I just dreamed that I came home for lunch and found my brother Ryan sitting in an armchair, watching three capybaras napping on a greasy blanket on the couch.
I say to him, "There seem to be three capybaras on the couch." He says, "I know." I say, "Why are there three capybaras on the couch?" He says, "I saw an ad that (name of community) Capybara Rescue was having a fostering program and I thought it sounded great." I said, "Sure it'll be great, until the living room starts to smell like an Iowa feed lot." Then I woke up mad at my brother.
The truly daft part about this dream is that I don't actually have an armchair.
Now to see if I can get back to sleep again. ...
Art: Photo by Karoly Lorentey, licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic license.
Showing posts with label whimsy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label whimsy. Show all posts
Wednesday, May 13, 2026
Sunday, April 12, 2026
Old Spice
OFFICIAL: Who's next?
DUDE: That'll be me.
OFFICIAL: What can I help you with?
(DUDE unzips what appears to be a shaving kit and starts pulling out various spice jars and lining them up on the counter)
DUDE: I'd like to register these spices to vote.
OFFICIAL: You what? Surely you're not serious.
DUDE: Ain't I? I'm actually kind of ashamed I didn't get around to this in time for the last election cycle.
OFFICIAL: But how could you dream that this could be legal?
DUDE: If it's about the age requirement, they're old enough for sure. My goodness, I've had this jar of marjoram since the George W. Bush administration. And I'm pretty sure I inherited this canister of chili powder from my grandma.
OFFICIAL: I see. Well, there's a problem with that. You have to be a person to vote.
DUDE: Oh, these guys have personality all right. Terragon here is such a card! And oh, my goodness, cayenne is opinionated.
OFFICIAL: I mean a human person.
DUDE: So, like, Soylent Green is good enough, but not an honest fella from Indonesia like, say, nutmeg here? That smacks of racism if you ask me.
OFFICIAL: Now wait a minute, you can't just throw around accusations like that.
DUDE: Why not? What's wrong with being brown? Or green? Or ... what is this color, exactly? And it's not as if they still hold the flavor of their homeland, after all this time. They're quite assimilated.
OFFICIAL: It's a matter of citizenship. Being able to make a useful contribution to society, and all that.
DUDE: Useful? You want useful? These guys give flavor to life. They're the only reason I can choke down the cheap rubbish I can afford to bring home from the market. Also, I'm pretty sure turmeric is an over-the-counter medicine these days.
OFFICIAL: (squinting at the date on a jar of paprika) But look here, this stuff is expired.
DUDE: That hasn't stopped plenty of voters from getting registered!
DUDE: That'll be me.
OFFICIAL: What can I help you with?
(DUDE unzips what appears to be a shaving kit and starts pulling out various spice jars and lining them up on the counter)
DUDE: I'd like to register these spices to vote.
OFFICIAL: You what? Surely you're not serious.
DUDE: Ain't I? I'm actually kind of ashamed I didn't get around to this in time for the last election cycle.
OFFICIAL: But how could you dream that this could be legal?
DUDE: If it's about the age requirement, they're old enough for sure. My goodness, I've had this jar of marjoram since the George W. Bush administration. And I'm pretty sure I inherited this canister of chili powder from my grandma.
OFFICIAL: I see. Well, there's a problem with that. You have to be a person to vote.
DUDE: Oh, these guys have personality all right. Terragon here is such a card! And oh, my goodness, cayenne is opinionated.
OFFICIAL: I mean a human person.
DUDE: So, like, Soylent Green is good enough, but not an honest fella from Indonesia like, say, nutmeg here? That smacks of racism if you ask me.
OFFICIAL: Now wait a minute, you can't just throw around accusations like that.
DUDE: Why not? What's wrong with being brown? Or green? Or ... what is this color, exactly? And it's not as if they still hold the flavor of their homeland, after all this time. They're quite assimilated.
OFFICIAL: It's a matter of citizenship. Being able to make a useful contribution to society, and all that.
DUDE: Useful? You want useful? These guys give flavor to life. They're the only reason I can choke down the cheap rubbish I can afford to bring home from the market. Also, I'm pretty sure turmeric is an over-the-counter medicine these days.
OFFICIAL: (squinting at the date on a jar of paprika) But look here, this stuff is expired.
