The Name Game

It's my hope that while reading UpDades, you not only keep informed on our family's journey through CDH, but that you also get to know Tara and me, if only just a little.  Laughter is a defining trait of our marriage.  Some of my favorite moments together are when we're on long car rides, we're talking, one of us cracks a joke or a smart remark, we both cry laughing, and Tara totally doesn't snort.  When Tara and I found out about Dade's CDH, we decided at the outset that although things will undeniably change, to make it through this, one thing we have to strive for is to come out on the other side still us - still Tara, still D.J., still fundamentally the Stricklands. Without downplaying the seriousness of Dade's situation or the gravity of the information we have posted and will post here, we just wouldn't be us if a little whimsy isn't injected here and there. With that in mind, let's talk about Dade's name.

It's fair to say that little Dade has a unique name, so several people have unsurprisingly asked us how it came to be.  I'd love to tell you that his name has its roots in history, derived from the name of a great Scottish or Irish general, or an English royal far, far, back in my bloodline.

Sizergh Castle in England has actually belonged to the Strickland family for 800 years.  Happy Anniversary, Tara!

I'd like to say that his name comes from literature, perhaps named for the clever, mythological Greek craftsman Daedalus.  That would be appropriate for the son of an engineer, would it not? As is often the case, however, the truth is far more bland - we accidentally made it up.

My criteria for evaluating a name is simple.  I walk up to someone, look them in the eye, shake their hand, and introduce myself with it (I use people I know so they don't think I'm high on something). How does it sound?  Does it assault the ear?  Does the listener cock his/her head like a confused puppy? Does it evoke images of an 80's hair band?  I'll have plenty of opportunities to fail as a parent.  I can't start on his first day by naming him something like "Jed I. Knight".

You thought I made it up.  May the Force be with you, little guy. You're going to need it.

We had several name options laid out for a man-child even before we found out that Dade is a dude, but since I'm a junior (D.J. = Derril Jr. for the uninitiated), I had first dibs deciding his name.  I'd love to have a 3rd, but there were a few complications.

First of all, as much as I love my name, we've got plenty of Derril going around already.  I'm Derril Strickland, Jr. which of course means Dad is Derril Strickland, Sr.  Tara's father is Darrell Parker, so Derril Strickland, III is getting a tad redundant.

Don't lie. You were thinking it.

 Newhart references aside, options for what we'd call him as a 3rd were slim:

• Trey Strickland - It's alright, but it's been done.  
• Tripp Strickland - I didn't even have to introduce with this one to nix it; I just said it out loud. Why? I dare you to tell me this doesn't sound real:

    It's a naysty 'un her at the Talladega 500 tuhday, and the field's purty taht comin' around Turn 6!  Jeff Gordon is leadin' the pack and looks lahk he'll wi.... WAIT! WAIT! HERE COMES TRIPP STRICKLAND MAKIN' A MOVE TO THE OUTSAHD!  HE'S COMIN' UP HOT!  HE'S GONNA TAKE IT HOME ok you get my point.

          Look, if the kid goes that route and brings home the checkered flag at 'Dega one day, I'll splash               Gatorade in the winner's circle right beside him, but right now all I can picture is our own                     version of Ricky Bobby... so no.

Dear 6 lb., 8 oz. Baby Jesus, please don't let my son scream for Oprah Winfrey to put out the invisible fire on his body.

• Trace Strickland - eh... I like the ring of it, but we're stretching it now.  We actually almost went with this one.

What now, then?  Well, we thought about it a while and came up with a few other options.  I even posed the question to my 7th period freshman class one afternoon, but I couldn't get Tara to roll with RichardBenAlbertMitRamsey, III, majestic as it is.  Then one night, it just happened...  We had been over it and over it, and Tara had thrown out stuff like "Aloysius" and "Mervin" (she didn't really, but absolutely would have given the chance) when in a bit of frustration, I finally said, "Fine!  We'll take your dad's Da- (Darrell) and my dad's De- (Derril), smash 'em together.  Dade."  The room fell silent. After a few seconds of this:

It clicked, and our faces changed to this:

"Dade" sounded awesome!  I ran through my testing protocol - "Hi, I'm Dade Strickland."  Sounds strong!  That'll sound great as a businessman, on a band stage (from the lead mic of course), from a football/baseball/insert-sport-here roster, and even if he's a businessman linebacker rockstar!

So there you have it - how Dade is no longer just a county in Florida.