This morning I was supposed to meet an acquaintance for a walk along the green belt. I don’t know this woman well, except to know her children have names reminiscent of where they might have been conceived. Ya know- River, Aspen, Denver . As the morning dawned, I noticed a bit of pleurisy taking hold in my lungs, and my back hurt. I was going to have to cancel our outing. Normal-name Jane’s daughter and my daughter go to school together. I started hunting through the school directory for her phone number. Aspen… Aspen, let’s see where was she? Dylan, Kale, Sage (hey, we could almost make a salad!) Riley, Chase. I was reading through the kindergarten names when I stumbled upon one I had never heard before. Cashlee. Cashlee. Huh, is that like Ashley, but with more bling? Is that to today what Tiffany was to the 1980’s? Was this name an invention of Cashlee’s creative parents, or did some crazy baby name book lend it credence as a power name for the class of 2025? And why didn’t someone tell these parents lay off the cutesy sauce and realize that today’s Britney used to sound perky, too. I also saw a “Lacey”. That name not only conjures up poor Lacey Peterson, but it also brings to mind shiny brass poles. There were plenty of good names in the school directory. I spied a Sophia, a Rose, and a Bella. Never mind these girls probably won't hang sheets from a window next to the Pont Vechio. At least the names don't scream "HOOKER". In twenty years, I have a sinking feeling Maggie and Nora will want to bring a Kerrick or a Reagan home from college, and the shock will be on me when a male shows up on the doorstep. There is a baby name book out called “Beyond Jennifer and Jason”. What’s wrong with Jennifer and Jason? At least we knew the sex of the person. Pay no attention that my name is Toni. Really. Seriously. Did I even bring this up?
At right, you’ll see my name favorites, and some serious offenders.
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