that I am, I should title the blog what I am, and thus I thought, what am I? Aha. I am a single white male. And the stories are of a kind that a single white male would encounter. I thought that was a perfectly descriptive blog name. A Single White Male. And then I thought, but what would the email from WordPress to the author of a blog that I chose to follow read? Why it would read, “Dear [Blog owner], Congratulations, A Single White Male is now following you.” Umm, no.

Did you ever notice, when I do one of these brain dump type posts, the entries get longer as we get further along with it?

Have a great week! Next week I’ll try to be more thought provoking.

There are many sources of help but help gets us only so far. Don’t expect others to do for you. Ultimately, you have to do the work. We talked about this last week in Uplift! on ROAMcare.org. Read what we said about it here.

Saving SPAM

Michael 3 Comments

Some time ago in the not too terribly distant past but distant enough that a gentle reminder wouldn’t be out of the question, I posted an entry that began with a one-sided discussion about spam e-mail although that wasn’t the focus of the post. Likewise, this one will start with spam – emails and others.

At least once a day I check the spam email folder and more days than not I find an email in there that is definitely not spam. I often wonder how they determine what can and can’t be let through when I also, and usually on the same days, wonder how they determined an email that got to my inbox was let through. What was it about my mechanic’s email reminding me to bring my car in for service that made it suspicious enough to be shuttled into the Junk folder yet the one to me from me declaring I could “lose 61 pounds in 4 weeks” seemed perfectly normal and allowed admittance to the safety of the Inbox? (And why 61 pounds? Did 60 sound too unbelievable?) But I didn’t start this to discuss what got into the Junk folder. But while I’m here . . .

2021-06-23Is it just the email clients I use, and there are 4 of them (the laptop, desktop, tablet, and phone all use different applications to access my email), or does everybody have multiple junk and spam folders to hold undesirable dispatches? Mine has Junk, Junk, Spam, sometimes Spambox, and sometimes Junk Mail, and always at least three of them. How do they decide? And who are they anyway?

Speaking of They, who are they who decides what gets to be called a virus. My anti-virus program pops up at least once a day to remind me of additional services it can provide – for an additional fee. If it was a phone call it would be routed to the “Silenced” folder as a possible spam call by the phone’s version of a Junk folder. (And speaking of viruses, even though we weren’t really, why is virus bad when you’re talking about computers but viral is good? Who makes this stuff up?) Naturally the same thing happens with the phone’s spam filter as the email. Perfectly innocent calls like the automated reminder from the doctor’s office gets tagged as possible spam and silenced while three different people expressing their concern that my car warranty has expired are let through. At least the phone and email “blockers” don’t cost me an annual fee to be wrong.

SpamBut do you want to know what really annoys me about all this? Spam. It’s rendered SPAM as an undesirable. SPAM as in Special Processed American Meat by the Hormel Corporation. Since 1937, SPAM has had its haters too but more lovers for sure. By the way, SPAM does not stand for Special Processed American Meat. That was a sobriquet given it during WWII by non-American troops treated to the canned delicacy. SPAM is actually a portmanteau of Spiced Ham although it is available in a variety of flavors, even (ugh) pumpkin spice.

There have been a billion recipes written for SPAM and a million cookbooks to hold them. (Too hyperbolic? Well, there are a lot!) There is even an annual SPAM cooking competition. At least there was until the pandemic forced its cancellation last year. The point is SPAM is an unexpectedly wonderful American treasure. Naturally we should confuse it with spam, a expectedly awful pile of junk.

Canned ChickenIt’s a good thing there aren’t any filters in the canned meat section of the supermarket. If there were, we’d be reduced to eating . . .

. . . canned whole chicken?

Now that’s some spam!

The Name Game

Michael Leave a comment
It’s been said a mind is a terrible thing to waste. I think mine is a lost cause. Yesterday while on the Internet searching for new phone providers (ugh) and a reasonable way to make sweet potato fries crispy (1400 degree oil and then only if it’s the third full moon of the month), I wandered into requirements for establishing a non-profit foundation (there are a lot!), a discussion if malpractice insurance should be considered if you’re retired but still doing volunteer work (yes, because lawyers), whatever became of blonde furniture (it’s still out there but is really expensive), and the top selections for baby names in the 1950s.
 
HMNIMaybe it is because I am a child of the 50s but those names were sort of boring. I mean they weren’t. ad names, still aren’t, but except for Robyn with a “y” on the girls side and Ian for the boys, there are no names that make you scratch your head and go hmmm. If you were in elementary school in the 60s these were your classmates. I had at least one of each at my 6th grade graduation. Except for poor Ian. No Ian.
 
