STORMY NAMESAKES AN ILL WIND BLOWS FOR KATRINAS.

Byline: Nicole M. Campbell Local View

IT'S a tough time to be a Katrina.

Katrina Blowitz (yes, even the last name - a steady source of snickers and jokes throughout the years - is so hurricane unfriendly) and I have been friends since 1985. She's been through some tough stuff in her life, no doubt about it. But seeing her name splashed across TV screens and newspapers the past few weeks equated with death and destruction has bummed her out a little.

``In the beginning, it was very exciting seeing my name,'' said Blowitz, 31. ``Growing up it was never on pencils or toothbrushes.''

But when Hurricane Katrina took a turn for the worse, the real Katrina changed her tune. ``I felt bad about being excited about it. But I'm still not used to seeing it everywhere. Like when I walk into Starbucks, 'Donate to Katrina.' I just don't see my name in print ever.''

Now don't misunderstand. Nobody is saying having their name synonymous with a deadly hurricane even approaches the misery said event leaves in its wake. Still, it is an odd phenomenon, this humanizing of hurricanes. It certainly doesn't make them more friendly or welcoming.

But because more than one storm can be brewing at the same time, naming them does make it less confusing, according to officials at the National Hurricane Center in Miami, part of the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration.

However, sharing your moniker with certainly the most financially costly hurricane to hit U.S. shores, and what very well may be the deadliest, can do a number on the old psyche.

``I had a woman call me this morning in tears because her daughter was named Katrina,'' said Frank Lepore, National Hurricane center spokesman, ``and she was traumatized practically to the point where she wouldn't go out of the house.''

The World Meteorological Organization, a United Nations agency, is at the hurricane-naming helm now. But the National Hurricane Center began giving human names to its charges in 1953. Before that, hurricanes were named after saints, longitude and latitude coordinates or letters of the phonetic alphabet (Alpha, Bravo, Charlie.) One early 20th century Australian forecaster gave tropical cyclones the names of politicians he disliked, an idea that's sure to gain footing among many.

For Atlantic storms, the ones that most often develop into hurricanes that make landfall at the usual American hot spots - anywhere from the Gulf Coast through Florida and as far north as the Carolinas - only women's names were used (that's another column) until the boys joined the fray in 1979. A set list of alternating male and female names, then, are recycled every six years.

All but five letters of the alphabet are used, so the Quinns, Ursulas, Xaviers, Yolandas and Zacharys of the world are off the hook. If a hurricane ends up being too costly or deadly, the name is retired, ``for obvious reasons of sensitivity.''

To date, 62 names are in the Hurricane Hall of Shame.

So if a particularly destructive hurricane's name is retired to avoid being insensitive to its victims, why give it a human name in the first place? You could use lists of colors, numbers, anything that doesn't have an emotional attachment to it. What's the point of humanizing a natural disaster that for all purposes is going to be pretty rotten?

Maybe it's a good defense mechanism. How can Hurricane Nana (on 2008's Atlantic storms list) be intimidating? Wouldn't she be more likely to bake you cookies and tell you stories of the good old days than to split structures apart with her ferocious wind gusts?

Certainly Hurricane Tony, who may or may not make an appearance next year, would rather take you out for a slice and play a little stickball with the guys from the old neighborhood than drench city streets with his heavy downpours.

It's not like the hurricane-namers haven't given hard thought to the psychological and emotional implications of what they do. ``On some level, we're sensitive to negatively stigmatizing people,'' Lepore said. ``I guess they could have named (hurricanes) after flowers or other neutral things.''

My friend Katrina isn't one of them, but you know, there are still some people who like the drama. This is underscored by the fact the first question listed on the National Hurricane Center's Extremely Frequently Asked Questions section is, ``Can I have a tropical cyclone named for me?'' (Extremely frequently asked?) Uh, wouldn't a nice snow globe or personalized license plate key chain do the trick?

There have already been 15 named storms of the 2005 hurricane season. If just seven more name-worthy storms develop, guess what kids - we've run out of names. That's never happened, but there is a backup plan - using Greek letters.

So while the pundits and the politicians play the blame game for who dropped the ball in New Orleans, let's think about ditching the name game. Letters are better.