WHAT'S IN A NAME?

What’s in a Name?

There once was a family named Schmidt who lived in New Jersey. One snowy day the Schmidt’s elder son, whose name was John Jacob Fledermaus Rosengarten Bachundheimer, was driving his Volkswagen van across the Bayonne Bridge when he swerved to avoid hitting a pariah mongrel that had wandered onto the roadway. His car slewed through the guard rail and plunged into the Kill Van Kull.

John Jacob Fledermaus Rosengarten Bachundheimer’s younger brother, named Ed, who had been two cars behind and who had not skidded, immediately reached for his cellphone and dialed home. The Schmidt father, who was hard of hearing and who used a cheap, recycled cellphone whose battery was low, answered.

“Pop, this is Ed,” Ed said. “John Jacob Fledermaus Rosengarten Bachundheimer just fell in the river.”

“Nell who?” Pop said, because he was hard of hearing and also easily confused.

“John Jacob Fledermaus Rosengarten Bachundheimer,” Ed said.

“So why are you calling, John Jacob Fledermaus Rosengarten Bachundheimer?”

“No,” Ed said. “This is not John Jacob Fledermaus Rosengarten Bachundheimer. This is Ed, the younger brother of John Jacob Fledermaus Rosengarten Bachundheimer who fell in the river. His van is bobbing up and down like a cork, and John Jacob Fledermaus Rosengarten Bachundheimer is hanging onto the roof rack. He needs help.”

“John Jacob Fledermaus Rosengarten Bachundheimer needs kelp? What is[JM1] [JM2]  John Jacob Fledermaus Rosengarten Bachundheimer going to do with kelp?”

“Never mind, Pop. John Jacob Fledermaus Rosengarten Bachundheimer Schmidt is heading out to sea.”

Pop banged his cellphone on the kitchen counter until its glass shattered. “Damn kids,” he said. “Always trying to complicate matters.”

Lesson: If you really want to spread confusion, go into Starbucks and order a tall vente in a grande cup.

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 [JM1]

 [JM2]