Listen, let me just say that I have nothing against fruits of any kind be they canned or fresh off the vine.
I have had a long tradition of liking fruits. There were many times as a child where I would engage a fruit instead of sneaking a handful of Flintstone’s chewable vitamins from our cupboard. I was a fan of the orange, a fan of the banana, a fan of the grape (and its friends as they came together in bushels), a fan of the nectarine, the plum, the mango, the pear and the apple.
As a child going to elementary school and junior high school, I often found apples in my lunchbag, alongside things like a sandwich and chips. Mind you, it was never Doritos, simply because (supposedly) Doritos were not good for you and instead, things like wheat thins found their way into my lunchbag instead. But who was I to complain when there was a shiny, juicy orb of appleness sitting there waiting for my hungry mouth.
I might even go so far as to say that I love apples. Crazy, I know. But here, today, I am willing to go that extra mile to communicate to you that I harbor no ill-will towards any apples of any kind of any country of any farmer’s fields or trees. I couldn’t love the apple anymore than my own parents.
But naming a child, apple?
Gwyneth Paltrow and her Coldplay singing husband have seen fit to name their child after a fruit. And not a random fruit that might work as a name like Pomogranite Paltrow or Kiwi Paltrow or Badly Bruised Pear Paltrow.
They have named their child, apple.
By allowing a celebrity couple to name their child after one of the most beloved, mainstream fruits of all time (I mean, didn’t Eve fall prey to sin in the Garden of Eden after eating an evil apple?), and by us (the media…I’m now the media if you haven’t guessed), we have basically said to them, in no uncertain terms:
“Hey, so the whole World was thinking about it, and after careful consideration, we’d really like you both to know that we’re extremely behind naming your child after the most mainstream fruit of all mankind and hope that you have another child that you can name Muffler Paltrow before too long. Cheers!”
That’s exactly what’s going to happen. Soon-to-be parents who are sick of the mainstream boring names (they said it, I didn’t) will go out and name their kids crazy things like:
gobstopper cowlick washer lasagna ball-bearing twenty-nine breeze granite gel eclair
You think I’m kidding, but you know I’m right. Had they named their newborn, “Lasagna Paltrow” or “Twenty-nine Paltrow” we’d all be fawning over the originality of it all. Well you know what? It isn’t original.
It’s stupid.
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