Camden and Trenton, Too!

What Posh and Becks hath wrought . . . parents naming their children “Brooklyn”:

An astounding 3,211 kiddies were named for Kings County in 2004, making it the 101st most popular name in the country.

“We thought it was pretty,” said nursing aide Lynn Wattier, who lives in O’Neill, Neb., population 3,733.

She named her daughter Brooklyn, even though she’s never visited the borough.

“My husband was afraid when she got older people would ask, ‘You got named after a bridge?’ But we didn’t care. We like it anyway,” Wattier said.

Amazingly, improbably, the name “Brooklyn” was the eighth most popular name in baby-lush Utah (and Utah has a higher birth rate than Bangladesh!):

The Social Security Administration compiles the top baby names every year. In Utah, Brooklyn hit No. 8 on the charts, beating out Elizabeth, Sarah and Ashley. In Ohio, 203 baby girls were named Brooklyn.

Although David and Victoria Beckham named their Brooklyn after the borough in which she was conceived (Where? Bay Ridge? East New York?), most who name their children after the country’s fourth largest city have never visited and indeed just like the way the name sounds:

“Some people may be naming their kids Brooklyn because they love the place,” said baby name expert Pam Satran, who wrote “Cool Names.”

“But Camden and Trenton are really popular names, and I don’t think too many people are doing that because they love the place,” she said. “People just like the way it sounds.” Denny and Pamela Barton of Des Moines were ahead of the trend when they named their daughter Brooklyn 16 years ago.

“We read in a magazine that Donna Summer had named her daughter Brook Lyn,” Pamela said. “Teachers always tried to shorten it. She always had to say, ‘Don’t call me Brook.'”

Some parents prefer a more genteel “Brooklynn” – which ranked as the 346th most popular name last year, with 910 baby Brooklynn girls.

“It’s a great name,” beamed Brooklyn Borough President Marty Markowitz. “It’s a classy name.”

Camden and Trenton, too! Teaneck can’t be far behind . . .

Ironic Roller Derby?

As if trying to discern the irony level associated with guns and steak wasn’t already diffcult enough, now we hear that roller derby is enjoying a renaissance:

And there are signs that the sport is moving from localized hobby to national pastime. In August Las Vegas will play host to Rollercon, the first roller derby convention; in January the A&E Network, banking on the appeal of tough and toned women in skimpy outfits, will begin showing “Roller Girls,” a 13-episode reality show. “The dramatic part is, they go and act out their therapy on the rink, which makes for good TV,” said Nancy Dubuc, a senior vice president of programming at A&E Network and the executive producer of the show.

The Web site for the Gotham Girls Roller Derby league (www.gothamgirlsrollerderby.com) describes each player as “an amalgam of athlete, pinup girl, rocker and brute,” and derby girls are hardly typical jocks. Their uniforms are more Victoria’s Secret than Nike, and many members of the league say the derby is the first organized sport they have ever joined.

What should be scary for New Yorkers — the cultural elite — is that no one participating seems to consider it good old ironic fun, rather, this is serious stuff:

More than 500 rockabilly fans, skateboarders, stylish girls in leg warmers and a reporter from German Playboy braved the rain on April Fool’s Day, paying $12 each to watch the Mayhem and the Bombshells in the opening bout of the season, which runs to October.

Headline: Wellbutrin Has Yet To Make Inroads in Laredo

A study published in the medical journal Men’s Health Magazine says that New Yorkers are more depressed than Laredoans:

Is New York bumming you out?

Then true happiness awaits in the glittering Texas boom towns of Laredo and El Paso – and even across the Hudson in Jersey City.

A new study by Men’s Health magazine ranks New York among the most depressed cities in the country, while places like Des Moines, Fresno, Calif., and Buffalo – yes, even Buffalo – rate as hotbeds of happiness.

“No way! Are you crazy?” said An Ferree, 30, of Brooklyn. “I wouldn’t want to live anywhere else in the world.”

The study graded cities on sales of antidepressants, suicide rates and the numbers of days residents reported being depressed. So, Laredo got an A+ and New York scored a D-.

New Yorkers reacted with typical defensiveness, helping to prove the study’s findings:

New Yorkers angrily came to the Big Apple’s defense, saying the city’s cultural and culinary offerings keep them very happy.

“It’s the most vital f—— city in the world,” said Al Gordon, 78, of Manhattan. “I’ve been in Paris, I’ve been in Rome, I’ve been in England and this is it.”

