One of my favorites namespotting locations is Franklin’s, our local brewpub/restaurant/toy store – is there any better combination? – because, of course, we’re all chasing our children around while we wait for a table.  The other night, I heard a dad calling Raleigh – but wait, no – he was calling Rally.  After a few more rounds of “Rally, no you can’t have that fill-in-the-blank,” dad resorted to his son’s full name: Ralph.  I’ve always wanted to like Ralph, but between The Honeymooners and the lack of a nickname and my sense that I’m not cool enough to pronounce the name Rafe, well … all of a sudden, Rally rescued Ralph for me.

Here’s a debate that I’ve long since quit, but find fascinating nonetheless: a thread on Nameberry’s message boards devoted to LEGITIMATE Alternate Spellings – emphasis theirs.  Beyond the futility of telling people they can’t spell their daughter’s name Kaydence – because, really, they can and they do – I’m amazed at how much wrong information is out there.  A few I noticed:

• Rachael was dubbed a hyperforeignism.  (That’s SAT-speak for attempting to apply the rules of one language to another and falling flat.)  I prefer Rachel, too, but Rachael has a long history of use, probably by parents familiar with the perfectly English spelling of Michael;
• While some embraced Katharine, one dismissed her as nothing more than an imitation of Hepburn.  But that’s not so – plenty of Katharines pre-date the twentieth century, and in the nineteenth century she’s fairly common;
• On Greer vs. Grier: “since it’s a surname, there can’t really be a legitimate spelling.”  Surnames have been subject to the same forces as given names – respellings, adaptations into other languages, inadvertent manglings, multiple spellings applied to the same person over the years.

Spellings matter.  Charlotte’s charm is sacrificed when she’s respelled Sharlytte, and I’m never sure is Mya sounds like Maya or Mia.  And I don’t know that there’s much point in taking a really popular choice like Madison and swapping out letters to arrive at Maddasynne.  But attempts to draw a hard bright line are futile.  Language is ever-changing, a rushing stream, and the more I learn about names, the more I’m convinced that they’re a slippery fish.  Which making writing naming rules something like trout fishing with your hands.

It also hits close to home – my cousin S. just welcomed a daughter named Alivia.  It wouldn’t be my choice, but she’s a much-loved addition to the family, and all of a sudden, I couldn’t care less if she were named Chardonnay.

Ahem.  I’m putting my soapbox away – promise – to look at what else was out there this week:

• ForReal Baby Names spotted this one: Phantom Jack.  Usually I like an offbeat noun name, but Phantom seems sinister;
• Here’s a second one from ForReal: For all of those newborns named just Alfie or Bess, this one surprised me: Elissia Kath. Kate, sure.  Kathy, of course.  But Kath feels incomplete;
• I loved this post at Swistle.  The parents of Oberon Elwood are looking for a name for their daughter on the way.  I loved their idea of Ursula, nicknamed Zuzu, but there were lots of great options suggested, like Thisbe;
• You really should click through to this post at You Can’t Call It “It” just for the Mighty Mouse graphic.  Okay, and for the list of three-letter names for boys, of which there are more than you imagine.  Asa has recently become one of my favorites;
• Here’s a great story from Nancy: the parents were rushing to the hospital, but baby #4 arrived en route, in the front seat of their Toyota Corolla.  Instead of Cecilia Violet, their daughter was named – wait for it – Cecilia Freeway.  Cecilia will never be able to give her full name without telling the story of her birth, but at least it is more subtle than naming her Corolla;
• Nymbler’s July list is out: Lucy and Violet entered the Top Ten favorite names for the first time, and the five new search names were Annabeth, Adalaide, Arbor, Kensley, and Moxie.  It’s easy to see the appeal of the spelling Adalaide, and Arbor is a natural addition to Willow and River.  And I guess Penn Jillette gets the last laugh if Moxie becomes as common as, say, Sadie.

The big starbaby news was the birth of Amy Poehler and Will Arnett’s son Abel, a little brother for Archie, but there’s also:

• American Idol alum Tamyra Gray welcomed a daughter, Sienna Marie;
• Via Gawker, Will Ferrell was on Regis and Kelly, and he discussed his sons’ names: Magnus, Matthias, and Axel.  Loved this line: “They better not be bassoon players.”

