I’ve always been fascinated by word origins, and in the last few days I’ve been chasing down eponyms. An “eponym” is a word derived from the name of a person, place or object. Many of the words we commonly use came from the trademarks for products. Others have some history that I find enjoyable, and hope you do as well.

I don’t know about you, but “aspirin” means just about any pain reliever to me. It even means “Tylenol” which has come to mean any acetaminophen tablet. When I search on the computer, I “Google,” even if I’m using Yahoo. A tissue is a “Kleenex,” even though I buy the cheaper store brand. If I make a copy, it’s always a “Xerox,” even if I use the computer. Any paper cup is a “Dixie cup.” Vinyl flooring is “linoleum” and a vacuum cleaner is a “Hoover.” In fact in England, hoover has become a verb, as in “Hoover” the linoleum. I wouldn’t be caught not wearing my “brassiere.” I’m too lazy to climb stairs, so I always take the “escalator.” All of those words were trademarks before they became generic terms.

Have you ever “botched” a job? Jeremy Botch did—in a big way. He was an English carpenter helping build the Brighton Pavilion. Bless his heart, he constructed a screen that fell on the head of the Prince Regent, so now his name will always be remembered. Today, we might say that incident was a “fiasco,” thanks to an Italian opera impresario who had a stage collapse during a play in 1837 and injure many of his cast members. The man’s name was Alessandro Fiasco. And, if Jeremy Botch was considered a “dunce,” that is because of John Duns Scotus (1266-1308). Scotus was a writer whose work must have been terrible.

If you are writing, pause to think about the “comma.” Punctuation marks can get you in big trouble. Just ask Domenico de Comma, who got charged with heresy during the Inquisition over that particular punctuation mark. Evidently, the original Bible didn’t have commas, and when Domenico inserted them, it was considered an affront to God. Be sure, if you are writing poetry, that it’s good poetry. The poems of Matthew Doggerel were rotten, so his verses are mostly forgotten (sorry).

If you are “batty,” don’t worry about it. Just hope not to suffer the fate of Fitzherbert Batty, who was a slightly eccentric, but harmless, barrister in Jamaica. He was certified insane in 1839, and the news made the press. His last name entered the language.

A well-known 17th century Parisian gambler named Pierre Buffet started the custom of letting his guests help themselves to the food at the side table. If you go to a “buffet” and have a “sandwich,” remember the Earl of Sandwich, who couldn’t leave his card game. Instead, he had his servant bring him a slice of meat between two pieces of bread. But, if you have a really big sandwich, your “Dagwood” owes its name to a cartoon character of the same name.

Are you having “avocado” on that sandwich? Jorge Avocado (1798-1868) was an Argentinean botanist who introduced the fruit to Europe. I wonder what they called the avocado before that? Sir George Curry (1826-1890) was a British general in India who liked spicy stews, thus “curry” bears his name. When you place a little “marmalade” on toast, remember Joao Marmalado (1450-1510) who boiled oranges with sugar in Portugal to make a breakfast jam. However, don’t go on a “binge,” which was named for Sir Oswald Binge (1678-1768) who consumed copious amounts of food and drink at meals that went on for a week!

The child star Shirley Temple and Mary I, Queen of England both left their mark on the bar tending world. That drink without alcohol is Shirley’s contribution. The “Bloody Mary,” of course, is the Queen’s. She earned her nickname of Bloody Mary because she loved to lop off the heads of Protestants). A blind Benedictine monk named Dom Perignon (1638-1715) invented champagne. The labels were not in “Braille,” because Louise Braille didn’t invent that system of writing for the blind until 1852.

You might find a “Casanova” in a “cabaret.” You might even have found the great adventurer and promiscuous lover Giovanni Casanova (1725-1798) in one. The time frame was right. Antoine de Cabaret (1749-1793) was the owner of the famous Café Rue du Bac in Paris, so nightclubs now bear her name.

Thank Etienne Corset (1760-1832) for that uncomfortable undergarment. Corsets were originally designed for army officers, and later adapted for women’s use. Jacob Trowser (1779-1848) lends his name to the pants he called “leggings.” Julius Leotard, a 19th century French aerial gymnast popularized the skin tight “leotards.” Mrs. Amelia Bloomer, an American social reformer, shocked the world with her loose fitting women’s trousers in 1851. Edward Stanley, the 12th Earl of Derby, was often seen in a felt hat with a domed crown and narrow rolled brim, the likes of which are now called a “derby.”

When you stop at a “kiosk” in the mall to buy a “gadget,” don’t forget that Imre Kiosk (1862-1921) made a fortune with his tiny stalls selling newspapers and cigarettes. Also remember Walter Gadget (1848-1918), who was an American businessman who made a fortune with ingenious household devices.

I could keep going for pages, because it seems you can’t drive down the street without meeting an eponym. In fact, if you are driving on a paved street, you can thank Leopold von Asphalt (1802-1880), a Bavarian who mixed sand, bitumen and pitch for making roads.

I’d be remiss to stop without reminding you of the poor unfortunate Thomas Crapper. Before his time, if one felt the call of nature and didn’t want to go to the outhouse, the only options were chamber pots (thunder mugs, as we call them around here) or closet stools. Thomas invented the first flush toilet, marketed as Crapper’s Valveless Water Waste Preventor. We use that wonderful device every day and still take the poor man’s name in vain. I don’t need to tell you I think that is a load of…well, I don’t think it’s very nice.

If you know any eponyms, please feel free to share your favorites. Post a comment or send me an e-mail, and I’ll put them on-line.