Tents Shall be Pitched


This morning I turned on the TV, flipped to VH1 and watched a video by a band named Morningwood.

I listened for a while, sort of enjoyed the sound, then thought about the name. Morningwood. Morning. Wood. Morn-ing-wood.

I’m slow, but it finally hit me—a rock band named after an AM erection!

I have nothing against rock bands, the morning or erections. But I think this is really poor sport. I looked up the lead singer, Chantal Claret. She’s 27, which means she was 18 when her group formed in 2001. This makes sense, because 18-year-old kids generally laugh at woody jokes. The problem, however, is that now we’re here, approaching 2010, and the band continues to be named after a hard-on. It’s very limiting. Would the Beatles have become the Beatles were they named, oh, Two Mountains of Flesh? Could the Stones have thrived as Camel Toe Delight? No, and no. Names mean something—even the names of rock bands.

So while I liked Morningwood’s sound and could certainly see downloading a song or two, it’s very unlikely I’ll accept any future offers to join them.

Besides, I’m too busy working on my next book—Salad Connoisseurs.