That’s all for this week – as always, thank you so much for reading!

Thanks to Corinne for suggesting Ralph as Name of the Day.

I’m not clear when we started conjugating ralph.  In the 1910s and 20s, Ralph was a Top 20 pick, a favorite akin to Nathan today.  He fell steadily through the years, plummeting after the 1970s and 80s.  (When, I suspect, Ralph morphed from merely out-of-fashion to out-of-the-question.)  In 2008 he ranked #868.  Though I wonder – how many of those Ralphs are juniors answering to R.J.?

Besides the slang, there’s Chief Wiggum’s oddball son Ralph on The Simpsons; John Goodman’s unlikely monarch in the 1991 movie King Ralph and Jackie Gleason’s legendary Ralph Kramden from The Honeymooners.  Memorable characters to be sure, but none of them likely to inspire a son’s name.

But there’s also the charming Ralphie, hero of A Christmas Story. Ralph Lauren hasn’t been troubled by his less-than-debonair given name.  (Though he did drop his surname, Lifshitz.)  Ralph Waldo Emerson is about as admired as can be.

And then there’s Ralph Fiennes.

Don’t call him RALF.  He’s RAFE, thanks.  And while that might seem affected, it is legitimate.  Rádúlfr was brought to England by the Vikings; the Normans simplified it to Radulf.  The rad means counsel; the ulf, wolf.  Rafe emerged as a diminutive – and that was the spelling and pronunciation in use, along with Ralf.  Ralph came into the game only in the last 300 years or so.

If you prefer Rafe, why not use Raphael or Rafael or even, well, Rafe?  He’s artistic and angelic and a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle, too.  In the US, the odds of Ralph being pronounced like the actor?  They’re not great.

And yet Ralph his history:

• There’s the ninth-century Ralph/Radulf/Raoul, Bishop of Bourges, founder of monasteries.  He’s now considered a saint;
• Ralf of Mantes was an English noble in the 1050s, responsible for kicking off castle building pre-Norman invasion;
• Ralph d’Escures was a twelfth-century Archbishop of Canterbury;
• Saint Ralph Crockett was English-born, ordained in France and martyred once he returned to his native land – the year was 1588, and he’d come home to reconvert England under Henry VIII.

Head to a magazine stand in Australia, and you’ll find Ralph Magazine – something akin to Maxim.  (Maxim, of course, ranked #701 in the US last year.)

Ralph is also a surname, as is Ralphs – as in entrepreneur  and grocer George Ralphs.  Head to California, and you can pick up a loaf of bread and a quart of milk at Ralphs.  The original location in Los Angeles’ Westwood Village was photographed by Ansel Adams and is now on the National Register of Historic Places – and is no longer a grocery store.  But the chain is alive and well, and part of the Kroger family.

None of this necessarily boosts Ralph as a baby name.  But perhaps he’ll gain some traction amongst stylish parents in the UK.  Actor Matthew McFadyen – you probably remember him as Mr. Darcy, opposite Keira Knightley in 2005′s adaptation of Pride and Prejudice but he’s also appeared on the BBC’s MI-5 and Frost/Nixon.  He named his daughter Maggie, and his son, Ralph. 

So that’s one bright spot for a name that has suffered much indignity in the past few decades.  I’m still not sure he’s wearable, even though there are probably a lot of Grandpa Ralphs out there who would argue otherwise.

Thanks to Natalie for suggesting today’s Name of the Day.

Say the name to a school-aged child and the Raphael that springs to mind is probably a turtle – a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle, to be precise.  Like his fellow crime-fighting testudinates – Leonardo, Michelangelo and Donatello – he was named after a Renaissance painter, the Italian Raffaello Sanzio.

Raphael is also an archangel, referenced by name in Judaism, Christianity and Islam.  The Hebrew translation of his name means “God heals.”  There have been two Saint Raphaels, both in recent times, and dozens of communities are named in his honor: Saint-Raphaël in France and San Rafael through the Spanish-speaking world.

