Jules Léotard was a French trapeze artist. His revolutionary performances—performed without a safety net—were so inspiring to George Leybourne that in 1867 he wrote a song about Léotard: "The Daring Young Man on the Flying Trapeze."
But Jules' more famous legacy is the one-piece exercise wear that now bears his name. Originally designed to allow for flexible, unrestricted movement on the trapeze, Léotard is, quite literally, a man who became a noun. And he hardly stands alone. Behind some of our most common words stand real-life namesakes. Where would be without Louis Braille, Etienne Silhouette, Joseph Guillotine, and the Earl of Sandwich?
What would I have to popularize or become known for to become a noun? To have a name that is so closely tied to something that it becomes interchangeable? Will "pulling a Peggy" ever be used beyond the scope of my own family to indicate my penchant for practical jokes? Will "Johnstone Scale" ever become a mainstream way to measure enthusiasm? I find it a little under-whelming to become a noun with the ever-present risk of genericide (think kleenex, bandaid, and google).
I prefer to lend my name to verbification—the act of activating a noun. Today, I will choose a new verb for myself, and it will be fun. Today, I will be a verb.