I was in the car today when it occurred to me that there are way fewer people named Elvis than one would really expect. I didn’t grow up in an Elvis-based culture, so maybe I’m missing something, maybe it is considered a kind of sacrilege in Elvis cultures. After all, anglos don’t name their kids Jesus, generally, but it’s perfectly acceptable culturally for Latinos to name their kids Jesus. So, for all I know there may be, like, ten thousand Canadian Elvises.
Anyway, I was taking this idea out to its logical extreme, imagining some preshcool teacher seeing her class list for the first time over the summer, and rolling her eyes as she got to:
Flax, Elvis P.
(Because, of course, this is something I would do, which is another solid argument against procreation on my part. I can imagine me saying, “Hey Scott, how about Elvis?” and him saying “Really? That’s weird. Ok.” I mean, if we had gotten Max a little earlier in his life, we would have a dog named Herbert Hoover.)
SO, as I continued this trajectory of more people naming their kids Elvis now, I realized that it would significantly increase the odds that in about forty-five or fifty years we would have a President Elvis, and that would be AWESOME.
