What's your NPR name?

You will no longer refer to me by my Christian name. For now on, please call me Jaspon Furadouro - NPR correspondent and expert on the trivial and mundane.

I won't be making the change legal anytime soon, but you can bet that when NPR needs a story on the 1950's diner (that started as a secret Nazi youth induction center) facing closure due to the struggling local economy, Jaspon Furadouro will have the story. Complete with ambience audio and interviews of a haggard, well-over-retirement-age figurehead manager detailing the early days of the diner (because he remembers them well between the long pauses and throat clearing).

But seriously, I would love to be an NPR correspondent. I just don't have the right name. Or the voice. Or the look. But here's a way I can fake it 'til I fail at it.

Thank you Liana and Eric (reposted from http://liana.tumblr.com/post/95793665/your-npr-name). Very clever.

Eric and I recently discovered a shared fascination with the slew of impossibly named NPR hosts we listen to every day: Renee Montagne, Steve Inskeep, Corey Flintoff, Korva Coleman, Kai Ryssdal, Dina Temple-Raston.

In fact, we’ve often wondered what it would be like to be one of them. A Nina Totenberg or a Renita Jablonski. A David Kestenbaum or a Lakshmi Singh. Even (on our most ambitious days) a Cherry Glaser or a Sylvia Poggioli.

So finally, after years of Fresh Air sign-off ambitions, we came up with a system for creating our own NPR Names. Here’s how it works: You take your middle initial and insert it somewhere into your first name. Then you add on the smallest foreign town you’ve ever visited.

So I’m Liarna Kassel. And Eric is Jeric Bath. I even have a new nickname for my little brother in Dylsan Rosarita.

So. Who are you going to be today?