ninanevermore | Tuesday - A Tale of Two Dakotas

Today on my drive into work, I was thinking about the two Dakotas. I'm not talking about the states in the northern part of the United States, North Dakota and South Dakota. I am talking about the sons of my cousin, Allen Jones,* born 3 months apart to different mothers, and both named Dakota. Sometimes these things just happen when kids are born to redneck parents.

First, let me start off by defending my cousin and his kind. Rednecks get a lot of ridicule and some people think that the world would be better off if they didn't exist. I, however, will proudly stand up and say, "Thank God for Rednecks!" The world is a more entertaining place with them in it, as this story will illustrate. I am also thankful because there is no greater blessing a storyteller can have than be born into a family full of rednecks.

When Allen was in his early 20's he had some wild oats to sow, and he spend all of his time doing just that. During this sowing one of the oats took root and he got a girl pregnant. The relationship was a rocky one, though, and while the young woman was still in her first trimester they parted ways and she announced she would have nothing further to do with him. Their relationship lasted just long enough for the two of them to agree to name their baby Dakota.

Being young and on the prowl, it wasn't long before both Allen and his former girlfriend each hooked up with new people. She set up house with a man with the last name of Green. Remember that name. It's important to the punchline of this story.

In the meantime, Allen found another redneck girl with morals no better than her judgment and managed to get her pregnant, as well. He and his new girlfriend, who quickly became his wife, discussed names for the baby and found that they really liked the name Dakota. Allen's ex told him that Mr. Green would be listed as the father on her baby's birth certificate, and that Allen would not be allowed to see her child. Allen therefore assumed he might as well give the name he liked so much to the son whose mother was still talking to him.

A few months later, two Dakotas came into the world: Dakota Green and Dakota Jones. If Dakota Green's mother had not had a change of heart, I would still have two first-cousins-once-removed named Dakota. However, she did have a change of heart and made up her mind that little Dakota Green should be allowed to know his real father and his almost-twin half-brother. This led everyone involved to conclude that having two brothers with the same first name might be confusing. As fun as it would be to hear Allen tell people, "This is my son, Dakota, and my other son, Dakota," it was decided that one Dakota ought to be named something else.

Dakota Green's mother volunteered that since Allen kind of had dibs on the name Dakota, the son he named Dakota should keep it and she would change her son's name, instead. Just his first name, though. She and Mr. Green had settled in together and Mr. Green loved the little boy, so he would keep the last name he already had. After much consideration, she changed her son's name to Hunter - Hunter Green.

I don't have a problem with this, since hunter green has always been one of my favorite colors. When I told my husband about this, though, he scowled and clenched his teeth. Jeff has a low opinion of people who give their children names that are cutesy or funny. Upon hearing this news, just like the times I told him about the guy I went to high school with named Rusty Nail and the girl I met in college named Candy Machine,** Jeff groaned rather than laughed.

"I hope he grow up and shoots both his parents," he said.

"Don't you mean all three of them?"

"You're right. My mistake. I hope he kills them all when he's old enough to realize what jackasses they are."

I defended my cousin and his ex by pointing out that I didn't think either of them was trying to be cute. They were just really clueless. They aren't the type to differentiate between shades of green, beyond the terminology of "light" and "dark."

Jeff was unrelenting. "He should shoot them, anyway."

I find Jeff's reaction is a little harsh. I've met my colorfully-named cousin, who is now about 10, and he seems like a fairly well-adjusted boy. I like that his hair is bright red, which means that his namesake color would look good on him. For that matter, Rusty Nail, Candy Machine, Crystal Harte, and every other cutely-named person I've ever known has turned out all right, despite their parents' cluelessness or odd senses of humor. I don't think murder is called for, though each one of them is entitled to a long discussion with his or her parents that they being with the question, "What the hell were you thinking, anyway?"

As for young Dakota Green, I never thought his name needed changing in the first place. If I had been Allen, I would have solved the problem simply by referring to one boy as North, and the other as South. If the Untied States of America is big enough to have two Dakotas in it, surely his family is, too.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ # ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

*Not his real name. The Dakotas, however, are/were really named Dakota. The story wouldn't work if I called them something else.

** Actually Candace Barbara Machine, as in "Candy Bar. Machine." She only went by Candy.

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