Ten minutes to write. Less time to read.

Okay, so I succumbed to one of the teases that AOL regularly throws at you when you log on to read your email. This one was a link to the “Baby Name of the Day.”

I am way past considering having more babies, but I did wonder what the name was. Such old-fashioned names as Mary, Elizabeth, or Anne have long given way to Tiffany, Brittany, and Daphne, as well as the colors of Amber, Violet, and Sienna. William, John, and James have been replaced with Hawk, Cleat, and Shad.

So what was the baby name of the day? I clicked on the link and it appeared: FLINT.

According to Pamela Redmond Satran and Linda Rosenkrantz, authors of Baby Names Now, “You can’t find a much tougher, steelier sounding name than this; macho to the max. Unfortunately, it also has over-the-top soap-opera-ish overtones.”

I’m not sure if ladies Satran and Rosenkrantz are serious, but let’s assume they are. Flint sounds steely all right, especially if you know its definition. Flint is a very hard stone used for striking fire. Farther down the small print of my Webster’s flint also means something hard and unyielding. Additionally, Flint is the name of a town in Michigan and the last name of a nineteenth century American physician.

I can think of several reasons, beyond dictionary entries, for not naming a child Flint. It’s harsh sounding, regardless of whether you coo the word in a newborn’s ear or are calling your five-year-old to come inside for dinner. It’s even harsh when the grown-up says, “I, Flint, take you Tiffany to be my lawfully wedded wife.”

Throughout Flint’s life, first teachers and then high school chums and ultimately business associates will ask where the name came from? And, if people live up to their names, Flint could be in for a difficult time.

There is a line in the poem “Maple” by Robert Frost that goes, “Name children some names and see what you do.” I advise anyone who plans on having a baby named Flint to read this poem first.