What’s in a name? A lot. In fact, I happen to think that a person’s fate..their destiny..is directly influenced by the name that’s attached to them as they go through life.

Would Obama be in the Oval Office right now if his name was:

Percy Obama

 I think not.

So now that’s it’s on….it’s time to offer a few ideas for the IPs to consider. I’ll toss out some possible handles, and then theorize how their life may unfold:

Name: Vincent (Vinny) Maximus  


Childhood Highlights:
Learned to walk at 6 months. Learned to count to 21 at 9 months. Neighborhood candy dealer at age 7.  Learned to play violin, age 10. Began using empty violin case to smuggle stolen Playboys into school, age 10, 1 month. 

What he wants to be when he grows up — age 10:
Professional gambler/ astronaut.

Favorite Sport Growing Up: 7 card stud.  Baseball, but only hitting.

Possible Cruel Nicknames He’ll Endure In School — Skinny Vinny. Candyman. Batman.

Exerpt from High School Yearbook:
“Loved hanging with you in Mr. Allen’s class. Hey — I’ll pay you back that loan just as fast as I can. Just please don’t use your baseball bat on me again. Your best friend forever, Steve”

Over/under on number of fights before 7th grade:

Favorite TV Show Growing Up:
Sopranos reruns. Cops. Celebrity Poker, 24 hour Horse Racing Channel.

Academic Career:
Middling student except for math where he excelled. Upon graduation, promptly enrolled at the University of Nevada, Las Vegas. Internships in Atlantic City, Monte Carlo and at the Bada Bing.

Eventual Occupation: Sr. VP of Exotic Investment Instruments, AIG


It’s the first decision every parent has to make. What’s the baby’s name?

This new blog is my baby. So I have to name it. And, appropriately enough, this blog is ABOUT a baby. Or two. That’s coming in the future.

More about that later. And more about the purpose, scope and goals of this blog.

For now, it just needs a name. A handle. So I put my big 50,000 megawatt marketing brain on high power thinking and pondered.

Here’s my short list:

BabyGarage. My early favorite. Said it all with one camelbacked word. Different. But: Blog Heroine, better known as my wife Michelle, the surrogate-to-be shook her head: no.

Her bun. My oven. Same reaction, although head shake was a little more bewildered. I like it; I’ll use it somewhere else.

BabyMaker. Ugh. Sounds like a porno, or the life and times of an ex-NBA star.

Like an organ transplant. A whole bunch of them. All in one little bundle. Except that you’re not dead. Plus, you get to spread a little joy. Wordy, but descriptive. But can I get the .com of that name? Doubt it.

Baby Bump. Huh? OK, I was getting desperate.

Baby Farmer. Why do I imagine little baby heads popping up out of the soil? No.

BabyHarvest. Even creepier.

Baby Momma. Oh. Taken.

Octomom minus 7 brats. Really desperate now.

GuestWomb. Yes. Short and catchy. Perfect description of what’s going on. And now the real litmus test. I read it to Michelle.

Blog heroine chuckled; I took that for a big thumbs up.

GuestWomb it is.