Throughout the ages, people have used words to capture the essence of their environment. From the ancient Egyptians invoking the stars in the night sky to the Greeks naming the various gods and goddesses of their pantheon, names have been used to capture our world's mysterious and awe-inspiring beauty.

We name the streets beneath our feet, the rushing rivers gushing by, and the mountains that tower over our dreams. We describe the machines we master, the tools we employ, and the medicines whose efficacy we bicker over. 

Words communicate our ideas, values, and emotions. We use them to name and describe places, technological crutches, and the people participating in the human experience. In essence, we name everything.

And speaking of names…

A Brief Sojourn in the Key of Romeo & Juliet

“What's in a name,” Juliet swoons in her stirring soliloquy. She’s, of course, implying that a name is a mere label with no significance. Maybe it’s the pleasing poetics mixing with the moonlit balcony, but I’m inclined to agree with her.

On the other hand, she might be wrong. She is, after all, invoking Romeo’s name as the object of her longing as she simultaneously attempts to diminish the power of names. In truth, names do take on significant meanings and can reflect our deepest fears and most daring desires.

But the power of names remains subjective.

For example, a name may have familial, political, or religious connotations. It may also represent cultural heritage or be meaningful in a particular language. Therefore, though the question “what's in a name?” implies the insignificance of a name, names may have more significance than the soliloquy prescribes.

A Van Gogh Spinoff Example

Another example of the subjectivity of names would be Vincent Van Gogh. Nowadays, the name evokes notions of a misunderstood genius who mutilated his own ear. He was considered unpleasant and untalented in his own time but is known worldwide as one of art history’s most fascinating and innovative characters.

Time, place, and preference all influence our understanding of names.

Why Do People Name Inanimate Objects?

Perhaps we name inanimate objects to imbibe them with a sense of personality. After all, our possessions often provide more enticing connections than people. 

Or maybe naming inanimate objects is a way of expressing affection and reverence for lifeless things—enabling us to assert a sense of ownership and control while alleviating guilt over our frivolous idolatry.

When we name inanimate objects, we are essentially creating extensions of ourselves, which placates our desire to sprawl out and mark our territory. 

It makes me think of the barracks scene from Full Metal Jacket: “This is my rifle. There are many like it, but this one is mine.”

Naming is a bonding experience. And humans are fascinated with bondage.

Why Does Craigface Not Name Inanimate Objects?

I've never been one to name things. My cars, guitars, and genitals are humbly referred to as what they are. Of course, I experimented with naming my possessions when I was young, but the names never stuck. They always felt forced.

The closest I ever came was the name bestowed on our ‘85 Chevy Suburban, which was affectionately dubbed “the Beast.” I can’t take credit for this, though. It was a collective term of endearment.

It’s worth noting that I’m acquainted with many people who enjoy labeling the essence of their belongings. This is fine. Whatever feels right to you is precisely what you should do.

Unless what feels right to you is rotten. Then for the love of god, don’t do it!

Finding My Musical Soulmate: Martin D-15

All this talk of words and naming things has somehow led me to the subject of my beloved Martin D-15M, an all-mahogany dreadnought acoustic guitar. That solid mahogany workhorse has been my faithful traveling companion for so long that it’s hard to imagine life without it.

I vividly remember the day we met. It was a warm sunny day in April 2007. After years of coveting, I decided the time had come for me to procure a Martin acoustic guitar. I was pretty broke then, so I wasn’t in the market for anything decadent, vintage, or flashy: just something solid wood and full of good.

I purchased it at Tejon Street Music in downtown Colorado Springs. Upon entering the store, my gaze immediately panned left—and there it was.

Bells started sounding in my mind, alerting me that I had instantly found what I was looking for. I had never experienced love at first sight, but there it was, perched on that wall crowded with acoustic guitars.

With the assertiveness of a native New Yorker, I plucked it from its perch, strummed a few cowboy chords, and handed the cashier my credit card. 

Together we've been coast-to-coast, written hundreds of songs, and played hundreds of shows. That guitar is adorned in my blood, sweat, and tears. It bears the scars of my playing style, my bad habits, my over-enthusiasm, my work ethic, my carelessness, my tenderness, my passion…

My oh my.

Guitar with No Name

I never once considered naming my Martin D-15. No name could justifiably define it. I simply (and endearingly) refer to it as "my Martin" or “the D-15.” It needs no name to lend it credibility or validate my authority.

Anyone who plays it remarks on what a beautiful instrument it is, both in sound quality and playability. My Martin and I forged that sound, influencing each other’s voices through countless hours of mutual vibration. We’ve been through some shit together.

Naming an inanimate object is an attempt to define and distinguish something—to make it unique. My Martin doesn't need that. It’s perfect, flaws and all.

I like knowing it’s sitting and waiting for me to pick it up so we can continue our discoveries together. Even nameless, it has managed to give deeper meaning to my own name by urging me to better understand myself.

My Martin in Action: Performing “Enjoy the Ride” with Ryan Madora

Where Did We End Up On the Subject of Naming?

Absolutely nowhere. Writing is its own reward, and arrivals aren’t as profound as adventures. But let’s tie a bow around it anyway…

(Ahem)

Names describe our physical environment and define our social conventions. They’re essential to our understanding of the physical, emotional, and spiritual realms. 

But remember folks: names are a mere facsimile of reality. A shadow puppet glowing on our walls of perception. Close enough for horseshoes and hand grenades, as the saying goes.

In the words of the wisest guy I never met, “The name that can be spoken is not the eternal name.”

So name away, freaks, and enjoy yourselves. I’m off to play my Martin D-15.