Meet Rick Crapster.
Some of you know him as Raoul.
In his nearly 16 years of life, he's had multiple short-lived stints answering to Milo, Nacho, Long John, Tinbit, Lorelai, Boy, The Boy, Boyish, McBoy and Senor Pussypants.*
And when I say answering, I don't mean that he actually acknowledges any of those names. There are a lot of vacant stares when we talk at him.
His given name, Raoul, was selected during the peak of my own play time of Tears for Fears' fifth CD, "Raoul and the Kings of Spain."
He practices saying his own name, usually after we've all gone to bed, while he paces the long hallway to take a few bites of food before joining us in our bedroom.
"Raaahh-ooooohewl. Raaaahhh-ooohewl," he croons.
But now, he is Rick Crapster.
I didn't create Rick Crapster. I'm not that talented. I did, however, immediately following a harrowing aqua jogging experience yesterday, return home to soothe my soul by devouring what was left of my secret chocolate stash and watching some Dog the Bounty Hunter before I had to get the kids from school.
I can't do the Rick Crapster episode justice. I strongly encourage you to Netflix it (Season 8, Episode 2: Trouble in Paradise). Without totally spoiling it, there is a delightful surprise with an ATV, the consumption of PEZ, Beth talking smack with the crudest woman ever and Leland taking someone (Rick Crapster, actually) out.** It's bounty hunting, Chapman-style, at its finest.
After 45 minutes of the Chapman's talking about Rick Crapster, I couldn't help but to rename The Boy. I texted Husband to let him know of the change.
"I sense a story," was Husband's response.
The success of a name change is repetition.*** We can't just announce: "We're calling him Ricky Crapster, now," and assume that it will stick. We have to pose questions and answers using the new name. We need to create songs. It's not a bad idea to even start creating new nicknames (the Spin-off) based on the newest name we're trying to commit to. It is also good to get Buy-In from outsiders. For example:
- "Daddy, did you say hello to Rick Crapster yet? Say hello to Rick Crapster, Daddy. Give Rick Crapster some Daddy love. Rick Crapster needs Daddy love."
- "Is Rick Crapster hungry? Does Rick Crapster want to eat? Poor Rick Crapster. He so hungry that big, bad Rick Crapster. What does Rick Crapster want to eat? Food? Does Rick Crapster want some food?"
- "Has anyone fed Rick Crapster? Who is feeding Rick Crapster? Has Rick Crapster eaten yet?"
- "Does Rick Crapster have a plan for today? Who knows what Rick Crapster is planning for today? What's on Rick Crapster's agenda?"
I'm going to take a napster
With Little Ricky Crapster...
Rick Crapster ... Ricky Crapster ... Ricky Bobby (See? That was Daughter's Genius. She got us from Dog to Talledega Nights in one turn!)
Outsider Buy In:
A friend is working on a mascot and logo for an organization she works for and was soliciting some Facebook feedback on her preliminary designs. All of my suggestions for her included Rick Crapster. And then I liked all of my own comments.
Rick Crapster for Mascot.
I'm sure a lot of her Facebook friends are wondering, "Who the fuck is Rick Crapster?". And
those that ask, force her to explain Rick Crapster. She might even respond, "Rick Crapster is the newest name of my friend's cat. His name is Rick Crapster. You can call him Rick Crapster."
Suddenly, everyone is talking about Rick Crapster.
Currently, Rick Crapster is curled up on his little pillow near the radiator. Rick Crapster looks comfy. After this post, and at least 40 minutes of knitting, I think I'll get Rick Crapster and snuggle with him on the couch.
I think Rick Crapster would like that.
Rick Crapster. It's the name you wish you would have given to your cat, too.
But you didn't.
*Senor Pussypants has a theme song.
A Pussy here,
and a Pussy there.
*** We've never actually had success. I'm just guessing ...