Naming the first Little Man

I thought it was going to be really weird when Baby Axel was born. We called him Baby Axel for about eight months. Not only did WE call him Baby Axel, but EVERYONE WE KNEW called him Baby Axel.

It would have been so much easier if the Detroit Pistons had repeated as NBA Champions in 2005. Early in the season, I asked Dede the following: "If the Pistons repeat this year, can we name our first-born child Rasheed?"

"Definitely," she said (and in my brain I read that as text so that all emotion and inflection was taken out of the spoken word).

Now, the Pistons came prettydarnclose and it is kind of ironic that a bonehead Rasheed Wallace play kept that from happening.

A year later, Dede is pregnant and we have no name. Thanks a lot, Rasheed.

I used to have a saying when I wanted to introduce Dede to a name that she might not immediately realize as having as much potential as it does:

"Now, roll with me on this one, My Heart," I'd say. "Don't just dismiss this on the surface and let it simmer a bit."

Axel? Jamarcus? Roddick?

This is my recommendation to anyone out there naming a child. Do not discuss it with anyone. This is especially true if you have a lot of friends who are teachers.

There are many names that will make a teacher cringe just because of some student they had in class in the past. A perfectly normal name can become as harsh-sounding as Adolf, just because of someone who sat in a desk in front of them for nine months. You don't want one teacher reminding the baby-naming teacher of a kid they might have had in class as well.

I'm not joking when I say I would have named him Axel. Think about it. Let's assume the kid grows up to be a pretty cool teenager. (And honestly, our kids will.) If he is already pretty cool, a name like Axel only enhances that image. Strong? Check. Masculine? Check. Exotic? Check. Rock Star?

Check.

Dede arrived at the hospital with three names in mind. I arrived with four. We knew his middle name was going to be Arthur to honor my grandfather.

The finalists: Benjamin (Benji), Toby and Gavin.

We ultimately opted for Gavin because we thought it was the most unique. One of our nurses called it "very dignified for such a young man." It turned out to not be as unique as we thought. There seem to be a thousand Gavins in his age group and that is fine because it passed my test.

Gavin Arthur Rush

Strong? Check. Masculine? Check. Exotic? Check, at the time. Rock star?

Check.