Naming Conundrums

Bathed in autumnal sunshine, I drove along the M1 this morning heading towards South Leeds. As I approached junction 45 on my recreational jaunt, my mind randomly commenced pondering the naming process behind car glove compartments. After all, in half a century of travel I’ve never seen one pair of gloves in any vehicle in which I’ve journeyed.

I realise that naming it after items individuals actually keep in this storage area isn’t that easy. After all glove compartment is a far more agreeable label than MOT certificate, Wheel nut lock and Sting CD compartment. That being said, perhaps a more contemporary moniker could be found for this storage area where gloves never reside.

There must be a more accurate nom descriptif for the location of my extra strong mints, torch, service book, and a mouldy wine gum reside.

As much as I love the jelly sweets, I think the label of wine gum compartment lacks a certain je ne sais quoi. As does extra strong mints compartment. I’m sure there would be those of liberal ideology would agree with me, adding that validating high alcohol or excessive sugar intake is a foolhardy strategy. 

Image result for glove compartment

So after ruling out a sugar inclusive label for this currently misleading named area in a car, what possibilities do we have left?

Torch compartment? Uninspired hideaway for Sat Nav compartment? Sunglasses with lens and one arm missing compartment? Random piece of black plastic off a window handle compartment?

I have no answers, I’m not the creative bloke at Audi, Ford or BMW who makes up compartment names. If I was I would immediately bestow on it the moniker ‘Allsorts of Shite compartment’. Alas, I don’t have that remit, so if some exec at a motor company ever decides a new contemporary name is required, one of their clever name maker uppers will earn shed loads of money for the honour.

Anyway, who cares Gary?!

After I lost interest in renaming glove compartments, in the distance I caught sight of a solitary wind turbine close to the motorway junction. Isolated like this, the large structure that converts the winds kinetic energy into electric power looked lost and without a friend in the world.

My neurological corridors then started populating with thoughts of how much power one turbine actually produces. Would this marginalised energy converter be able to create enough power to light up the South of Leeds?

Alternatively, is it the case this marginalised turbine only creates enough electricity to power the cooling fan on the Lord Mayor of Leeds’ desk at the Town Hall?

I smiled to myself as a misty vision sprung to mind of the cooling fan woefully matching the turbines slow revolutions on a windless West Yorkshire day. A sweating Mayor cursing the fans lamentable cooling qualities.

Of course, this lone energy converter wouldn’t be able to power all of the southern area of the metropolis, or have so little energy it could only weakly source a desk fan. However, it needs a visit to Tinder for Turbine to find a friend.

Right, I’m off to retrieve the mouldy wine gum from my Sting CD compartment.

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