“Hi, I’m Cindi … Cindi with an ‘i’.”

Well, Cindi with an “i”, FYI, “Cindy” is spelled with a “y”.

No matter how trendi your parents thought they were, all theyreally did was jinx your life to create the “dotted i” ding-batthat you are.

A friend of mine dated a girl named “Jermyni” or “Germany” forall of us geography buffs, and oddly enough her name translates inGerman; “Deutchland,” despite its cute English spelling.

I once worked with a lady named “Rainbow”, and as if that wasn’tbad enough she spelled it W-R-A-I-N-B-E-A-U.

If that isn’t proof that her parents meet on Ashbury Street, andswallowed quaaludes the size of shooter marbles twice a day, then Iwould say nothing could be much more than merely accusation.

Bob Dylan named his son “Jacob”, but decided to spell it”Jakob”.

We’re all pretty confidant where Bob was in the sixties, soperhaps we’ll let him slide.

All a name really is is a marketing device.

The late great Johnny Cash sung about “A Boy Named Sue”, andKentucky Fried Chicken is now referred to as “KFC”.

Why a boy named Sue and KFC? So the boy could grow up tough andnot be turned off eating fried chicken because the word “Fried” inthe Restaurant’s name has a fatty connotation.

Oddly enough, I never heard of a word clogging up arteries.

Sticking with this whole food thing, I’d be willing to bet thatif I wore a shirt that said “carb free” or “made with Splenda”, I’dget laid more often.

Perhaps, Jet Blue wouldn’t have the success it has had if theyhad named it Jet Red.

Names are supposed to give us a clue as to who or what theyare.

For example: “KitchenAid,” “Candy,” “Wordsworth,” “Vagisil,””Mississippi.”

You should have gathered from the names: Something that helpsyou in the kitchen, a stripper, poet, woman products, stupid.

Those were easy, but what about these: “Christian,” “Bengay,””Gigli,” “Dirty Sanchez.”

Christian was a guy I knew in high school who beat me up andworshipped Satan. Ben-gay as we know is a medicated cream, but comeon. Gigli sounded like a butt shakin’ good time–it sucked, and asscary and unrefined as Dirty Sanchez sounds, he’s actually quiteamazing.

I guess it’s true what they say, “you can’t read a book by it’scover”, but no one really cares as long as you buy the cover.

But what the hell do I know, I’m Jay with a “J”.