Caught in the Middle

Caught in the Middle
by Jean Carnahan

            Middle names were once relegated to diplomas, passports, and other formal documents.  Perhaps that was all for the better, because the second name was often strange and given to a child as an afterthought to pacify some wing of the family.  Middle names remind us of the verse about the “cow that kicked Nellie in the belly in the barn . . . didn’t do her any good, didn’t do her any harm.”

            Barrack Hussein Obama might dispute the old rhyme.  His parent’s choice of a middle name is now being treated as a handicap to his presidential bid.

Undoubtedly, the Obamas wanted to bestow upon their son a highly regarded middle name to reflect his mixed heritage.  They had no way of knowing that an evil tyrant named Saddam would later besmirch the Hussein name. 

So, Sen. Obama must endure the consequences of his family’s labeling. It’s the one thing he had nothing to do with and can’t do anything about.  That, of course, is what makes it so appealing to right-wing pundits to criticize.

             All the furor caused me to contemplate my own name and how I might

defend it.  My middle name is Anne, a name that has recently been defamed

by Anne Coulter.  Had I known I would be involved in politics, I might have

preferred Hillary or Nancy or Condolezza (well, maybe not Condolezza).

 Anne is a perfectly respectable name in most countries and has been for centuries.  Britain was once ruled by Queen Anne and Queen Elizabeth II named her daughter Princess Anne.  Not only did Henry VIII have two wives named Anne, but St. Anne was the mother of the Virgin Mary.  I do hope Coulter does not damage the name beyond usage or respect.

During my naming, my mother was thinking only of the present.   So, I was named for two current figures in the Screen magazine that she was reading in the hospital:  Jean Harlow, the blonde bombshell—a reputation that I would never live up to—and Anne, for Anne Lindberg, the writer and wife of Charles Lindberg.  They were popular names of the Thirties.  Today my mother might have preferred Brittany, or Destiny, or Trinity.

We take enough hits in life for our faults and failings.  It’s sad to see someone tormented unjustly for a matter over which they have no control. 

But, perhaps there is some consolation for Sen. Obama.  I would remind him that Adolphe Menjou; the actor; Adolph Coors, the brewer; and Adolph Gottlieb, the expressionist painter, achieved considerable success in spite of having to bear a discredited moniker.