Cape Argus

Names go in generation­s, but… Jackson?

- By David Biggs

WHENEVER I attend a gathering that includes men of about my own vintage, I am sure to be surrounded by Davids. At a wine club to which I belong, there are at least six members called David. That’s about 20% of the membership. This is useful because at my age I am very bad about rememberin­g names, so I just call everybody David and I’m usually right.

I attended a dinner party recently where three out of the four male guests were called David. I forget what the fourth chap was called, probably Anthony or something.

The interestin­g thing about this is that there seem to be few Davids among the new generation of children. Several of my friends have grandchild­ren and I am intrigued by their names. Most of them are called by names I don’t think existed when I was a kid. I am told the most popular boy’s name in the world last year was Jackson.

Jackson? What kind of name is that? I thought Jackson was a surname. It was followed in popularity by Liam, Lucas and Noah, Jason, Aiden and Ethan.

Where are the solid old-fashioned names like John, Michael, Peter, Richard, Robert or James? Where are the Davids? It’s just as strange among the girls. There are no Marys, Helens, Elizabeths, Susans, Janes or Anns among the current playground batch. Top of the popularity list last year were Ava, Mia, Riley, Aria and Layla. Lovely names, I have to admit…

I suppose names go in generation­s. My parents and grandparen­ts’ generation had names that sound rather quaint and old-fashioned today – Winnifred, Clement, Agnes, Clarice, Godfrey, Ebenezer, Edgar and Gertrude.

Who knows what interestin­g new names future generation­s will have? My guess is there will be names we haven’t even thought of, especially as the difference­s between the sexes are being increasing­ly blurred (many schools in the US now have to provide “gender neutral” toilets in school grounds).

I imagine playground­s in the year 2050 will resound with names like Zimble, Yoota, Mistoo, Ixel and Timpet.

No, I suppose not. I don’t think there will be any names resounding in playground­s. I suspect future generation­s of children will sit in silent rows wearing earphones and virtual reality helmets and all their lives will be taking place inside their heads. It will not matter to them what the name of the child under the next helmet is. Each will be far away in a separate virtual world.

It’s a frightenin­g possibilit­y.

Last Laugh

Fred was in a houseware shop buying crockery when his friend Jim came strolling in and looked at the dishes he was buying.

“Gosh Fred, that’s a pretty expensive dinner service you’ve just bought,” he said. “Wow! Each plate is marked R500. Are you having a grand dinner party or what?”

“No, they’re for everyday use,” said Fred. “I just want to be sure my wife never trusts me to do the washing up.”

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