Why not just plain, old "98-7?" That way at least we would remember the year. Of course, it used to be that we only gave these disasters of nature feminine names, but in the interest of equality and political correctness, male names are now mandatory. In fact, people from all over the world actually sit down each year and pick these names well in advance. Imagine the final briefing session of the Section, Hurricane Information Taxonomy (what are those letters, again?):

"What's this, 'Evelyn' for no. 5? You can't use that one - that's my girlfriend's name; my wife would kill me!!"

Or, "Vernon? I don't think they would like that one in Washington."

Of course, it always struck me as odd that we restrict this activity to such a limited usage. Why not name everything? I mean, the airlines used to do that. You flew "Jessica" or "Arlene," not "10473N." Imagine if you had to name your car, passenger trains, airplanes. Even public venues like restaurants, banks, theaters. If we did, scenarios like the following might be commonplace: [Note: with so many things to name, first AND last names would be required. However, in the spirit of brevity, only first names will be used in the examples.]

"Bill," an upscale sedan with out of state license plates, collides with "Monica," a cute little sports car from the District, on the Beltway. When questioned later, both deny any contact took place.

On your next business trip to the West Coast, you fly "Pamela" to Dallas, then switch planes to "Tommy" for the final leg. You wonder why you feel an uncontrolled urge to watch endless reruns of "Baywatch" the whole week, interrupted only by an inexplicable trip to the tatoo parlor across the street from the hotel.

Or, you take the "Mark" Metroliner to New York, returning on the "Sammy" back to Washington. As you step onto the platform, you wonder why someone is trying to sell you that baseball for $10,000.

Of course, going to dinner will be a snap. You can have drinks at "Dean's," head out for hot dogs at "Nathan's" (wasn't that one taken already?), or do steaks at "Morton's" (hmmm...that sounds familiar, too). But what if your son comes home after a date and says that he ate out at "Cindy's" with "Jennifer," should you be happy for him or wash his mouth out with soap?

I mean, we could really get into this-name our houses, furniture, our swimming pools, etc. You finish dinner, looking forward to laying back on your favorite recliner. You tell your wife: "Honey, I'm going to stretch out on "Michelle" and watch that "Batman" movie.

"Oh, no, you don't," she shouts. " You promised me I could curl up on "Mel" and watch "Braveheart!"

What if we named our subways, too? And "Strom" rode "Newt" to work, but got stuck in a tunnel underneath "Alfonse," a 10-story granite facade in Southeaast? Would we read in the Post the next day: "Strom" Stuck in "Alfonse" While Riding "Newt."

Finally, what if we named our countries the same way? Imagine a key United Nations vote. The future of democracy hangs in the balance. Before the fateful roll call, a lot of behind the scenes maneuvering has been taking place. "Linda," a large socialist regime from the North has been tapping the phones of the "Monican" Consulat, an upstart nation that relies on the tourist trade for its economy. Meanwhile, "Kenneth," an ancient oligarchy, steeped in anachronistic laws, has secretly detained the "Monican" representative at an upscale hotel, hoping to influence her vote. Unbeknownst to all, "William" has showered "Monica" with gifts, but "Betty," a small, but powerful Third World protectorate, has absconded with the gifts. As the historical day approaches, the Times breaks the story to a shocked world:

"Secret Deal Revealed. Linda Exposed. Treaty Signed by Betty, Monica and William Angers Kenneth. Nations Deadlocked on Definition of Terms."