Your Name Here

I love this new picture from NASA of the surface of the planet Mercury.

Image of the Day from NASA
Image from NASA/Johns Hopkins University Applied Physics Laboratory/Carnegie Institution of Washington

This past March, the Messenger spacecraft (launched in 2004), achieved its goal of photographing 100% of Mercury’s surface. Since it is the closest planet to our Sun, I assumed Mercury’s surface was nothing but a molten mess of bubbling goo – not too inviting as a tourist destination. But now I can see that the surface is solid and it has craters. What’s even better, a naming convention has been established to pair Mercury’s pockmarks with dead writers, painters, musicians and other artists.

One of the most recent names approved for a surface feature on Mercury honors the Hawaiian slack-key guitarist Gabby Pahinui. Alvin Ailey, Bela Bartok, Glinka, Goethe, Goya, Grainger and Grieg are other names attached to similar Mercurian blemishes .

There are more standards when it comes to bestowing space names. On Venus, the International Astronomical Union names craters for women no longer on our planet, who, while they were here, made outstanding or fundamental contributions to their chosen field.

If you want to get your name on a crater of our very own Moon, you need to be an astronaut, cosmonaut, scientist or polar explorer. All dead, I’m afraid. It appears you can’t plant your name on a distant planet as a living person, which makes sense. Otherwise everything out there would already be tagged with the names of politicians and tycoons.

There are other guidelines for naming features on various bodies in outer space, though to qualify you would have to be, among other things, a mythological deity, a character from Shakespeare, or a coal field.

I’m guessing, were you able to take a survey of those who have received this unusual honor, only the astronauts, cosmonauts and some of the scientists might have taken a moment to consider that their life’s work would someday cause their name to be permanently attached to a crater. But I’m fairly certain it never crossed Vivaldi’s mind.

Walt Whitman, however, probably knew it was going to happen for him. And it did!

What in the world (or outer space) should be named after you?

51 thoughts on “Your Name Here”

  1. i think it would be, given the element of self induced insertion, the moment when an idea that has been shuffling around in the back of your mind comes to fruition. it forms into a not necessarily complete and polished finished product but has taken on a form that will be recognizable and will be the basis for working into a detailed ditty before the end of time. kind of the aha moment that happens when a realization of what a particular combination of actions with a particular combinations of elements can do.
    that or maybe the silence that occurs right after the last note of a strong musical passage. you know the one where there is no sound right after the sound was so big and robust just a second ago. when the absense of sound is not just there but as loud as the sound that was there just before it.
    like at 3:26 ad 3:37 here :

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    1. So that moment when an idea of the kind you described comes into being would be what you would like to have named after you, tim? Also, you might like to have the moment in a song that you described named after you?

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      1. yeah . we will say that was a tim.
        i had a tim this morning, did you hear that tim?
        kind of like when we used to jim here on the blog before word press made it impossible. i was guilty of jimming on a regular basis

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  2. Good morning. As some of you know, my last name is not easily pronounced or spelled and I think first names, alone, are not used when naming something after a person. I guess even a name like my last name could be used to name something. I described some new species of nematodes and named one of them after a famous nematologist, Gerald Thorne. I called that nematode Eudorylaimus thornei Another student, in the lab where i was working, could have named a nematode after me. He didn’t although he did name a new species of nematode after another person in the lab. That was okay.

    I don’t expect to do any more work on nematodes. There is a remote chance that some nematologist might name a nematode after me if they discover a new one among the group of nematodes I studied. I also like identifying plants and bugs. Perhaps, some day, I will find a new bug or plant and send it to a scientist who will name it after me. That would be okay if it happens.

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      1. In the scientific world i think you can’t name a new species that you have described after yourself. I don’t know if any one who has developed a new variety of plant has used their own name as the name of that new variety.

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        1. You were right the first time, Steve… one of my nicknames as a kid was Barbwire.

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    1. I really like that video, Holly. I’ve heard of flash mobs, but never seen one. It seems like a great idea.

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      1. I think our Lisa was in one – is that right, Lisa? At least she sent me the rehearsal schedule…

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  3. Rise and Shine Baboons!

    I think an alarm clock that yells “Rise and Shine” would be appropriate. Beyond that, not a clue.

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    1. I’m reminded of the commercial that runs these days, the one in which a dopey Vikings raider can’t find the snooze button on a crowing rooster. If they discover a new loud rooster, that could be named after you.

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  4. I can think of more things I’d not want to be named after. If someone names a nematode after me, I’d be inclined to resent it. And I’d rather not have a mud spring named after me, one of those gloopy muddy holes that sits there all day blowing methane bubbles.

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  5. Well, Steve, nematodes are just very small kinds of wild life. Certainly a wild life lover, like you, wouldn’t have a problem with having a tiny form of wild life named after you, right?

