Wednesday Wanderings

I know people who give certain important possessions proper names:  harps, cars, computers, maybe if you had a truly amazing toothbrush.  It's always seemed like an odd habit to me, though at the same time, I've felt a little wistful about the fact I don't indulge in it.  It seems like the kind of thing a whimsical, creative person ought to do.

I think there are two reasons I don't feel the urge to name my harp, etc.  The first is something I discussed in a previous blog post:  people name/label things (... and other people ...) to allow themselves to think about, remember, manipulate concepts, and so forth.  For those of us who are very kinesthetic, such labels are replaced by a "feel" for the object or person.

The second is ... for me, I think it comes close to anthropomorphizing the object.  My sense of reality is a little wacky as it is, and I already talk to inanimate objects.  My subconscious doesn't need any encouragement!  This probably sounds like a frivolous reason, and it is ... but I do feel odd "acknowledging" an inanimate object by name.

The one notable exception in my life is more descriptor than name.  My laptop clings stubbornly to life, after several part exchanges (upgraded memory, new battery, new power cord, new hard drive, random failures (I've never determined what that musical shrieking noise was, but it stopped years ago), and other odd quirks.  It keeps dying, at which point I freak out, and then claws back to life.

I refer to it as "the Frankenlaptop."