The name Colin is fairly popular in the United States today. It wasn't so when I was a child, in the 1960s. I was teased at school, called Colleen, called a girl. On those rotating drugstore racks selling bicycle license plates for kids, there was never a Colin.
None of this bothered me much, but I did grow up thinking my name was rare, so that, even now, I notice the name when it pops up. Recently in San Francisco I was a little pleased to find there's a street there with my name on it--Colin Place. It's only an alley, and one with no public access at that. But it's got my name on it.
[Update: Strangely, two days later I walked into a wine shop in San Francisco and the first thing I saw, literally, was a bottle of Champagne with my name on it--a producer I had never heard of before.]
Showing posts with label Colin. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Colin. Show all posts
Monday, May 28, 2018
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Miscellaneous: Baby Names
![]() |
| Image by © Royalty-Fr |
The people who keep track of these things today announced the most popular baby names of 2010--although it seems premature; we still have 29 days to go. I was surprised to see Aiden, a rather British-sounding name at the top of the list of boys' names (is this the Harry Potter effect?)--but I must be out of touch; apparently Aiden has been the leader for six years now. Colin, another rather British-sounding name, came in at 58. Sophia is apparently the most popular moniker to tag a baby girl with, followed by Isabella and Olivia--all rather girly names. I was surprised to see Brooklyn at number 38. Brooklyn? I thought only blues musicians were named after places (although usually states and big Southern cities). Cadence (at no. 70) and Kennedy (at 74) seem odd choices for a girl as well.
Brooklyn seems to have some sort of international appeal, though, along with Cincinnati--but in this case, not as names. I spent the summer of 2010 in Europe, mostly in southern France. I was surprised to see many T-shirts there with references to Brooklyn and Cincinnati on them. Alas for the Cincinnati boosters, it was always spelled "Cincinati." Why? I have no idea, but there's a story in there somewhere. Is it a coincidence that Cincinnati has its own John Roebling-designed bridge that looks very much like the Brooklyn Bridge?
I was reminded of the antique bronze globe that to this day stands on the grounds of Narita-san, the vast temple complex in Narita, the town that hosts Japan's largest international airport. Important world cities are marked on the globe, including Cincinnati, attesting to that city's stature at the time the globe was made. Unfortunately (again) the name is cast incorrectly as the equivalent of "Cincinna City" (in Japanese, シンシナ市). "Shi," as the final "ti" of Cincinnati is pronounced in Japanese, just happens to mean "city" in that language, so the globe makers assumed the place was called "Cincinna" with "City" on the end, as in Oklahoma City. Oh well, I hear Cincinnati's a fine place to live these days.
Monday, March 1, 2010
Miscellaneous: Colin
There are too many people named Colin in the US these days. When I was a child, Colin was an unusual name here. I was teased. Kids called me a girl, saying my name was "Colleen." They had never heard the name Colin.
In my birth year of 1960, only 7% of names given to boys in the US were more uncommon, according to a Facebook application that rates your parents on the originality of the name they gave you; mine got an A+. Getting teased was the downside--and there was never a "Colin" on the racks of those little license plates for bicycles with first names on them. The upside was that when I heard or saw the name Colin, it almost always belonged to me. Now, men and boys named Colin pop up all over the place--which can be confusing.
In my birth year of 1960, only 7% of names given to boys in the US were more uncommon, according to a Facebook application that rates your parents on the originality of the name they gave you; mine got an A+. Getting teased was the downside--and there was never a "Colin" on the racks of those little license plates for bicycles with first names on them. The upside was that when I heard or saw the name Colin, it almost always belonged to me. Now, men and boys named Colin pop up all over the place--which can be confusing.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)