What I found interesting is that although these were and still are good, strong names, they have all disappeared. The number one girls name in the 50s didn’t make the top ten in any of the remaining 20th century decades. It took until 80s for the boys mid-century leader to fall off the board and by then only 2 of the top ten 1950s names remained on the list at all. By the 90s only one boys name from the 50s top ten lost remained. The girls names faired even more poorly. Just one decade later there were onIy two repeaters in the top ten and they both were gone by the 70s.
 
By the time the I had poured over those lists of names curiosity got the better of me. In addition to wondering whatever because of Jennifer I also wondered what are today’s parents calling their children. I pulled up the Social Security website and searched for the latest complete year of given names. If you’ve not been to ssa.gov you should spend some time there. They do more than issue the nine digit ID numbers so sought after on the dark web. There I found the top ten lists of baby names for last year. No surprises. They are different but the same. Good strong names but no shockers. I am sure in sixty years or so those children will wonder what became of classmates they will be meeting for the first time a few years from now. 
 
There is one surprise. William, the number 8 most popular boys name in the 1950s who never showed up on another list from the 19-anythings is back. I wonder if he will blaze a trail for the other 19 to follow. Even Ian.
 
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Come on ev’rybody, I say now let’s play a game

I betcha I can make a rhyme out of anybody’s name

The first letter of the name

I treat it like it wasn’t there

But a “B” or an “F” or an “M” will appear

And then I say “Bo” add a “B” then I say the name

Then “Bo-na-na fanna” and “fo”

And then I say the name again with an “”f” very plain

Then “fee fi” and a “mo”

And then I say the name again with an “M” this time

And there isn’t any name that I can’t rhyme

Ian! Ian, Ian bo-be-nan

Bo-na-na, fanna fo-fe-nan

Fee fi mo-me-man. Ian!

Shirley Ellis

What’s in a (Nick)Name

Michael 1 Comment
As we move deeper and deeper into our isolation it’s becoming harder and harder to find an article, post, blog, podcast, phone call (!) that doesn’t reference COVID-19. But I think I’ve finally found something I can write about where the virus isn’t right up there in the first paragraph. Ooops.
 
Anyway… how about death? Actually death notices – you know, obits, necrologies, life tributes, obituaries. I’ve noticed something about them, oh yes I have indeed. And not just that there are getting to be a lot of them out there nor that I haven’t shown up in one yet. I’m seeing that a lot of people don’t seem to know their own name. I’m guessing here.
 
Just recently there have been a lot of obituaries in the paper for people with multiple names. I don’t mean the deceased married woman who is listed with both her married and maiden names. I mean people with 2, sometimes 3 given names. I saw one just this morning (real name changed to protect his guardian angel from being teased by the other guardian angels): Joseph “JB” “Joey,” “Scooter” Brown. Ummmm. Really? Are there people reading the obituaries coming across Joey’s name and aren’t sure if they only saw Joseph listed that they could not be sure if that was the same Joey who was their friend? And those who didn’t know him as anything but Scooter, what are the chances they even know Scooter Who?
 
I saw a lot of them over the past few days, and some pretty colorful monikers too. Stucky, Gar Gar, Dickie Lou, Butch, Baby, Babe, Mac (whose last name did not start Mc or Mac), Birdie, and Stitch to name several more than a few.
 
I remember the gang my father hung out with. Nobody had a real name. Actually they all did but they didn’t Anglicize their names so they used nicknames to make calling them easier. Among them were Bunny, Ninny, Patsy, Mare, Jojo, and Tuner. These were all guys by the way. But the obituary didn’t read John “Bunny” Doe. It was just John Doe and everybody knew that was Bunny. No, multiple choice names weren’t necessary and they still got good send offs. Mostly because everybody knew everybody then and the crowd at the funeral home was already spilling out to the parking lot before the obituary was even published. I can’t imagine the funeral director would even put an order through for Ninny to be printed on the prayer cards. Some of the other names might even make a prayer card spontaneously combust! 
 
I can’t imagine my obituary reading anything but the name I have on my driver’s license. And I’m not so sure about this trend of putting pictures in obituaries either. You look at some of them, “John Doe, 93, died in his sleep after a long, long, long illness,” and there’s a picture of some young guy in full hiking regalia climbing out of a canoe. If it gets to where they insist on a picture then I guess if they’re going to use my driver’s license name they might as well use that picture too. And I already have the plaque for the drawer preordered and that has the name from the check I sent them to pay for the engraving. Just fill in the end date. 
 
