Monkeys at the keys

Having missed the bulk of the Superbowl, I learned of Gatorade's unfortunate name change via http://www.runnersworld.com/. Was Gatorade too long a word for the general public? Does the Gatorade company suffer from a inferiority complex and think that they are still a small, obscure little start-up? I just can't see the day that I'll start saying, "Did you bring the G?" G is not a name--it's a letter. For the last few days I've been changing student records in our database--not to wreak havoc, but because student's homerooms often change at the beginning of a semester. I've come across the strangest names. Some were just spelled a little irregularly (thus condemning a kid for a life of No, no, it's "Kristen" with three n's.), more were just unfortunate choices (who could have predicted that Britney Spears would have such an effect on the class roster), and others were just completely inexplicable. A sampling of examples:

CURTISS (Why the two S's?)
LA-A (Pronounced Ladasha. Seriously.)

OARY (What?)

T'LEAH ("Leah" is a good enough name on its own--no 'T' necessary.)

SARAIAH (This may be a case of just not knowing how it's to be spelled.)

GIVEN (As in--what's your given name?)

HEAVENLEAH ("Heavenly"--lots of pressure, kind of like "Charity.")

FRANZISKA (Unneccessary tampering)

Two names took me straight back to elementary school:
~LATISHA - The only girl (or boy, actually) with whom I've ever gotten into a physical fight. Well, with the notable exception of the many fisticuffs that Chandra and I engaged in growing up. We only had one rule--if you hit or kicked the other participant in the head, the fight immediately ceased and you had to apologize. The head was out of bounds. Nails, kicking and pinching were all smart and legal methods of inflicting pain. Anyhow, Latisha--a somewhat scary fourth grader--had insulted my best friend by calling her a wimp. I, the scrappy (but puny) third grader, decided that I had to defend Perri's honor. It was a pretty fun fight actually. Adrenaline rocks.

~MARQUIS - A boy who plagued me by calling me "Rahni Rhinoceros" all through fifth and sixth grades. Mrs. Hershberger had asked us to pick an animal that started with the first letter of our own first names so that she could try and remember 32 new names faster. I considered my options (rabbit, raccoon, etc.) and honestly, "rhinoceros" never even occurred to me. I didn't figure it out until later that BOYS ARE MEAN WHEN THEY LIKE YOU. Well, in grade school that is. Don't fall for mean boys when you're older, girls! A rather innocuous classroom activity turned bad.

I do realize that my own name could be added to this list of oddities if one thinks that "Ronnie" is the one true spelling. And I used to wish for a plainer first name, actually. "Sarah" was mi nombre of choice (Chandra wanted her name to be "Jenny". Jenny, it was fate that we were meant to be randomly-selected college roommates!) Whenever a substitute teacher read the attendance sheet, I immediately piped up, "Here!" when I spotted the familiar furrowed brow and long pause--dead giveaways that she had reached the J's. Now, however, I am quite content with my tricky name. I like it so much that I don't want people butchering it, so I give them the following tip as to how it's spelled, "Rah! Rah! Rahni!" Often they think I'm cheering for myself, but I'm just trying to make sure they're spelling it right in their minds. Spelling MATTERS. Even when you can't see it.

I'M NO RONNIE. Or Ron. Or Rhonda. It's not short for Veronica. Or anything else, for that matter.

Rah, rah, rah--three cheers, Mom and Dad!

P.S. For more excellent thoughts on names, do check out the book pictured above