Some things in life are really hard to do.

Becoming a Billionaire. Being elected President of the United States. Marrying Elizabeth Taylor (which, in fairness, is only made difficult now because she’s dead).

But no single task in life is more challenging than naming your child.

It’s True What They Say; the First $76 Billion is Always the Hardest.       (Photo: Shutterstock.com) — **It’s True What They Say; the First $76 Billion is Always the Hardest.** (Photo: Shutterstock.com)

The simple truth is, the act of giving your child a name is…not so simple.

So many baby name choices. Biblical? Celebrity? Celebrity portmanteau? (Brangelina, Bennifer, etc.). You just KNOW that in the coming months some IQ Buster is going to name their child “Kimye”, and that makes me want to ban human reproduction altogether. Trust me, I have that power.

Even something as—well, medieval--as Game of Thrones has spawned what no less an authority than Entertainment Weekly terms “an epic baby name boom”. And accolades to EW’s Stephanie Robbins for writing what is perhaps the single most interesting sentence this decade:

According to data from the Social Security Administration, in 2012, there were 146 female babies born named Khaleesi.

[Editors Note: And in a remarkable coincidence, not one of those 292 parents has even heard of Game of Thrones.]

My Child Will Never Know a World with Premium Cable Channels.     (Photo: Time Warner) — **My Child Will Never Know a World with Premium Cable Channels**. (Photo: Time Warner)

Of course, we’d be remiss if we didn’t call our celebrity friends out on the carpet.

Oh, those silly, nutty, wacky famous people, who seemingly crave the white hot spotlight so much, they are willing to sacrifice their children’s future physical and mental health, just to be unique (and draw even more attention to themselves in the process).

Here’s a partial list of celebrity paint by name-bers:

Zuma Nesta Rock (Gwen Stefani)

Moxie Crimefighter (Penn Gillette)

Pilot Inspektor (Jason Lee)

Speck Wildhorse (John Mellencamp)

Kal-El (Nicholas Cage’s special gift to his son—Superman’s Kryptonian name)

And a special shout out to Chef Jamie Oliver, whose name choices for his four kids--Poppy Honey Rosie, Daisy Boo Pamela, Petal Blossom Rainbow and Buddy Bear Maurice-- leave little doubt he cooks with prodigious amounts of alcohol.

Frank Zappa, himself no baby-naming slouch after giving the world Dweezil, Diva Thin Muffin and Moon Unit, was once asked why he chose those names:

Why not name your kids something like that? Besides if they ever wanted to change it, they can do it. It only costs about $15.

Well Francis, we have a better idea for celeb kiddies: REVENGE.

Take for instance, actor Rob Morrow’s daughter, Tu—get it?—whom I truly hope grows up to marry a man named Joe F*ckinMuch (What? It’s Germanic).

You see, names are brands for people. Allow me to demonstrate. First, I’ll say a product brand name and tell you what pops into my mind.

Snuggles Fabric Softener: (Awwww….it’s gonna make my hoodie smell so fresh and feel so soft! And look at that little bear mascot they have. Most bears smell like rot. Most bears have larceny in their hearts. The Snuggles Bear uses a fuzzy blue blankie for a parachute!)

Now, let’s try it with a person’s name:

Speck Wildhorse: (Wow, kid, your Dad is an A**HOLE.)

The branding of your offspring could have far-flung consequences, such as pre-determining their status in life. Need proof? Look how many radio announcers are named Mike. Need better proof? Mr. & Mrs. Gates of the Pacific Northwest named their son—who eventually became the richest man on earth—Bill. Yes, as in Dollar (Bill). Yes, as in (Bill) ionaire.

Oh, I’m not saying every kid named Bill will eventually conquer the business world, but I do fully expect Nic Cage’s son to grow up and become a reporter at the Daily Planet.

My Only Kryptonite is Sanity.          (Photo:  Comicsbeat.com) — **My Only Kryptonite is Sanity.** (Photo: Comicsbeat.com)

Plus, your child’s moniker says as much about you as it does about them.

So the day of reckoning has finally come for you, parents of Barclay, Bentley, Chesney, Drexel, Goldman, Haverford, McLaren, Shelton and Wellesley, for there is a special place in Hell reserved for those who name their children after expensive cars, investment banks, country music singer’s last names or the college they attended. Yeah, that’s right--I’m talking to YOU, parents of AppalachianState Johnson*).

[*Editor’s Note: If there is anyone out there actually named AppalachianState Johnson, I send my sincerest apology. And sympathy.]

Now let me tell you about the most magical name of all: Sabrina.

Completely coincidentally, this is the name of my daughter.

Sabrina has been my favorite name since I was practically a toddler. You see, I am a child of the 70’s and was glued to the television for such thought-provoking shows as The Six-Million Dollar Man, Three’s Company & Fantasy Island.

But one show stood firmly above the crowd. Not for its biting wit. Not for its sweeping dramatic arcs. Certainly not for its pensive social commentary. But I defy you to name me one other show that had Jaclyn Smith, Farrah Fawcett and Kate Jackson.

The year was 1976. The show was Charlie’s Angels. And this pre-pubescent lad lost his little mind when he saw women who looked that good. Certainly, Miss Jenny—my 62 year-old kindergarten teacher--was not the crush worthy-sort of babe a single man of the 1970’s like me deserved. So I naturally defaulted to the Halo-huggers.

I'm Not A Praying Man But Lord Please Turn Me Into a Tennis Racquet, a Pony and/or Sand.    (Photo: Getty Images) — **I'm Not A Praying Man But Lord Please Turn Me Into a Tennis Racquet, a Pony and/or Sand.** (Photo: Getty Images)

What does any of this nonsense have to do with the name Sabrina?

Well, Jaclyn Smith—the one in the white bikini—was my childhood crush and her character’s name on Charlie’s Angels was…Kelly. However, Kate Jackson’s character on the show was named Sabrina. Confused? Well, when I first started watching the show I incorrectly thought Jaclyn’s character was named Sabrina. When I realized my mistake, it was too late: I had already committed my heart to the name.

The day we brought my daughter home from the hospital, my wife and I took her for a long walk from our new apartment. We had just moved there the week before but had yet to survey the area completely.

About a mile along, we passed a five-foot high, greenish-grey statue of a playful nymph. The name on the base read simply: SABRINA. I took that as a sign from the universe confirming my naming decision.

But what do I know? I’m just happy my parents never attended Ball State University.

It was either Bill-ionaire or Spend My Life Behind Iron Gates. I Chose Wisely.       (Photo: DigitalSpy.com) — **It was either Bill-ionaire or Spend My Life Behind Iron Gates. I Chose Wisely.** (Photo: DigitalSpy.com)