The Annals, Entry II - Let the "Names" Begin

Know thyself. Avoid extremes.

The Oracle of Delphi

During our brief engagement, we participated in a premarital counseling course. Before embarking on this activity, we did not really know what it was and were sure it would do us no good, but it was a requirement for the church rental. What harm could it do anyway? In the conflict resolution section (which, of course, we believed we would never need) the good advice given was that, in marriage, there are numerous ways to conclude conflict. In brief:

1. Someone cedes the point (i.e., one party caves)
2. Both parties talk it out and find a sensible solution (insert barfing sounds)
3. Both parties compromise and meet some where in the middle

We are both too stubborn for the first to ever work. We can stare at each other for days looking for signs of weakness (umm, not that we do that or anything…). We are not idealistic enough nor do we have sufficient time for the second, so we usually end up embracing option number three. Our counselors never called it a "solution," but let's talk reality here.

In our house, the arrangement is as follows. Hypothetically, we want to see a movie together (the fact that we only occasionally have time or money to do this is somewhat irrelevant to the case at hand). It is a well-known fact that while we immensely enjoy our time alone together, we do not share similar tastes in Hollywood fare. In an unfortunate case of typical stereotypes, Karl generally avoids pink and fluff romance stories with plots so predictable they shame Harlequin novels while Andrea prefers that explosions and gunshots contribute to a general plotline rather than compose it and appreciates bass that stops short of measuring on the rector scale. At the outset, we know that some agreement will be reached, but giving up too much too soon can be devastating (once, in a moment of weakness, Karl found himself waking up in the middle of a Disney compilation called "Enchanted"…point made).

So, we square off in our corners and the dance begins. Karl starts things off by throwing out the latest testosterone killer so Andrea is forced to counter with some princess epic with unicorns. A little fancy footwork and Karl confidently moves into the genre of thrillers with Andrea strategically shifting to drama. A couple more fine-tuned maneuvers on both sides (in addition to general fatigue) and we settle on a dramatic-action or actiony-drama (to be balanced). This is how the game is played, we honour the rules, and we've honed each other's skills.

Back to names. When contemplating future offspring, Karl suggests highly "unique" names and Andrea counters with very popular and more culturally normative ones. At each step, we continually size each other up, testing the level of exaggeration and seriousness of the other's request to determine how extreme the response needs to be in search of balance. In our case, the outcome of the name duel seems to indicate Karl's slight victory but only after all rounds had been fairly fought and, well, with Andrea in labor, it was difficult for her to keep up the stamina (cheap on Karl's part, but really, she should have seen it coming).

Regardless, perhaps we should all listen to the Oracle. While each of us is extreme in our own way, our "fight" together leads to balance. Thus, we don't have a Bob or Dave (not to offend any of our fantastic Bob & Dave friends…Hi Dad!!) and we don't have Hannibal (not to offend…never mind…) but something in the middle: Quintus, which is nicely shortened to Quinn and Lucian, which can easily become Luc. Admittedly, their middle names are Maximus and Magnus, but this had more to do with birth weights than Rome.

Stay tuned next time to hear the Oracle of Delphi say..."eh".