It’s a rare occasion that I wish my name were Vern. But I can see one reason why. So I could start a personal blog called Vernacular.
Vernacular (or would it be: Vernacular!) is an online magazine to house the musings only a Vern is capable of musing. Verns around the world would scroll and click and consume every bit of that Vern-oriented content. This is based on an assumption that those named Vern have specific world views (best clarified in blog form), and thirst for a publication written by and for them.
Because right? Also, for some reason I associate Verns with ferns. (Because they rhyme? No. There must be another reason.)
Yet how is it that Vernon, with its two extra letters, is four letters more respectable? (At least four.) Vernon is a man that I would loan my brand new leaf blower to. Vern is a man I would politely, but firmly ask, “Hey are you almost done with that leaf blower?”
Does this suggest a Syllable Theory of Male First Names? Let’s find out.
One syllable names
The mono-syllabic male first name has a retro feel to it. It hearkens back to an age when every business was a factory called “Plexco,” clipboards were ubiquitous, and White Men were in charge:
Two syllable names
Add a syllable and it’s like planing off a layer of patriarchy. Here are the same(ish) names, but note how they are marginally more effete. These men aren’t the CEO, but they might run the accounting apartment.
Three syllable names
Add syllable number three and these names start to get a bit hinky–and un poco caliente. The third syllable is the fulcum of not only Modern Life, but also the redefinition of gender roles, late-stage capitalism, et cetera…
While the specific effect is less clear, these are dudes I’d rather party with. (Excepting Reginald, of course.)
Four syllable names
As we enter the Realm of the Fourth Syllable it becomes clear this experiment is less “science” and more something written-on-a-Friday:
|1 syllable||2 syllables||3 syllables||4 syllables|
|Bill||Billy||Will.I.Am||The Black Eyed Peas|
These results feel squishy. Get the full report in next month’s Vernacular.