A pair of shorts by any other name would smell as sweet

IT'S NOT JUST our baloney that has a first name anymore.

In my dresser there's a pair of shorts called The Green Machine, and a hooded sweatshirt I've dubbed Grey Soldier. I once had a favorite golf ball named Trusty. He was unsinkable until he wasn't.

My car is Mitchell. Before him was Bruce. And before him, Marvin.

In college, I had a phone that we referred to as Tim.

These days apparently it's pretty common for people to name their cell phones and iPods.

There's a reason for assigning names and personalities to all these objects. It's kinda cute. It keeps us busy, lets our imagination roam. It shows how clever (and bored) we are.

In a research study released this month in the journal Psychological Science, Nicholas Epley, an assistant professor of behavioral science at the University of Chicago's Graduate School of Business, said people do this as a coping mechanism.

"When people lack a sense of connection with other people, they are more likely to see their pets, gadgets or gods as human-like," Epley wrote.

In other words, we are lonely.

Well, duh. That's the human condition!

In one experiment, the research team found a correlation between how lonely people felt and their tendency to describe a gadget in humanlike terms.

But inanimate objects often act like people. They are finicky and sometimes unreliable. Even better, they listen and don't interrupt. They're not needy about their problems. They're amenable to wherever you want to go to lunch.

In unexpected moments, they can bring you a touch of joy by functioning exactly as you hoped they would.

This is not a new phenomenon. One hundred years ago people named their horse-and-buggies.

We seem especially susceptible in Virginia.

If you walk along any shoreline in the area, you're likely to see people treating their boats better than their spouses.

Virginia has one of the highest concentrations of people with pet insurance. Nothing's too much for a non-human member of the family.

Marketers have taken advantage of our loneliness.

Newport News had a bus route called "Jump Over Jeff."

And of course, there's The Ted, as in the Ted Constant Convocation Center.

There's Bob FM.

Nationally, the Academy Awards have Oscar.

Satellite radio offers stations named Fred and Ethel.

United Airlines has an airline that goes by Ted.

At Ann Taylor Loft, women must choose their fit of pants by deciding whether they are Ann (versatile), Marisa (modern) or Julie (curvy).

Blech. It's forced. I prefer to come up with my own nicknames, thank you very much.

But that's just my opinion. If you don't like it, I have a dresser full of friends who aren't nearly as disagreeable.

Mike Gruss, (757) 446-2277, mike.gruss@pilotonline.com