There was a song on the radio which I liked, and thanks to modern technology, I could see the name of the band. “Toad the Wet Sprocket.”
How people come up with names is interesting, and I did waste, I mean “take the time” to read up on this one. However, researching this really reminded me of when four young girls formed a club in our backyard one summer. The bossy one, with a name similar to mine, wanted the club to be named, “The Curtain Rods.” The other three did not in any way, shape or form want that name attached to them.
We picked another name, more sedate, but for the life of me, I can’t remember what we were. We’ll always be “The Curtain Rods” as I hang on to that memory. (Pun intended.) At least we weren’t “Wet Sprockets.”