There are two Emily Toths who turn up frequently in my Google Alert. Sure, of course I have it set to notify me. I want my renown.

I once tried to buy emilytoth.com as a domain name. But It was already taken! 

The Emily Toth-taker was a “girl who loves to draw,” she posted. She lived in Iowa and in the years when I stalked – er, checked on her – she went to college and worked for a while in Korea.  

Another Emily Toth, one in North Carolina, specialized in photographing weddings and children.

Now there’s Emily Toth-Ratazzi, a New York cross country runner. I raise my mouse and cheer for her, of course (“Go, Emily Toth!”)

But our star is Emily Toth Martin, a top coronavirus researcher in Michigan. When she wins the Nobel Prize, I hope they’ll pronounce our name correctly. Rhymes with both.

Only my dentist calls me “Tooth.” Because that’s his domain.

Anyhow, the name “Toth,” like everything Hungarian, has a morbid past. Like the German word “Tod,” it means “death.”

Eventually, we will all be Toth.

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A song about names