Last summer I shared with you my sudden conversion to becoming a Minnesota “lake person,” thanks to a new pontoon in our family. I’m relieved to report that my husband and I are still married, despite some spicy arguments we’ve shared at the public boat launch.
But one thing that we still haven’t done is give our boat a name.
On a recent trip to Florida, we and our two young sons strolled along a marina to check out the moniker of every yacht and sailboat, admiring the originality and wit that went into each name. Just Driftin’ was one we thought about stealing. We’ve since daydreamed about other names, something clever or meaningful, seafaring or sentimental.
There’s Jesse’s Girl, a nod to my husband’s first name and the conventional wisdom that boats should be female. But he’s always detested that Rick Springfield song, so that was a hard pass.
Another contender was Drunken Monkey, which is our nickname for our 11-year-old because of his loose-limbed, unpredictable gait while playing soccer.
The kids gravitated toward puns: Fruit of the Loon and Keepin’ It Reel were among their lake-loving suggestions.
Why Go Home, a Pearl Jam song chorus, seemed like an apt mantra for staying on the water just a little longer. (Never mind that the tune is actually about a girl unjustly put in a mental institution.)
Nothing stuck.
