- I've discovered a new occupation. I wanna be the guy who makes up names for new developers to call their "zero lot line, small lot, bulldoze everything over 4 feet tall, sand pit" housing developments, which they call communities, desperately seeking respect. I've noticed that while there are actually some residential developments whose names are accurate descriptors, there are many more which are simply the same alliterative gobbledy gook which characterizes Asian auto manufacturer's offerings. I guess the exact moment stealthily crept by when instead of a name actually making sense, it now has to be a tasty soundbite. I blame several industries' ad agencies for this turn of events: drug companies, developers and the auto industry.
Harken back to a time when the extent of drug advertising in media was pretty much Alka- Seltzer (whose name actually described its function as acid reducing bubbly stuff) and Vicks (which was, I suppose someone's name) Vaporub (which you rubbed in, and God knows it produced vapor!). In the naiveté of youth I actually believed there were two brothers named Smith, who made great cough drops in cherry and "original licorice" flavor, which, by the way, ( be honest about it), we ate like candy, not because of coughs, usually. I suppose the fact that the package showed their first names as "Trade" and "Mark" would have been a tipoff to a more perceptive kid! Now we have Omeprazole, which no one actually knows by that name, because Prilosec is catchier. In the same vein, is Humera funny? There are several versions of statins, but we know them by the catchy trade names, Lipitor, Zocor, Mevacor, Altocor and others, all of which sound like alien planets from an episode of Dr. Who. My fave in the statin naming frenzy, though has to be Crestor, which sounds to me like it'll clean your arteries and your teeth in one simple pill. It's difficult to believe that patients actually used to see a physician , let him diagnose their symptoms and take the resultant prescription to a pharmacy for filling. Now many walk in, having self diagnosed from a TV ad, and ask for a drug by brand name. Scary! As a postscript to this, do you ever wonder if they really listen to the rapidly delivered list of possible negative side effects? Has anyone actually said, "Yes, Janet, I want to lose weight and damn the anal leakage, full speed ahead" or, "Yes, George, I'd like to pee less frequently, and blindness is just a risk I gotta take"!
Auto makers have sought ever catchier names from the early post war years, but the entry of Asians, who judged salability by the sound regardless of the meaning, injected an insidious "naming bug" into the system and it threatens the entire industry. Once upon a time, a man named Ford built a car and called it "Model T," which name stuck for more than a decade, then he radicalized it to "Model A." Early on, English language names of cars (usually high end models in the line) were meant to invoke images of social status, swiftness or beauty. All these are/were actual aspects or goals of vehicle ownership. It should be noted that this descriptive approach passed right by the pick-up truck market where a number was usually sufficient to describe a work vehicle. Chevrolet's top end was the Impala, named for a fleet, graceful animal and Studebaker had the Golden Hawk . Ford had the Crown Victoria and Lincoln the Continental, nondescriptive, but evocative of royalty, and the Thunderbird (evocative of "not as good as a Corvette!" lol). Many models were named for places you might wish to visit in your vehicle (Bel Air, Monterrey, Riviera) or characteristics of speed and comfort (Zephyr, Dart, Clipper, Corvette). There was the occasional screw up, as in the Chevy Nova, since Nova means new in Latin (a desirable quality in a car) but "no va" in Spanish implies "it won't go", a somewhat less desirable quality. It should also be noted that Europeans, excluding the generally excessively verbose Italians, held out the longest and tended to ignore the hype and just use model numbers like Mercedes, BMW, Audi, and others. Then the Asians entered the market. From the earliest days, Asian auto manufacturers realized that, generally speaking, actual Japanese or Korean descriptive names weren't going to sell cars. The answer was having their ad agencies (mostly American) follow the path of the drug companies and simply pick catchy sounds, regardless of meaning. The result has been a spate of non-words used as car model names. A sampling includes Sephia, Azera, Alera, Sentra, Nubira, Mirada, Achieva, Ciera, Amante, Fiero, Alero, Solara, Sentra, Miata, Arnage,, Zagato, Leganza, Impreza, Prizm, Xterra, Aztek, Forenza and Boxter. Some names are apparently chosen for the cryptic hint of mystery as well: Spyder, Prius, Equus and Tibaron exude mystery, but are devoid of meaning in any language. Japanese and other Asian auto manufacturers seem to have one source of market seizing names for many of their models. Ichi Otomaka, "the sage of Osaka" is renowned for his knowledge of primeval Japanese languages and his marketing savvy ( he coined the nonsense word Camry, for Toyota's best seller) while most American and European auto-makers employ various well paid market consultants and focus group techniques to suggest new model names.
