Lessons From the Santa Train

I love it when someone's intense love for something leads to blindness of common sense.  Like the naming of children.  When you and your partner are making this decision, there is a tremendous amount of stress.  ...Do we give the baby a family name? Unique but not too weird... Do the initials spell ASS?  There are incredible implications associated with the success of a name choice.   Unfortunately, the love you have for this unborn baby leads to some dramatic mistakes.  I happen to know that there are real people with some of the following names...

Mike Hunt.       John Arhea.       Lotta Cox.

Fortunately, there is a website that can make your choices easier.  I suggest that as you pre-parents are mulling over the names of your future sweet bundle, mosey on over to that site before you make the final decision.  Or don't, and make my world a little funnier.

There are other cases of love that cause common sense blindness.  The best is when the love is for a hobby or inanimate objects.  Like trains.  You probably know a grown man that has an affinity for trains. I've not been able to find a psychological term for the obsession with trains, so I'm going to call this disorder 'agmenmania.' (Agmen is Latin for train, at least that's what the interweb told me.) This past weekend I took my kids to ride a Santa Train, and we were surrounded by agmenmaniacs.   One of these beautifully flawed people left us with this gem...

On the back of a train car.

It must mean something in trainspeak, because I got yelled at for laughing at this perfectly normal train sign.

If there are more signs like this, I just might develop into a budding agmenmaniac.