What's in a Name?

Does your car have a name?

Just about eight years ago, I wrote about how we name things. Primarily homes and vehicles. I gave my first car (an '87 Acura Legend) the name Papa Smurf, but after getting married and starting a family, I was too busy naming pets and children to think about christening my transport. I even lamented the lack of monikers given to my cars in that post.

Mourn no more. If I was bummed that my transportation was nothing more than metal on wheels with no official title beyond make and model, then it was up to me to remedy that situation. Since writing the post about naming things, I set out to do just that once again.

First was a forest green Ford Explorer that wasn't in the best condition. That was "The Hooptie-Mobile." Then came a red Grand Am named "Rebel Red." After Rebel Red's engine imploded, I acquired an old silver Lexus that had some quirks. Some windows wouldn't roll down - one was bondo'd shut. The paint was peeling. The windshield wipers were slightly too big for the windshield, and the wipers only had one speed: frantic. It had something that looked like a bullet hole in the back bumper. And it did not like freeways - shuddering once it reached 50 MPH. But it worked. For a little more than a year, it got me to work, church, and the kids' schools. Thanks to some battery issues when I first got the car, I gave it the name "Ghost." It refused to turn over one morning but started up without qualms later that night. It was as if it knew I was going to have a gooey for lunch that day and insisted I walk to work to burn off the extra calories. Either that or a specter of some sort possessed it for a day, so it became the Ghost.

There is now a new car in my life. And it needs a name. Because of who I am, it deserves a truly geeky alias. Sven? Mjolnir? I don't know yet, but I am open to suggestions.

PS: It's a Honda. And the kids love it.