Hmm, you know, I wonder what’s on Scooter’s headstone.
 
 
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Nay Nee, I Say

Michael 4 Comments

I once toyed with the idea of changing the blog name to better represent who I am. But I was concerned how some to whose blogs I subscribe would take receiving an email from WordPress saying “Congratulations, A Single White Male is now following you.” And then there’s that whole “weren’t you something else before” thing to deal with.

Myanmar doesn’t have that problem. In fact, it is because of that country that I thought of this at all. One scarcely ever hears reference to Myanmar that it isn’t immediately followed by “formerly known as Burma.” Indeed it is. And indeed even WordPress refers to it as “Myanmar (Burma)” in its statistics reports. It’s been a fairly recent change but not much more recent than Bangladesh, Belize, or Zimbabwe and not as recent as Cambodia and Somalia yet you never hear their “formerly known as” designations.

MyanmarIt all came to my attention as I was reading a book. A minor character working as a data miner (legally and legitimately) had completed a project. As he submitted it he told the recipient to be sure to call him, don’t email him, with any questions because he will be leaving for vacation to Southeast Asia in the morning and won’t be bringing his laptop. He explains that it is very difficult to bring electronics into Myanmar “which you may know as Burma.” First of all, who talks that way? And secondly, for a character appearing on only seven pages of a 460 page novel, he’s being pretty cheeky taking that tone, wouldn’t you say?

It seems that we’ve been double designating Myanmar as that place formerly known as Burma since it barely stopped being known as Burma. I refer you to the 1996 episode of Seinfeld when J. Peterman escapes his world to, in his words (word?) “Burma.” He tells Elaine “You most likely know it as Myanmar, but it will always be Burma to me.” Admittedly, this makes finding Myanmar on a map easier if you haven’t updated your Google Maps since 1989. By that same token though, it would be handy if we started calling Mumbai formerly known as Bombay or St. Petersburg formerly known as Leningrad formerly known as Petrograd formerly known as St. Petersburg. Ok, maybe that one might not be so easy.

I think if you’re going to change your name, just do it and let every else figure out who or what you were before.

If you have an opinion I’d love to hear it in the comments. If I don’t respond right away, don’t fret over that. I might take a few days off and see a play or two and maybe do some shopping in New York City.

Formerly known as New Amsterdam.

 

Whatball?

Michael 3 Comments

Only 40 more days until hockey season. Forty days. If Noah could make it, I can. The problem I have that our intrepid Biblical sailor never had to overcome is that football is in its preseason and will start some 30 days before hockey. Around here (here seemingly being anywhere bordered by the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans and Mexico and Canada) football dominates.

As soon as the NFL entered their preseason activities sometime back at the beginning of summer with “OTAs” whatever they are, football highlighted the sports pages. When the colleges and high schools entered their “preseasons,” it took over. Baseball, golf, tennis, auto racing, horse racing, and any other summer sport went on the inside pages. Yesterday’s email of “headline stories!” from the local paper mentioned 9 can’t miss articles to read, 7 of them football related.

Football has a place. For the young kid crowd, the peewee set, it’s a terrific outlet. It doesn’t require much skill, no physical agility, and little intelligence, while still offering the immature male an opportunity to run amok, yell and scream, and hit each other with abandoned. But by the time they reach 16 you’d think they would be out of that stage preparing to terrorize everybody else when they are awarded drivers licenses.

FootBallI don’t even understand how the sport got its name. Baseball employs bases. Basketballs are aimed at baskets. Ice hockey is played on ice. Soccer players sock each other. A football is a …. What? A local sports writer who is a voter in the football hall of fame selection process has often said that he would never vote for a kicker to be enshrined in that hall. Yet the football kicker is the only football player on the football team who actually uses his foot in the play of the game.

Just forty more days. Forty days. Time to gather two centers, two left wings, two right wings, two left defense, two right defense, two goalies, two coaches, two pucks, two Zambonis, two….

 

Hi, Confused to Meet You

Michael 8 Comments

This weekend a seminarian came to our church to start his year long spiritual internship as it were. At the end of the mass he stood on the altar and after introducing himself he said, “I’ll be at the back of the church and would like to meet all of you personally . I won’t remember all of your names but over the next year, I’ll try.” If it had been me saying that I would have made it “I won’t remember any of your names but over the next year I’ll forgot the couple that I accidentally had remembered. And it will probably at the absolute worst time.”

