In my last post Benson asked, “What’s her name?” This made me laugh because it’s been quite a point of contention around here. When I first started dating Todd, he told me, “You have to give your bike a sexy name!” His bikes’ names have a definite risqué ring to them. Fine. I proceeded to name my mountain bike “Conrad” and my road bike “Macca.”
With the new bike hanging from the rafters on layaway, he asked, “What are you going to name her?” “Her?!!!” I quipped, “Oh no, it’s a him.” “Nah, that bike is so sexy, there’s no way that’s not a her,” he replied. The guys in the bike shop agreed with him, of course.
In the back of my mind, I was thinking I might name my next bike “Crowie” for Craig Alexander. But I needed to think about it some more. I conferred with my college roommate, Leslie, who teaches college English now. She made the compelling argument that Cervelo ends in “o” and anything that ends in “o” in Italian is a guy.
A couple of days later she suggested, “What about ‘Otto’?” Not the sexiest name. (No offense to the Ottos of the world.) She had a great rationale for it. Since she calls me “Six” (short for my blog) and the cat is “Seven” (short for 734 which is 623+111) then it makes sense to have an eight. In Italian, that’s “Otto.” Otto was also the name of my grandfather whom I never got a chance to meet, so it was a sentimental pick.
A few days later, I was watching last year’s Ironman World Championships with Sharkbait after a Master’s swim and a training ride. We started thinking of Jon Blais, aka Blazeman, who so courageously completed Kona with ALS. Sharkbait looked at me and said, “What about Blaze?” We both grinned. “Yeah, I like it.” It has a nice double entendre. Blaze as in fast. And Blaze as in gutsy, nothing-will-ever-make-me-quit. I told Todd and he replied, “I like it, but can we call it Blazette?”