This Is This

I was in a souvenir shop where they had those touristy New York licence plates with people’s names on. I looked for those of my kids but they only had Daughter’s so I didn’t get any.

When I was a kid, people would always find their names, because in southeast Pennsylvania in the late 1970’s, most boys were called Nick, Mikey, Chad, Paul, Kevin, Joe or Chris. You had a couple of Marshals, a smattering of Ralphs, a Lenny, a Lester - even a Joachim - but mostly, boys had one of a half dozen names. Girls were mostly Heather, Rebecca, Rachel, Jen, Janine, Alice, Steph and Kimberly.

Now you’re got Casper, Yolanda, Shaniqua, Molisha, Moleesha, Kai, Pixar, Geraldo, Raoul - everything.

Yes, I know it’s a testament to our multicultural society, but when I was growing up, everyone had pretty similar names - and that went for black kids, white kids, hispanics, asians, everyone.

Now the licence plate tourist snaggers have no chance. Especially when parents are naming their children things like Madison, Brooklyn or Chelsea. Parents of these kids don’t actually need to look for personalised goodies on racks of names, because they can just steal real traffic signs.

That’s why I’m calling my next kids Tribeca and Upper West Side.

Tomorrow: Pranks which never happened

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