You see, of all the billions of data that I’ve committed to memory over all the years that I’ve been exposed to data, I can remember almost all of it, from every important work piece to the most useless of useless trivia. Except names. I tried all of the memory tricks. Use somebody’s name three times in the first 10 minutes of being introduced. Associate the name with some physical characteristic. Build a mnemonic that describes where and Forgotwhen you met that person. None of it worked. I even tried doing what I did to remember the billions of data that I did remember and is rolling around in my head. I just remembered. But it seems I’ve never been good with names. Why, it took me almost 4 years to learn my own mother’s name. And that’s most surprising since almost everybody’s mother’s name back then was Mommy.

So how did I manage to go through life with such a disconnect from the most personal of other people’s personal information? I guess I always had cheat sheets around. While in the army, everybody wore their name above their right pocket. As long as I didn’t mind to appear to be somewhat not all quite focused I could pass my eyes over their collar looking for rank, down to their pocket for surname and in one almost smooth motion would greet Captain Hook. In the hospitals and other medical facilities everyone wears name badges. Except for the few who inexplicably wore their identification cards on the hems of their shirts or jackets it was easy enough to spot the picture card and zero in on the name. At the college the entire clinical faculty was into wearing white jackets with their names stitched above the breast pocket. Except me. I didn’t care much for wearing consultation jackets while standing at the front of a lecture hall. It struck me as the same useless gesture as those who wear scrubs in a hospital yet never move from their desks in the administration wing except to go home.

When I didn’t have a visual cue to jolt me into name recognition I relied on the old standby. Everybody became “sir” or “ma’am.” Actually, that worked out quite well in my career ladder climb. People to whom I reported liked that I call to them with such politeness while everyone else junior to them tried to feign familiarity by beginning each conversation with “Well Bob,” or “If you have a minute Sue.” As I rose to have more who reported to me I continued with “sir” and “ma’am” and endeared my staff to me with my gentility while other department heads routinely referred to their crew as “the minions of 4 Central” or some similar certainly meant to be cute appellation.

So, my advice to you if you should ever become a seminarian assigned to your pastoral learning experience and don’t think you can remember everybody’s name before your year is up, do what I did. Don’t try. Make them all sirs and ma’ams. They’ll appreciate the courtesy. Or, you can just think of them all as useless trivia and you can probably commit a few billion names to memory. Just don’t let the pastor find out.

 

What’s In a Name?

Michael 2 Comments

I once read that the two most common ways a person will select an alias are turning his first name into a last name while picking a very common first name (thus John Doe becomes Bob Johns) or picking a famous person’s name then shrugging off the similarity (“Well, this is the first time we’ve had Johnny Carson stay with us,” is replied to with HMNI2“Yeah, I get that a lot.”). The problem with these is that they don’t work well for women. While Peter can become Peters and Jeffrey turns into Jeffries, what’s Melissa supposed to become or who would believe Mary Catherine unless she was wearing a habit. Why I was researching aliases is the topic for a different post.

Well, have no fear. I have the perfect manner for a person of the female persuasion to disappear into the ephemera as easily as her male counterpoint. You probably have seen this since it has been floating about the Internet in one form or another since at least 2011. Everyone has six names. Those are:

  1. Your real name
  2. Your soap opera name: Your middle name + the street you live on
  3. Your Star Trek name: First three letter of your last name + first two of your middle name+ last 2 of your first name
  4. Your superhero name: The color of your shirt + the item to your right (or left if you prefer)
  5. Goth name: “Black” + the name of one of your pets
  6. Rapper name: “Lil” + the last thing you ate

Thus George Bush (one of my favorite aliases (aliai?) becomes:

Herbert Bizzell (of course I meant Daddy Bush (really),
Bushege,
Gold Shredder,
Black Millie (we may have to work on that one), or
Lil Peanut Butter depending on the  particular alias requiring circumstance

So you see, this is not only a terrific party game but also an amazing alias break for all opportunities. Going to a night club and don’t want your significant other to find out. Have no fear Melissa Elizabeth Mainlady of 123 Elm Street, Elizabeth Elms will be your wing woman. Gong to Comic con and prefer your law office buddies don’t find out. Maielmel will cover the registration fee. Yes, the possibilities may not be endless but they should cover almost any possible alias requirement.

So now, speaking of researching aliases…oh yes, that’s a topic for another post.

That’s what I think. Really. How ’bout you?