Check-box blacksmiths and the Black Smiths

• Dear Hipster:
• I was reading that column you did a while back about hipster baby names, and I had an idea. You know how some names are basically supergeneric white-guy names? I mean, here’s looking at you, Blake, Austin, Dylan, Cameron, and Spencer. Good luck in the lacrosse tournament, amiright? Obviously, those white-guy names aren’t hipster. But, does it become hipster if you give those names (plot twist) to a girl?
• — Jen (Sadly, Not a Hipster Name)

Makes sense to me.

And, hey, why not “Sherlock,” while you’re at it?

• Dear Hipster:
• How come you don’t see more hipsters becoming blacksmiths? Not only does blacksmithing require mastering an antiquated skillset, but growing a bushy beard probably comes with the territory. I bet a nice, cold Grapefruit Sculpin tastes that much better after a hard day at the forge, forging I don’t know what for I don’t know who. Actually, that’s probably the one weakness with the trade of blacksmithing: limited demand for handcrafted ironworks. Still, when the world is short of blacksmiths, why should hipsters limit themselves to such crafts as “barista,” “bartender,” and...some other job that starts with B?
• — Brian

Meh. Hipster blacksmith will never be as hipster as the Black Smiths, an irrelevant early-2000s cover band who performed Smiths songs in the style of Black Sabbath. What’s that you say? You wish you could hear that? Well, lucky for you, my masterful archival skills unearthed a track or two. You’re welcome. Interested parties can email me for MP3 copies of “Shoplifters in the Void” and “Planet in a Coma.”

Either way, rest assured, contemporary blacksmithing is a thing.

• Dear Hipster:
• Will it ever stop raining?
• — Soaked

Oh, great. You jinxed it. Now it’ll probably turn to sulfur and herald the coming of Cthulhu.

• Dear Hipster:
• I was at Vons the other day, and I noticed that the yams were really cheap, not much more expensive than regular potatoes. They’re totally delicious! Way better than stodgy old potatoes that make you fat, and much more nutritious, with many vitamins and minerals. They are this beautiful orange color, and they can be eaten with fish, meat, or alone as a staple. They’re basically the perfect starch, when you get right down to it. So, how come I never see yams on local menus? It’s not like area restaurants are averse to obscure hipster starches. Plenty of Jerusalem artichokes to go around, and no shortage of kohlrabi purée. I see polenta for days, and even the occasional turnip. But it’s like nobody wants to put yams on the menu. Maybe nobody knows how to cook them, or they have some kind of bad rap because everybody associates them with Thanksgiving dinner and marshmallows. Maybe people actually hate them. I don’t know. You’re the expert here. What gives?
• — Anonymous Yam Eater

Sweet potatoes. They’re sweet potatoes, and I think they’re unpopular because they suffer a permanent identity crisis. Yams are a completely different family of plants, most of which grow in Africa. I don’t know why I care about this so much, but I do. Maybe somebody took away my security potato when I was a little kid, so now I have a complex. More likely, I enjoy smugly whipping out this particular bit of trivia at parties as a way to make myself feel superior. Yup. That’s probably it.