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Fodder | Jun 25 2005

As of 8:18 this morning, I’ve received 62 submissions for my business naming contest. With due respect to the submitters, some of whom wrote from far off exotic lands like Holland and Seattle, the winning entry is not among them.

On the positive side, my mother was delighted to find herself mentioned in the contest rules. “It was so cool,” she wrote. “You rock!” (So far as I know, this was the first time my mother referred to anything as rocking.)

An odd side-effect of trying to name something, particularly when one is already dangerously obsessive, is that the brain locks in and everything becomes naming fodder. For example, in the last minute I reflexively considered the following names (this is for my business, mind you):

Actually, Cool Mother has its merits.

Okay, I checked: Cool Mother is taken.

This is becoming a problem.