THE glaring omission from my column on apt and inapt surnames, as umpteen readers have pointed out, was the venerable Sligo law firm Argue & Phibbs, writes Frank McNally
I believe the nameplate still stands on the offices opposite Sligo Courthouse, long after W.H. Argue (one of the Cavan Argues, apparently) and Talbot Phibbs, son of a local landlord, resigned their earthly briefs in the first half of the last century.
There's a story that, in the 1920s, the partnership considered hiring a third solicitor: an Englishman called "Cheetam". Or even that they did hire him, and decided not to add his name to the letterheads. But this may be mere mischief.
Whatever about lawyers, scientists have no such reluctance. Where a funny name combination already exists, they cannot resist the temptation to embellish it. Take George Gamow and Ralph Alpher, who in the 1940s wrote a paper on the Big Bang and cosmic radiation.
They did all the work themselves, but later insisted on a gratuitous authorship credit for a physicist friend, Hans Bethe. Why? So they could make a joke about how the paper was written by "Alpha, Beta, and Gamma".
In a similar vein, there was something missing from a more recent study (on ecology), by two scientists - an American, T.L. Vincent, and an Australian, B.S. Goh. The problem was solved via a visitor to Vincent's Arizona university, a Korean called M.V. Van. He was duly press-ganged, and the work thereby became a "Vincent Van Goh" production - although whether it was a work of art is doubtful.
I don't know if the infamous Messrs Splatt and Weedon, whose paper on incontinence set off a debate about aptronyms in the New Scientist, are seeking a third partner for future work. But I'm informed there is a urologist in Limerick's regional hospital called "Flood". I recommend him highly.
Changing professions, I have to thank reader Michael Power from reminding me about a US lawyer by the name of "Ira H. Block". He was a New York attorney during the 1970s and 80s; and if, as Michael remembers, he was once involved in an extradition case featuring an Irish republican, this would put him on the shortlist for greatest aptronym (or inaptronym, depending which side he represented) of all time. Sadly, I haven't been able to find the case in the archives.
Another interesting name from the 1980s is Bill Sex, a man who played midfield for the Kildare Senior Football Team. Again, while unusual, the name is not necessarily apt or inapt in itself. But having Sex in the middle of the park, as Kildare frequently did back then, is the sort of thing that can be frowned upon in traditional GAA circles.
I used to think that former White House spokesman Larry Speakes had the most apt name in his profession (by contrast with Al Gore's unfortunate former spokesman, Matt Gobush). Then I was reminded of the man who did the talking for the notorious Khmer Rouge in the 1970s, a colonel with the wonderful name of Am Rong. If in nothing else, he was right there.
The Orient is a rich source for this kind of thing. My illustrious colleague Martyn Turner tells me that, as an old hippy, he regards the Whole Earth Catalogueas his "bible". Even so, he wonders about its wisdom in recommending made-to-measure footwear from the "Lee Kee Boot" company in Hong Kong.
Elsewhere in the world, we find a former British neurologist called Henry Head; a director of the psychology programme at Texas Women's University, Roberta L, Nutt; a New York anger management specialist, Dr Richard Madden; a Washington opthalmologist, Kevin Blinder, a dentist in Virginia, Anthony J. Puller, and the author of a book entitled The Philosophy of Risk, John C. Chicken.
Closer to home, I'm informed by reader Tim Jackson that there are vans driving around Dublin with the name "Lawless Security Solutions". It's a thought-provoking concept; and one that would surely be appreciated by the head of security at Sheffield University, Brian Mole.
I'm not sure if "Life" is a surname anywhere. "Lifer" certainly is (there may even be a few of them in prison). And so is "Death", or at least "D'eath". Rory Gallagher's drummer, I remember, was a man called Rod D'ath: another variant.
I also found the name while looking up Argue & Phibbs in the Irish Times archive. It featured in - of all things - An Irishman's Diary from 1975, when the regular incumbent was a man called Quidnunc. And what was he writing about? Yes, amusingly apt names: to wit the aforementioned Sligo solicitors and a butcher somewhere called "D'eath".
The column provoked a letter from A.C. Horsman in Co Tipperary, which I quote in full: "Dear Sir, if D'Eath is a good name for a butcher and Argue & Phibbs sound for attorneys, how can Quidnunc be so blind as to miss A.J. Liebling for a journalist? Or are journalists human and unable to laugh at themselves?" The reference, presumably, was to A.J. Liebling of the New Yorker. But I suggest there are two problems with this as an aptronym. First, the pronunciation, which is "Leebling" rather than "Libelling". Second, the subject matter: I'm afraid libel is something about which we in newspapers simply never joke.
So, in case the diarist did not respond to A.C. Horsman at the time, I hereby do - 33 years later - by quoting Yeats: "Cast a cold eye on Life(r), on D'Eath. Horsman pass by."
fmcnally@irish-times.ie