What's in a name?

Samson had a Halloween parade on Friday at the little gym he goes to, and I got to go and witness 30 or so kids ranging in age from 1 to 3 in their costumes wandering around a padded room with trampolines and uneven bars. It was total chaos, right down to "The Monster Mash" playing in the background.

Actually, it was terrific; the staff were great with the kids, and most of the parents seemed pretty in tune with what their kids were doing and where they were --- always a big concern for me since Samson is usually one of the only nonwalkers at events like these.

As we made our way around the gym and Samson generally got to climb everything in sight, he got stepped on by a kid wearing a Monster's Inc. costume. He wasn't hurt; in fact, I'm not sure he even noticed, but I heard the kid's mom say, "Be careful, Kyle; watch out for the baby."

Of course, Samson is practically hyperthermic in his little lion costume from all the climbing, and he's smiling up at Kyle the baby stomper, who is standing, unrepentant, watching me to see if he should step around Sam or on him.

I picked Samson up and ended the suspense. The goodness and trust in that little smile is enough to break your heart.

But it also got me thinking. I've only known a few Kyles in my life, and their track record is uniformly unimpressive. When I was three, Kyle who lived down the block used to put dog poo on a stick and chase all the neighborhood kids threatening "Cocky!" I still hate that word, even when it's used appropriately (i.e., adjectivally) and not in stick-wielding poo context.

In junior high, there was a Kyle who had seen Fast Times and had some kind of Saul on the road to Damascus moment. Almost overnight, he went from a pretty unremarkable kid who blended in with the rest of the eighth grade to a Jeff Spicoli mini-me. Had we grown up in Venice (that's Dogtown to you, Kyle), that might have been an almost inevitable transition. But on Long Island?

And while the whole thing can't be blamed on him, Kyle MacLachlan certainly didn't do much to help keep Dune from being simultaneously bad and incomprehensible. He's also got "The Flintstones" and "Showgirls" on his resume. I rest my case.

Now I know someone out there knows a Kyle who is cool. But this Kyle is different you'll say; he's a good guy.

To which I say, good for you: Start an I love Kyle blog.

But my theory stands. Unless some guy named Kyle comes up and steps on it, smears it with dog poo, calls me "bud," and then kills some Harkonnens using only his mind.

Then it's a fact.