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When purchasing new gadgets —gadgets whose warmth and heart will light up your very life— it’s important to name them so they don’t feel left out; so they know they’re important to you.

John and Amy just named their new gadget child, and congratulations are due (congrats, John!), but this is hardly the weblog for that kind of thing. Instead, I’m going to run with an exercise in gadget–naming in the vain hope that I can come up with a name for my PowerBook before I go pick him up next week. Maybe I shouldn’t be trying to name him before his arrival… maybe a name will come to me when I hold him in my arms for the first time. Maybe. That’s how it’s worked in the past, maybe I shouldn’t be messing with a tried–and–true formula.

Looking at the gadgets currently occupying space in my life, there’s no real rhyme or reason in their naming. In fact, you could hardly call it nomenclature at all; a word implying some kind of system, some kind of method. There’s Wiggles, the T68i, whose name was culled from Futurama (he is my first mate, after all); Rabbit, my eMac, named perhaps only for his coloration; Pogo, the XP box; Daintree, the digital camera; and now Bailey, the iPod.

If there’s a pattern there, I don’t know what it is. I shudder to think what my children will be named.