My Maverick is still “in production,” but I’m making lists of names for it. I have made a tradition of naming all the vehicles I’ve owned, right down to mopeds, bikes, and a skateboard. The name of my first car is so long that I will have to tell it to y’all in a post of its own sometime. I’m sure I named my trike when I was wee mite, too. You might be wondering how I go about coming up with the name of a vehicle, especially when I haven’t actually seen it in person. Well, I begin with bigliest o’ names. Of course, the first names any right-thinking ‘Merican has to consider when naming a vehicle are “Elvis” and/or “Marilyn.” I doubt I have to explain this to my fellow ‘Mericans. Neither of these names seems right for the vehicle to me, so I can cross those names off my list—although I must admit “Marilyn Maverick” sounds as voluptuous and spunky as she was. However, I’ll leave that name for some other Maverick owner to use.
I then wrote down some relatively obvious names, like “Dallas.” “Dallas Maverick.” That name might be okay if I were a Dallas Maverick’s fan, but I am not one, nor have I ever been one. I considered some names using horse-related words, like “Colt.” “Colt Maverick.” Nah. Then I thought about naming the truck “Maverik”—like the convenience store spells it, without the “c.” Its name would then be “Maverik Maverick.” I told Suzanne that the name would be memorable and clever, but it would also be—and these are my exact words—”think-y and spell-y.” And since few people like to think or spell, I will nix this name from my list. Maybe I should name it “Bret,” after Jame’s Garner’s character from the television show, MAVERICK: “Bret Maverick.” Nope. “Bret” doesn’t vibe like a fitting name for any vehicle I can think of. Also, in sticking with a Western theme, I wrote down “Festus” from GUNSMOKE as a possibility. “Festus Ford Maverick.” See how choosing the name “Festus” begged for adding “Ford” as a middle name? It almost sounds regal. It does give the name a groovy, near-universal cultural reference, but it strikes me as yet another not-quite-right name.
I then thought of naming the truck “Motley” (“Motley Maverick”), but people would think of Motley Crue, and I do not dig that band a jot or a tittle. I thought of naming it something like “Tie” or “Bow Tie”, but as much as those words are dear to me, neither of those names shines as a truck moniker. As I pondered the truck name and how long it might be for the truck to get here, I started to think my bro-in-law, Kent, is right: the truck doesn’t exist and never has. Its existence is a myth. Hey! I’ve always liked the word “myth.” Let’s see: “Myth Maverick.” Try saying that, three times quickly. It sounds like a beauty pageant announcer with a lisp, introducing a contestant. No, to that as a name.
When I consulted the Periodic Table of the Chemical Elements to discover a good name, I turned up the metal element molybdenum (Mo). “Molybdenum.” “Molybdenum Maverick.” I’m all for some good alliteration, and I’m also certain that no other truck in the country—probably on the planet—will ever have the same name. For some inchoate reason, I’m keeping this name in contention. But as of now, I am not as excited about it as I should be when I find THE perfect name. My list of names is almost as long as Santa Claus’ X-mas list, so I’m not worried about finding one. As always, I will keep you posted about the Maverick and its forever name, as well as its christening.
FYI I attached my goldfish earrings to my t-shirt magnet to wear as a fishy Bow Tie o’ the Day. My ears were hurting and I was out of the house, and the magnet was handy. This is very practical, which is so unlike me.