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      1. Usually you need a microscope to spot them. You could probably kill a large number of them by aiming your shotgun at the ground. The problem would come when you tried to collect the ones you kill. I believe that they are not protected and no one will prevent you from hunting them at any time. I personally believe that they really shouldn’t be hunted.

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  6. I’ve always loved the whole idea of naming colors. If I must, I should like to have an intelligent shade of blue named for me.

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    1. You are no doubt aware, as many costumers are, that there was once a very popular tannish color called “Dead Spaniard”?

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        1. well bother, a quick google shows that this is a color name from the Elizabethan era (why am I not sureprised, I’ll bet Elizabeth loved that), but will no one show me the actual color? Google, I am disappointed.

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        2. Please; it prefers the Apollo Gel name of ‘Fatherless Amber’.

          That company, Apollo, has the best color names of anyone! They’ll even have contests to ‘name that color’ sometimes. My favorite is ‘Spank Me Pink’ or ‘Luscious Grape’. But mostly we go by boring numbers. Rosco, (R) R3313 is a favorite front light pink. Gam 915 is a beautiful blue that has recently been overtaken by my new favorite blue, R2006.

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      1. Here’s another color related tidbit: the color magenta was named after the Battle of Magenta in the second Italian War of Independence in 1859. The battle happened to coincide with the development of aniline dyes, and one of the more striking colors made possible by aniline dyes was the color we call magenta. For that reason, it was the big fashion color of the period.

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        1. Cool.

          Another thought is to have a bit of knitwear named after me. Lords Cardigan and Raglan have the sweaters, the Argyle family have their socks. As long as it is not a dishcloth or potholder, I think I could go with having a bit of knitwear named after me. If I were industrious enough, I would design something myself and prehaps name it the Blevins.

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        2. Lords Cardigan and Raglan were commanders in the Crimean War. Lord Raglan’s shoulder seam arrangement was designed to accommodate a missing or damaged arm, if I remember correctly.

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        3. There’s a book about the development of aniline dyes called “Mauve”. This thread reminded me of its existence. I just ordered a secondhand copy from Amazon. If anyone is interested, I can pass it on.

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        1. I’ve reached my request limit at the library as of today. Ish. I’d love to borrow “Mauve” when you’re done!

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        2. I’d love to borrow ‘Mauve’ after Sherrilee.

          I did know the thing about Lord Raglan. I just checked out Henley, thinking that might be a similar story, but Wikipedia says that the Henley shirt is named for Henley-on-Thames, as this is the sort of shirt worn by their rowing team.

          There is another British lord who gave his name to knitwear, but it is escaping me at the moment.

          The Ascot is, of course, named for the racecourse where it was frequently worn.

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  7. After some not so careful thought, I would say back roads that connect places or things in unusual ways might be a good option. Y’know, those weird little roads that may or may not be paved but are great ways to get from point A to point B if only you knew about them. Often they aren’t marked well so you have to know things like “turn at the 3 yellow silos and go until you get to a T in the road. Go left at the T and keep going until you get to the goat farm, then follow the right fork…”

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    1. It might be cool to have a little obscure patch of woods named after yourself if that area is where teenagers park to make out. People would say they’ve been to “Anna’s woods” and everyone else would snicker.

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  8. Another PSA for our baboon garden gathering on Saturday. Between us, Robin and I have either emailed or facebooked quite a few folks. If you haven’t gotten anything off-blog from us and need information, let me know. shelikins @ hotmail.com. Saturday, 1 p.m. at Robin & Bill’s. No gardening gloves required.

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    1. I’ll be returning a DVD and novel that Bill loaned to me, and I might bring other books to distribute to worthy baboons. If I come. And I think I will, unless a vague earlier appointment turns out to be on that day.

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    2. Thanks for the FB shout outs. I’ve been lazy lately without much to say but I have followed the news of the get together.
      We will be coming up to the Orpheum Saturday for the 2:00 performance of ‘WarHorse’ so won’t be able to make the ‘Non-Gardening’ garden party.
      All y’all have fun!

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  9. I like the idea of a flower named after me… Barbara Bells? Or the hairdo I was doing before a recent haircut that I’ve been calling “rooster tail”… Barbara Tail?

    OT: Crystal Bay mentioned a book yesterday that I didn’t read about till today, and I have to second that thought… Tolle’s A New Earth. It’s helped me more than any other single book…

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  10. I know two people who each have had a begonia named after them. I think that’s cool, but I can’t think of anything that should be named after me. Although the pizza I made tonight was pretty darn good, maybe someone could name it after me.

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  11. My first name means “pretty” in Spanish. My last name, if Google Translate can be relied upon, means “regulator” in German. If you were to name something after me, perhaps it would be an exceptionally well-designed and attractive thermostat, or something of the sort.

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    1. i think that’s been already done without our involvement. you are certainly well designed and attractive and you are also the trail thermostat. measuring the conversation and summarizing the overall post with a quote or a summation. linda reuker you keep us pretty regulated

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