What's in a name?

A rose by any other name would smell as sweet, and a bug by any other name would be as gross. And yet, when I saw the GIANT black spider in the garage, the first thing I did (after I got done screaming, jumping around, and trying not to hyperventilate) was give it a name. Nasty Ned. I feel like it is very fitting.

The very next day, by friend Cortney said that she and her husband had just purchased a family pet for their girls. They got a wonderfully cow-licked guinea pig. As she was describing his funny face and spiky hair, all I could think was “What’d you name him?” So I started to wonder, is it just me, or do all people have an obsession with naming things? Here’s what I came up with:

People name things to understand them. When we find a new species of plant, animal, even germ, we name it. Classify that guy before someone else does! Why though? Does it somehow change the fungus to be named? It doesn’t, except in our minds. As thinking creatures, we don’t like what we can’t understand. How do get to an understanding of something? We name it. You’re sick…what do you have? An infection. Yeah, but what do you have?

I think it’s the same basic instinct that drives us to name cars and toys and even body parts. My car is The Grey Glob. My dearest stuffed animal is Gilly. I haven’t named any body parts. The point is though, by personifying these objects, I come to understand them. It’s weird to talk to my car, but talking to The Grey Glob isn’t weird. Okay, as weird. When I name a stuffed animal, a whole personality and background form in my mind. Now they aren’t just objects…they have names!

I don’t think it’s just me being crazy. People are serious about names. They give identity, they give meaning, they make us who we are. A rose by any other name may smell as sweet, but it wouldn’t be a rose!

Here is a poem about names that I simply love!

The Naming Of Cats by T. S. Eliot

The Naming of Cats is a difficult matter,
It isn't just one of your holiday games;
You may think at first I'm as mad as a hatter
When I tell you, a cat must have THREE DIFFERENT NAMES.
First of all, there's the name that the family use daily,
Such as Peter, Augustus, Alonzo or James,
Such as Victor or Jonathan, George or Bill Bailey--
All of them sensible everyday names.
There are fancier names if you think they sound sweeter,
Some for the gentlemen, some for the dames:
Such as Plato, Admetus, Electra, Demeter--
But all of them sensible everyday names.
But I tell you, a cat needs a name that's particular,
A name that's peculiar, and more dignified,
Else how can he keep up his tail perpendicular,
Or spread out his whiskers, or cherish his pride?
Of names of this kind, I can give you a quorum,
Such as Munkustrap, Quaxo, or Coricopat,
Such as Bombalurina, or else Jellylorum-
Names that never belong to more than one cat.
But above and beyond there's still one name left over,
And that is the name that you never will guess;
The name that no human research can discover--
But THE CAT HIMSELF KNOWS, and will never confess.
When you notice a cat in profound meditation,
The reason, I tell you, is always the same:
His mind is engaged in a rapt contemplation
Of the thought, of the thought, of the thought of his name:
His ineffable effable
Effanineffable
Deep and inscrutable singular Name.