The Eighth Page

Pat Maher Jr.

With all the talk lately about Mother’s Day, I couldn’t help but think about my future. I have been thinking about what it will be like to one day start a family, and the challenges I will face. I could think of no greater challenge than the first obstacle one has to face as a parent: naming their first-born child. In order to be read when the time comes, I have formulated a list of names, and requirements that must be met by the child, if they are called by each name. They are as follows. Death Maher – My clear favorite thus far. Death would have to grow up to be a huge middle linebacker, with a shaved head and tattoos. He would have to be at least 6’4”, and weigh approximately 250 lbs by the time he reached the NFL. Death would bring fear to any opponent, for few people are up to the challenge of “blocking Death” or even “getting in Death’s way.” Death would obviously be a babe magnet. Of course, he is my son, so he will be able to spit mad game, and have at least three hunnies at all time. On each arm. These girls will feel really badass, because if they are lucky, they might get to “bring Death upon themselves.” Death would have to be an only child, because no kid should ever grow up in “the shadow of Death.” YoYo Maher – He would obviously have to play the cello. That feels kind of wussy for the son of a big, burly, manly man like myself, so YoYo would have to do something else really cool. UFC would be my first choice. That way if anyone ever made fun of him for playing the cello, he could beat the piss out of them, then elbow them in the face, and throw them against a chain link fence. No Maher – Nomar Garciaparra was a childhood hero of mine, and since it works really well with my name, I am almost obligated to name my son that. Plus, it would be a lot of fun to yell at him, because I would always sound really mad, screaming “NO! NO! NO!” In keeping with this trend, Nomar is just his father’s name backwards (for all of those illiterate ones reading this article his daddy’s name is Ramon), so I could name my kid Kcirtap Maher as well. That one is not on the list, but Kcirtap is definitely not out of the realm of possibilities. Patrick James Maher Jr.- Every man in his right mind wants to have a son named after him, and contrary to popular belief I am in my right mind. I could call him P.J so that their would be no confusion as to who the real Pat is (there was some confusion about that at Marblehead Veterans Middle School, and I still think that it definitely wasn’t Pat Song, Pat Buchanan, or Pat Trout). P.J. would also be referred to as “Peej” because that is what my dad called me, and his dad before him, and his dad before him. It is one of those names that is passed down from generation even if the child’s name is James, or Robert, or even Thomas. Weird, I know, I said I was in my right mind; I never denied anything about being weird or having a weird family. Now that I have made my list of names, I have to find some girl who is genetically capable of having kids like the ones that I have described. Please let me know if you have the phone numbers of any attractive female body builders. x6651.