Name That Lane, Part II
In my previous post, I described the process by which I was able to name a lane in West Virginia. The resulting name, “Sleepy Look Lane,” was a compromise chosen from a lengthy list of possibilities, from bland to bizarre. The clerk responsible for such things finally said yes to the name. And we thought that was the end of it. Not so.
Turns out that to formalize the name, said clerk must visit the property to determine—in her sole judgment—whether the name “rings true” to the surrounding countryside, which is a poster child for mountain scenery, specifically a view of Sleepy Creek Mountain.
Well, said clerk thought the name didn’t fit. “If it doesn’t fit, you must resubmit.”
So we pulled out our long list and added thirty more possibilities before calling the clerk back to discuss the name. On the sixteenth try, the clerk accepted a name: “Silver Squirrel Lane.” And there you have it.
So far.
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About Len
Born in a hospital that has since been torn down, grew up on a street that has since changed its name, in a house that has since changed its number. Everywhere around me my life seems to be erasing itself. Before the eraser finishes its work, however, I spend...