What we didn’t think was “avoid anything that has ever been or ever will be chosen as the name for a force of destruction.”  Good news, we didn’t name her Katrina, but we easily could have.  (Kinda snappy…”Katrina Kelley, Queen of the Wild Fronter”)

I mean, how much would that suck?  The conversation about your kid’s name goes from something like “well, it’s a Gaelic derivative meaning fight-filled or brave” to “it means overwhelming destruction and despair followed by government neglect and national disgrace.” Yes, we do love you dear.

I have to admit, when hurricane season came last year, I anxious watched to see what names National Weather Service was going to put up in this macabre Russian Roulette.   What if her name does get chosen?  Maybe it’ll just be a tropical depression.   Maybe it’ll just hit Galveston (doesn’t everything?).  Or maybe we’ll hit the jackpot and our daughter will thereafter share a moniker with a harbinger of doom.

Anyway, this shouldn’t be.  The National Weather Service should show some more responsibility when picking the names of hurricanes.  First, publish the list ahead of time–oh wait, they have (Thanks for the tip, NewYorkology!)

Better yet, go statistical on that naming:

1. Create a database from the US Census of all American first names (starting in 1820)
2. Devise an algorithm that identify unused but memorable names, like so:

• Names that were very popular before between 1800 and 1850, but nonexistent today
• Names that were very popular between 1850 and 1900, but are nonexistent today
• Names that were very popular between 1900 and 1950 but are nonexistent today.
• Names of the mothers of the past 5 heads of the Weather Service

Slice it up any way you want it: you’ll now have a pretty good list of flat-out scary names.  Imagine:

1. Hurricane Bathsheba
2. Hurricane Drusilla
3. Hurricane Ebenezer
4. Hurricane Fern
5. Hurricane Gomer
6. Hurricane Gertrude
7. Hurricane Hecate
8. Hurricane Petunia