OK, let me make one thing perfectly clear: Frank Zappa is one of the most influential artists in music history. He seamlessly blended an unheard of variety of influences into his one, singular approach that still resonates over three decades after his death. Without a doubt, he’s my favorite musician of all time. I celebrate his entire catalog and even have a tattoo of his signature moustache on my right forearm. With all that being said, I want to be clear: my fandom had absolutely nothing to do with me naming my son Dweezil.
When my wife Mallory and I found out we were pregnant, we were ecstatic. I couldn’t wait to have a son or daughter to raise and impart my wisdom to, and I thought nothing of my favorite singer/songwriter while combing through baby books for potential names. To be completely honest, I knew nothing of Zappa’s personal life when I suggested the name “Dweezil” to Mallory. I had thought of it on my own, completely irrespective of my taste in music, and you can’t prove me wrong.
Also, do you know what we were going to name our baby if it was a girl? No, not Moon or Diva. We were going to name her Emily, after my dearly departed aunt, which further proves that my basement shrine to rock music’s wittiest and most prolific mind was certainly no indicator of my baby-naming preferences, and honestly, I’m a little insulted that you think there’s a correlation. Also, my wife insisted on “Emily,” and wouldn’t countenance either of the aforementioned names that may or may not have been suggested during her pregnancy.
Look, I just think “Dweezil” is a great name, and that opinion is mutually exclusive from my musical tastes, OK? Why is that so difficult for you to believe? I’m a huge Bob Dylan fan, too, but you don’t see me considering “Jakob” as a name for any potential second son, do you?
OK, I actually am considering that, but it’s honestly just a coincidence.
You know what? You can go ahead and believe whatever you want. I’m confident that my son’s name is the result of a completely independent and original choice that’s completely unrelated to the oversized backdrop of the “Hot Rats” album cover currently papering his bedroom wall. Now if you’ll excuse me, it’s time for Dweezil’s nightly listening of “Muffin Man” before his feeding. He gets cranky if I keep him waiting.