Sara Lowman – a selfproclaimed “very happy person” – was miffed that New York was outranked by cities that don’t quite stack up in size, prestige or pothole width.

“I don’t have any interest in going to those places,” said Lowman, 26. “But good for those cities, since they must have so many happy people.”

Still, she said she was in no hurry to swap New York for New Jersey – no matter how happy the move might eventually make her.

“As tempting as it may sound, no,” she said, smiling. “I think I’ll stay here.”

Let’s see: misplaced rage and delusion (“It’s the most vital f—— city in the world”), self-deprecation (pothole width apologies), sarcasm (“But good for those cities, since they must have so many happy people”) and an irrational fear of what lay waiting if one is banished from the promised land (New Jersey). It all sounds like a recipe for depression to me! But all is not lost: Philadelphia and Cleveland rank worse.

UWS Bitchiness

The Times’ Jennifer Steinhauer presents a sort of monograph of one of the bitchiest neighborhoods in the city — “Sometimes, the West Side Is Just Plain Grouchy”:

The Upper West Side, like all New York neighborhoods, moves to its own rhythms, fueled in large part by population density, acute parenting, entitlement and retail. Some weeks, you feel there is something in the air, a pinched intensity pushing everyone within a 20-block radius just an inch off the platform of reasonable behavior.

On Monday, on Broadway near 90th Street, a mother in low-rise jeans stood waiting for the light lecturing her son, who appeared to be about 5 years old. “If you want to root for the Red Sox, that is your choice,” the mother said, “but you may not sit with the rest of the family during the games.”

The pained child protested. “But we are Yankees fans,” mom replied, ticking off the names of each member of the family as they hurried across the street. The child tripped, fell and dissolved into tears. Mom scooped him up. They made the light.

If You Can’t Beat Them, Allow Them to Redecorate Your Apartment

Graffiti apologist Hugo Martinez is having his apartment redecorated by graffitists:

This year, at least since late January, he’s been living amid graffiti designed to be part of a studio apartment that has been spruced up by two Dutch designers (who call themselves Kaptein Roodnat) and decorated by 13 graffitists. The graffitists range in age from 19 to 48, Mr. Martinez said, “and what links them is the clarity of their vision and the fact that they’ve all passed the threshold of criminality.”

Some, he said, have been arrested as many as 30 times, for everything from vandalism – for their graffiti – to selling crack.

The apartment decoration is part art prank, part reality show – there are plans for a Webcam – and part public service. Mr. Martinez would like to see city housing agencies deploy similar decorative strategies in their buildings – not that he’ll be knocking on any doors, mind you.

“I just put stuff out there,” he said. “I’m not going to call the mayor and beg.” “The Project in the Projects,” as this dressed-up apartment is called, is the ultimate act of graffiti. By painting and altering the regulation colors of an apartment in a 1960’s-era low-income housing project, Mr. Martinez’s team has done what graffitists the world over do – which is to mark up private property. Whether the result is enhancement or defacement is up to the beholder.

So what does it look like? From the slide show, it looks like someone basically tagged his refrigerator. But the Times finds a curiously post-modern parallel — Pottery Barn:

Inside this apartment, grim references become festive. There’s police-style tape laid down in a kind of mod plaid on the floor, and yellow utility lights strung from the ceiling – one assumes in an attempt to “quote” from the environment of your basic graffitist. In other words, here are things you’d find in a subway, or a crime scene. The effect is both colorful and goofy, like the rooms in Pottery Barn’s teen catalog.

Instead of shades, rolls of paper hang from dowels over the window and are decorated by a few graffitists. Others have made plexiglass boxes that can be stacked and used as a headboard for the bed, as supports for the bed and desk, and, when covered with a pistachio-colored square of foam, remarkably comfortable seating. One graffitist, Nato, filled plexiglass boxes with old spray cans gathered from the subway tracks, like a time capsule of his art – making it seem distant, almost forgotten. You can see the old Rustoleum cans – the 70’s-era paint of choice, Mr. Martinez said – and American Accent cans, a 90’s brand.

But since the proof is in the smooth, glossy rust-proof finish, that existential question of all art eventually nagged at Martinez:

Mr. Martinez said he’d awakened that morning worrying “that none of this was any good.”

In the end, he decided it was good. Which is why soon many of us will have graffitists redecorate our homes — and then graffitists will either have to discover new avenues of self-expression or be forced to give away their craft for free. I feel an Ayn Rand novel coming on.