The name of the rose

Let’s face it. Since the first moment parents realize exactly that they are going to be parents, they start thinking about your name. Maybe since before, like in my case, I already know what kind of names I would like for my offspring. A name like mine: a name that means something.

I've always wondered about names and their power, probably because I've been a victim of fate with my own name: Sherezade (Yes, there's like a hundred different ways to write it, but my parents wanted me to have it more easy). Yes, I believe names hold an amount of power that makes you this way or other...or rather that inclines in a direction. In my line of thought, that's why to name a product there's so much work behind the choice. My psychology teacher in high school once told us that Kodak was name that way because the letters the word holds can be pronounce exactly the same in every language. He might have been wrong, but I liked the idea. Sort of a tribute to the B.B. society (Before Babel...hm, no, not the movie...I know Brad Pitt is cute and all, but I'm talking about the myth, the legend, the biblical story).

Those who know me might recall a story I always tell. When I was a little girl I used to go to my mom and tell her that I wanted to change my name, to me it wasn’t a grown ups name. I hated it, it was so different from every one else's, you can imagine what that means that to a kid. I told my mom I wanted to be called Estrella (star) or Escarcha (glitter). God, I'm so thankful now she didn't listen. I grew to like it, because it marks a difference. Let me put is this way: you can know many Johns, many Carolinas, many Jordis...but, exactly how many Sherezades you know? People who haven’t heard of it, have such a hard time learning it, they don’t forget it. And people who do try to find out if I'm a story teller. Teachers always remembered it, to my luck I wasn't a bad student. (If you are reading this, and you don't know about it...Google it)

Knowing now that your name can mean so many things, I stop and wonder how far it can get. Not long ago, I went to Mac Donald’s against my better judgement. After standing in line for a while I finally get the chance to make my order, and what do I find? The smiling guy who is going to place my order, in his yellow t-shirt and red cap, is called Ronald. I stayed staring for 2 minutes, smiling, in shock and awe. He might have 3 last names of grandeur, but to me he will always be Ronald Mac Donald.

So in the possibilities of names, I ask you to wonder about. Umberto Eco in his book this entry is called in honour to explains that what's left of the rose is only the name. If what is left of you is only your name, what would your name mean?

To be the first who throws the rock, I'll do the exercise quoting a song from Oasis:

" As we beg and steal and borrow
Life is hit and miss and this
I Hope, I Think, I Know
If I ever hear the names, you call
And if I stumble catch me when I fall
Cos baby after all
You'll never forget my name".

Your turn!