Whole Town Joins In Effort To Name That Baby
PROVINCETOWN, Mass. (AP) _ Rambo would be topical, said one. Rupert, said another. Ziggy was a third suggestion in a name-the-baby contest that kept this seaside town’s residents busy for six months while a smiling, blond infant grew anonymously older.
″It sort of got to be a town joke,″ the boy’s father, Kim Rilleau, said Tuesday. ″But you would be surprised how many people put energy into this. A day wouldn’t go by when people wouldn’t give us ideas.″
When the Rilleaus finally decided on a name last week, they hired a plane to skywrite the news over Provincetown as residents cheered.
The baby’s first name is Guy (″pronounced Guy as in geese. It’s French,″ said Rilleau.)
For a middle name the couple chose Tryon, Rilleau’s mother’s maiden name.
″I think the name fits his vibrations,″ said Rilleau. ″He’s small, compact and muscular, but he also has a certain wiliness about him.″
The name ‘Guy’ was suggested by tourists who Rilleau, a part-time waiter, met at a waterfront restaurant. He also runs a leather shop in the town of 2,900 people.
When Guy was born in January, Rilleau and his wife, Lynne, were in no rush to name him. They had waited six weeks to name their 2-year-old daughter, Elena, and Rilleau’s parents had waited seven weeks to name him.
″I guess it’s sort of typical of my family - anti-establishment,″ he said. ″I think it’s real important to give a kid a name that fits his personality. Although I guess part of it was procrastination.″
After five months of indecision, the Rilleaus turned to the local weekly newspaper, The Advocate, for help and agreed to take part in a ″name this baby contest.″
Dozens of suggestions poured in for three weeks: Besides Rambo, Rupert and Ziggy, there were Jericho, Gore, Brillo, Lynke....
″I would like to give my name to the baby because I don’t want it anymore. It is a good name,″ wrote Tori Rowe. ″It’s easy to spell and write. People remember it. It’s also easy to pronounce.″
Tourists who learned about the contest while in Provincetown called with suggestions from as far away as Australia.
The Rilleaus were appreciative but not satisfied, and halfway through the contest, they decided to give the boy one of their own choices - Remy.
″It looked like it was going to stick for a little while there,″ said Rilleau ″then, ugh, we decided we didn’t like the alliteration.″
The Rilleaus set a deadline of July 18 - the baby would be six months old by then - but couldn’t meet it. Two days later, a group of tourists recognized Rilleau from the newspaper and promised him a name by the end of the night.
″A couple of hours later they said, ’We have it - the name for your son - it’s Guy,‴ recalled Rilleau. ″I was so used to saying, ‘Thank you, we’ll consider it,’ that’s just what I said.
″But the next day I mentioned it to Lynne, and we decided that was it.″
Guy seemed oblivious to the breakthrough.
″Before he had a name, we got away calling him ‘he’ a lot of the time,″ said Rilleau. ″Or all sorts of names - Champ, Buster, Buddy, Hercules, Baby. My sister really wanted us to name him Sam, so she called him Sam. We tried out names on different days. Charlie. Max. Whatever.″
The Rilleaus said they had hoped Guy’s crankiness would dissappear when he got a name, but he seemed unchanged. ″I thought maybe his stubbornness was his way of telling us he wanted a handle - but, no.″