Name yo’ self: the dreams and ventures of Tom Haverford
America is obsessed with entrepreneurship and that obsession extends into the media we create and consume. From “Shark Tank” to “Silicon Valley,” our cultural landscape is populated with narratives and characters that articulate our love for longshot inventions and industrious, garage-based skunkworks teams. We lionize fictional business icons like Charles Foster Kane and Gordon Gecko, and reference soliloquies from “Glengarry Glen Ross” and “The Social Network” on a daily basis — whether intentional or not. The most voracious of entrepreneurs compare themselves to oceanic predators or milkshake thieves, but today I’d like to focus on a perennially underachieving government official with a serious case of the side hustles: Tom Haverford.
Tom Haverford, from NBC’s “Parks and Recreation,” might be the millennial, network TV answer to George Bailey — he’s popular, charming, and always ready with a fresh idea. As an avid fan of the show, I took it upon myself to put a namer’s eye to the full offering that Tom brings to life (or attempts to) throughout all 125 episodes of “Parks.”
To narrow the field of Tom’s ventures — after all, he mentions at least 26 over the course of the series — and to address the most interesting names of the bunch I decided to lay some ground rules. All of the names that I am evaluating were: 1) given a branded name by Tom, 2) had a reasonably thought-out description of goods and services, and 3) could be analyzed against the name species from Creative Director Eli Altman’s naming workbook, “Don’t Call It That.” I’ll be offering Tom a little pro bono, post facto advice that might have helped him on his adventures.
SnakeJuice
Don’t Call It That species: 02. Adrenaline
Tom pitched SnakeJuice as “a new, high-end Kahlúa-style liqueur” made of “a bunch of alcohol, some sugar and coffee, and a bunch of other junk.” The effects of the concoction had him and his colleagues behaving like Four Loko zombies so going the Adrenaline-themed naming direction makes some sense. However, if you stop and think about it, do you and your friends want to imagine that you’re drinking emulsified snake guts? Probably not. Could work for a specific audience, but it’s a very, very specific audience.
Tommy and the Foxx
Don’t Call It That species: 05. Blank & Blank
Tom had big plans for his future, going so far as to imagine that he might one day be the CEO of the Spike TV network. What would he do when he reached that fabled pinnacle of cultural power? He’d make “a raunchy animated series” based on his imaginary friendship with Jamie Foxx — who is also his personal assistant in this fantasy. Blank & Blank names are very fashionable at the moment and, as with fashion, they won’t be in style very long. Since the history of television is well populated with Blank & Blank names like “Mork & Mindy” and “Will & Grace,” I think Tom and his team could find a more clever way to separate themselves from the pack.
Sparkle Suds
Don’t Call It That species: 08. Descriptive
Tom’s first home product came equipped with a tagline: “Dress Loud!” Sparkle Suds may suffer less for naming reasons — it’s not particularly *bad*, just a bit generic for the space — but more so from a product development perspective. It was billed as “laundry detergent with glitter in it.” It would definitely give your clothes a counter-intuitive pop, but this name wouldn’t get anyone’s attention in a shimmering detergent aisle.
Know Ya Boo
Don’t Call It That species: 11. Exclamation
Unrelated to his possible future at Spike TV, Tom dreamed up “a dope new game show where [he’d] ask couples scandalous questions, and they have to guess what the other one answered.” TV aficionados can, of course, see this “Newlywed Game” rip-off from a mile away. However, the name is kind of funny and hits a nice note in the context of a reboot. Dating and panel game shows are always looking for a new angle and Tom’s vast pop culture knowledge and particular, Ginuwine-influenced sense of romance could definitely help this brand stay top of mind during a hypothetical sweeps week.