With what has to be a diminishing supply of nonsense words that sound good, it is probably inevitable that Auto manufacturers world wide will eventually turn to other sources for attention grabbing titles. So what will the industry turn to next for inspiring new names for the models to come over the next decade? Marketing experts are reportedly turning to Gray's Anatomy, the Merck Medical Manual, and the Physician's Desk Reference as sources for naming new and exciting models. Human body parts and their conditions and functions sound mysterious and/or foreign and, in consonance with the phony drug naming frenzy, seem like a perfect fit. In this refreshing departure, we will be inundated with a new spectrum of real word names that sound very much like today's fake ones.
According to Industry sources, some of the new models in production for 2013 and 2014 include the Cadillac Aorta, the Chevy Patella, the Dodge Placenta, the Volvo Pudenda, and Mitsubishi's Aureola. The requisite need for he-man names will be satisfied by gas guzzling monster SUVs in the offing: Toyota Thorax, Lincoln Larynx, Mercury Maxilla, Subaru Plexus and the anxiously awaited three-ton Chevy Scrotum. Vying for attention in the mini-car, runabout, and hybrid car market will be the Cooper Wart, Toyota's Tic, the Subaru Zit, MG Barf, and the Cooper Flatulator.
For sports cars, expect the Plymouth Plasma, the Ford Cornea, Toyota's Tibia , the Porsche Vulva, Volvo Viagra, and a few super-sports vehicles such as the swift and sleek Ferrari Sphincter and the Aston Martin Seizure. Top of the line luxury cars will include Rolls-Royce's Silver Mandible, Bentley's exclusive Testes II, the Lincoln Grand Mal, Cadillac's Thalmus, the Lexus EKG and the Mercedes Penis Maximus. The ultimate ride will still be the Lamborghini, whose gull winged Coitus Interruptus is expected to come (eventually) to well over $100K and be very fast.
By the year 2010, we are told that the automakers and their consultants probably will turn to erotica for new model nomenclature. As one marketing specialist observed, "If we have had a streetcar named Desire for the past century, isn't it time to have a Citroen named the "French Kiss" or a Mercury named Missionary?"
Closing out this piece, I will end with where I started, names of housing developments. I used to live near a sleepy little Florida town named Windermere. After the nouveau (and in truth, the not so nouveau) riche found it, it was soon filled to overflowing and other areas nearby and some not so nearby hijacked the name. We now pass Windermere Wylde, Winderlakes Estates, Winwood (not Stevie), Windermere Downs, Winderwoods and others yet to be named. Likewise, Arnold Palmer could have little suspected that the christening of his "Bay Hill" development and Country Club would spawn Butler Bay, Bay Lakes, North Bay, South Bay, Bay Lagoon Bay Springs and others having one thing in common with the original - the absolute lack of a "Bay" of any sort. A real favorite is the word "acres" added to imply wide open spaces, while the lots in many of these are more like 1/8 of an acre. We have seen a cloudburst of add-ons to development names which bear no real world resemblance to the place they describe. "Downs" is the Celtic word for "Hill Fort", none of which exist anywhere anymore, least of all in the USA, but the name abounds. "Pointe" with the gratuitous "e" is just snooty and snotty. The name "Deer _____" is a favorite, as is "_____ Park," although most places with Deer in the name haven't seen any wild life since the trees were cut down to make way for houses, consequently no Park either! Then we have the "aristocratic" irrelevant made up names , which like the auto names sound good and signify nothing. A sampling would include Emerson Park Estates, Treviso, Brynley Park, Wyndham lakes, Calloway Bay, Millennia, Monterey Bay (no Monterrey, no Bay), Hunter's Run, etc. Another favorite tactic is the use of names implying exclusivity, the sole exclusion being money, of course. "Reserve" implies status, isolation from "them" and other monetary benefits. The Reserve at Berkshire Park is truly isolated from anything which could be legitimately named Berkshire; Shingle Creek Reserve likewise. Prairie Lakes Reserve is even more of an oddity, since the advertised price range of $129K to $139K hardly promises the exclusivity implied by the "reserve" cachet. Eventually, however, even the namers of housing developments will have to emulate the auto manufacturers and drug companies and find other sources for catchy names for mundane things like most of their cookie cutter homes. Again, physical descriptors might work. Would you be tempted to buy in "Nipple Notch", or perhaps" Luscious Lips Lagoon?" "Diverticulum Downs" has a ring, I think, or maybe "Outhouse Run?" "Fecundity Falls" - sounds like a good place for kids, huh? "Colon Corners?" - would you want to go there? My fave would probably be "The Grand Select Reserve at Serenity Place, Pointe, Park, Acres, Downs, Chase, Run, Hills, Woods, Grove Estates." The only problem is that addressing an envelope might be a bitch.
And I do believe that's all I have to say about that .
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