Do Not Read This Blog if Your Name is Dave...Or Mulva

I didn't want to write this blog.

Not this blog in general. I very much enjoy discussing every day existentialism as it relates to moose rides, vomit, and feline AIDs. (If you don't read the blog regularly, it is probably best for your sanity that you ignore the previous sentence).

I didn't want to write a blog about the subject I am about to discuss. You see, on my way from Idaho to Salt Lake City, I stopped off in a quaint little town called Logan, Utah.

The town is called Logan. My name is Logan. Hilarity ensues.

I find the subject to be beneath me (an impressive accomplishment given my usual lack of discretion), but everyone I talk to seems to find this interesting. Of course they do. They're my friends and family.

But you don't care that I happen to go by the same moniker as a small town in Utah. And you'd be even less likely to enjoy a blog full of pictures with me smiling and pointing at signs that say "Logan Landfill," "Logan High," and "Now Entering Logan."

You don't care that I also share my name with an airport in Boston, an X-Men character, and a 1976 movie called Logan's Run with a plot that gets considerably less amusing every year I move closer to thirty.

But the second you find yourself in a town that shares your name, or the name of somebody close to you, it becomes intriguing. If your best friend is named Norman, and you're in Norman, Oklahoma, you call him on his cell phone. If your name (or stage name) happens to be Cheyenne, all of a sudden Wyoming is a little more interesting. If your girlfriend goes by the name of Intercourse, you head to Pennsylvania and marry that girl.

The point is, we find names amusing. In reality, names can affect the way the world views us. Everybody remembers the kid with the unfortunate name growing up. I went to school with a kid named Chase Dix. Seriously, that was (and is...sorry Chase) his name. Turns out his parents never got the memo that if your last name conjures images of a phallus, it's generally a good idea to stay away from verbs for a first name.

Really, shouldn't the idea when naming your child be to avoid anything that can be misconstrued by his or her classmates growing up? You know, like avoiding names that rhyme with unfortunate body parts. The Seinfeld episode about a woman named Mulva comes to mind here.

Of course, there are other trends of thought. Penn Jillette, after being skewered by the press for naming his daughter Moxie CrimeFighter Jillette, an act some even equated to child abuse, responded online with a rant which included "Child abuse is naming your kid Dave...You're saying I want someone to yell his name in a room of fifty people and have six people answer 'Are you talking to me?'...A child is by definition unique. Why would you give him the name Dave?"

One problem with this line of thought (other than that it tends to piss off guys named Dave) is that sometimes unique names become less unique as time goes on. I get the feeling Barack and Obama will be much more common names for college-aged kids in 2027 than they were in 2007. Although Obama's middle name, Hussein, is still probably as safe a bet for uniqueness in America as Osama, Adolf, and Enis.

It should be noted that there's no historical villain named Enis, but had there been, I'm sure his destruction would have stemmed from many a hurtful limerick.

When those Baracks and Obamas get enough money to travel, a lot of them are going to visit the town of Obama, Japan, and take goofy pictures next to the street signs and post them to their blogs, which incidentally by the year 2027 will incorporate the sensations of taste and smell, an innovation that will finally put an end to the once booming internet porn industry.

Until then, enjoy this taste and smell free picture of my favorite advertisement.