Tom’s Bistro
Don’t Call It That species: 12. Foreign-Feeling
“The word bistro is classy as shit” — touché. While Tom initially envisioned a nightclub based on the concept of a classy French restaurant, he ultimately opens Tom’s Bistro as an actual “classy, authentic, new-world Italian restaurant.” “Bistro” does certainly evoke a certain je ne sais quoi and in a small town like fictional Pawnee, Indiana it may sound downright cosmopolitan. Based on the strong business relationships Tom cultivates in the private sector he seems to know his audience. Therefore, “bistro” may be the sweet spot between Chez Tom and Tommy’s that he needs to attract his fellow Pawneeans. Finally, in this fictional small town in Indiana there may only be one restaurateur bold enough to call their place a bistro — it’s never bad to be one of one in a given category.
Like the A Hundred Monkeys team, Tom likes to name things that aren’t brands as well, “‘Zerts’ are what I call desserts. ‘Trée-trées’ are entrées. I call sandwiches ‘sammies,’ ‘sandoozles,’ or ‘Adam Sandlers.’ Air conditioners are ‘cool blasterz’ with a ‘z’ — I don’t know where that came from. I call cakes ‘big ol’ cookies.’ I call noodles ‘long-ass rice.’ Fried chicken is ‘fry-fry chicky-chick.’ Chicken parm is ‘chicky-chicky-parm-parm.’ Chicken cacciatore? ‘Chicky-cacc.’ I call eggs ‘pre-birds,’ or ‘future birds.’ Root beer is ‘super water.’ Tortillas are ‘bean blankets.’ And I call forks ‘food rakes.’”
Eclipse
Don’t Call It That species: 16. Into the Wild
When I first heard of Tom’s “nightclub that’s only open for one hour, two times a year” with a cover charge of $5,000, I felt like I was right back in LA (where I lived for 13 years). When he said he wanted to call it Eclipse, I couldn’t help but make the connection to Equinox, the gym. The members and employees of that gym apparently celebrate the vernal and autumnal equinoxes with luxurious, private parties. When you add that to the fact that one tier of that gym (E at Equinox) can run north of $26,000 per year, it seems that Tom is definitely thinking in line with current future-forward, luxury experiences — and Eclipse definitely speaks to a unique kind of exclusivity the same way he pitches it.
Yogurt Platinum
Don’t Call It That species: 21. Name as Statement
With kombuchas, cannabis sodas, alcoholic slushies, and boozy milkshakes proliferating and blurring the lines between “virgin” drinks and their intoxicating counterparts, we’re not far from Tom’s Yogurt Platinum, “a gourmet alcoholic yogurt.” Using “platinum” is nothing new for brands trying to up-res a new line extension, Exhibit A: Bud Light Platinum. Again though, with nearly 20 major brands of yogurt in the world that offer hundreds of distinct products, using “Platinum” as your primary differentiator may leave customers feeling uninspired by that *story* and less than eager to try your alcoholic, bacterially fermented milk product.
Rent-a-Swag
Don’t Call It That species: 29. Utilitarian
If Tom’s Bistro is Tom’s kingdom then Rent-a-Swag is his luxurious wardrobe — and, quite literally, it is. Rent-a-Swag offers his “high-end clothes [as] rentals for teens, tweens, and everything in-betweens.” Tom launches it when he realizes that he needs to engage in the sharing economy in order to support his expensive tastes, and proceeds to rent his clothes to similarly-sized individuals. Interestingly, Rent-a-Swag is maybe the most Utilitarian name of the bunch, but is supposed to speak to an audience interested in high fashion. It’s a fairly direct name that could be category defining temporarily, but it might get out maneuvered by copycat brands that build more style into their names — think Le Tote, Rent the Runway, or Vow to be Chic.
Tom Haverford has seemingly endless energy and enthusiasm for coming up with new businesses and products. He also does what any of us might do and immediately begins to brand those ideas. While some of Tom’s names aren’t the strongest, he definitely aims to make them eye-catching and mirthful for his many audiences. With a little deep thinking, and some guidance from “Don’t Call It That,” he could dig deeper and refine his names to capture the imaginations of south-central Indiana and start conversations with rich, engaging stories.