In fact, the influence of Spanish is significant.  Rafael ranked #228 in the US Top 1000 boys’ names for 2007.  Raphael, however, languished at a relatively obscure #705. 

Regardless of spelling, it is normally pronounced rah fye EL and the nickname is always spelled Rafe, with an f.

It’s worth noting that Ralph is not, in fact, related to Raphael in origin or history.  However at least one famous Ralph – actor Fiennes – favors the pronunciation “Rafe.”  There’s also a similar Arabic name, Raef, again not linked to Raphael or Ralph.

What is certain is that the name is quite familiar throughout the world.  Raphael is a Top 20 name in Quebec and Rafael ranks in the Top 50 in Spain.

While the name has a romantic quality, it’s not quite as extreme as calling your boy Romeo.  And the short form Rafe makes the three syllables easier to wear.

If you’re hunting for a name with a certain pan-European flair and a long history of use, this is certainly one to consider.

Trouble is, that while some names are easily, and cheerfully passed down, others feel a little, well, moth-eaten.

So what’s an expectant parent to do about the expectations of grandparents?

There are a few possibilities:

1. Pitch a fit and refuse to call your darling baby boy Stuart, just because your mother-in-law wants it. You want to call your son Jaidyn! This is, of course, a valid option. It’s your hand holding the pen.  And want grandparent won’t melt when they meet a new grandchild, regardless of appellation?

But may I gently suggest that it might be kinder to at least consider the family heirloom? If you’re old enough to become a parent, we here at Appellation Mountain rather hope that you’re old enough to think sensibly about making such a life-long choice.

2. Embrace the quirkiness of calling your newborn baby boy Angus, Vincent or Floyd. Obviously, this works better for some names than others. Everyone is happy except, possibly, your son. And you. Because while a handful of old school names are underused gems – Angus is fabulous choice – plenty of them are just awkward by the standards of 2008. So if you can’t imagine introducing your son Floyd without cringing, read on!

3. Add a J. This is a long-standing trick for distinguishing fathers and sons sharing a name; it can also mask a less-than-lovely first name. If you can’t imagine calling your baby boy Roger – a hot choice in the 1940s and 50s, prime grandpa age today – then can you stomach calling him RJ? Yes, he’ll still be Roger James on his driver’s license, but you don’t have to think about that. This works for any first name starting with A, B, C, D, J, P, R or T, so it’s worth considering.

4. Use it as his middle name. This often makes nearly everyone nearly as happy as if it had been bestowed as a given name. Grandma can introduce the newest family member as Charles Bruce, while you breathe easy.  It’s sometimes the best dodge available, but not every family is content with such a compromise.

5. Use it as his first name, but call him by his middle. The world overflows with people called S. Michael and G. Anthony, many for this very reason. You might feel bound by tradition to use the hand-me-down name, but nothing says it has to be trotted out for everyday use. Will it create a few headaches with paperwork now and again? Sure.  But if Stanley just has to be your child’s formal name, well, it’s not a bad escape.

I’ve saved the best for last, dear reader. If you’re really dreading using that family name, even in the middle spot, why not consider:

6. Remix it. Plenty of worn-out names from generations past are prime for a makeover. If you can’t possibly consider calling your new son Arthur, could you call him by the dashing and fashionable moniker Archer? Grandpa Walter’s name could be nipped and tucked and emerge as Walton, a surname choice that feels perfectly in step in 2008. Likewise, Richard becomes Hardy; Milton becomes Miller.

Here are a few other potential remixes, but the list is endless:

• Gary becomes Garrett
• Wayne becomes Zane
• Raymond becomes Ryan
• Ronald becomes Ronan or Rohan
• Harold becomes Harris or even Harry
• Roy or Leroy becomes Kingston (a stretch, perhaps, but Roy and Leroy are derived from the French le roi – for the king.)
• Ralph becomes Raphael, with the great nickname Rafe

Will your family accept it, or balk and protest “But Daddy’s name was Scott, not Otto!” Maybe. Possibly.

Just remind them that you could’ve called your new little person Jaidyn, and hope that gets them off your back.