DUDE: That hasn't stopped plenty of voters from getting registered!
Saturday, August 23, 2025
What's It Called In Your State?
This has been building up for a while. Watching a lot of true crime videos, I've noticed that different U.S. states call their criminal investigation agencies different things, and I thought it would be interesting to see how many different variants there are. And that led to other ideas ... there will probably be more installments of this kind of thing.
So, here are the names of state police agencies, by U.S. state:
I was also thinking about "What do they call the Department of Motor Vehicles in all 50 states?" Is it called the DMV or something else? So here's that run-down:
So, here are the names of state police agencies, by U.S. state:
- Alabama: State Bureau of Investigations (SBI) and the Highway Patrol (AHP)
- Alaska: Bureau of Investigation (ABI) and Alaska State Troopers (AST)
- Arizona: Highway Patrol (AHP) and Criminal Investigations Division (CID)
- Arkansas: Arkansas State Police (ASP) and the Arkansas Highway Police (AHP) (under two separate departments!)
- California: Bureau of Investigation (CBI), among other agencies.
- Colorado: Bureau of Investigation (CBI) Connecticut: Bureau of Criminal Investigations (BCI) Delaware: State Police (DSP) Florida: Bureau of Criminal Investigations and Intelligence (BCII) and Highway Patrol (FHP)
- Georgia: Bureau of Investigation (GBI)
- Hawaii: Department of Law Enforcement, which has a Criminal Investigation Division (CID)
- Idaho: State Police (ISP)
- Illinois: Division of Criminal Investigation (DCI)
- Indiana: Criminal Investigation Division (CID)
- Iowa: Division of Criminal Investigation (DCI)
- Kentucky: Department of Criminal Investigation (DCI)
- Louisiana: State Police (LSP), a.k.a. Police d’Etat de Louisiane
- Maine: State Police (MSP)
- Maryland: State Police (MSP)
- Massachusetts: State Police (MSP)
- Michigan: State Police (MSP)
- Minnesota: Bureau of Criminal Apprehension (BCI) and State Patrol (MSP)
- Mississippi: Bureau of Investigation (MBI)
- Missouri: State Highway Patrol (MSHP), which has a CID
- Montana: Division of Criminal Investigations (DCI)
- Nebraska: State Patrol (NSP), also with an Investigative Services division
- Nevada: Investigation Division (NID)
- New Hampshire: Investigative Services Bureau (ISB)
- New Jersey: Criminal Investigations Bureau (CIB) and State Detectives (NJSD)
- New Mexico: State Police (NMSP) Investigations Bureau (IB)
- New York: State Police (NYSP) Bureau of Criminal Investigations (BCI)
- North Carolina: State Bureau of Investigation (SBI)
- North Dakota: Bureau of Criminal Investigation (BCI)
- Ohio: Bureau of Criminal Investigation (BCI)
- Oklahoma: State Bureau of Investigation (SBI)
- Oregon: Criminal Justice Division (under the Department of Justice)
- Pennsylvania: State Police (PSP) Bureau of Criminal Investigation
- Puerto Rico: Special Investigations Bureau (SIB, or Negociado de Investigaciones Especiales, NIE)
- Rhode Island: State Police (RHSP) Detective Bureau
- South Carolina: Law Enforcement Division (SLED) and Highway Patrol (SCHP)
- South Dakota: Division of Criminal Investigation (SDCI)
- Tennessee: Bureau of Investigation (TBI)
- Texas: Rangers and Criminal Investigations Division (CID)
- Utah: State Bureau of Investigation (SBI)
- Vermont: Bureau of Criminal Investigations (BCI)
- Virginia: Bureau of Criminal Investigation (BCI)
- Washington: State Patrol (WSP) Criminal Investigations Division (CID)
- West Virginia: State Police (WVSP) Bureau of Criminal Investigations (BCI)
- Wisconsin: Division of Criminal Investigation (DCI)
- Wyoming: Division of Criminal Investigation (DCI)
I was also thinking about "What do they call the Department of Motor Vehicles in all 50 states?" Is it called the DMV or something else? So here's that run-down:
- Alabama: Driver License Division and Division of Motor Vehicles (under two separate departments!)
- Alaska: Division of MVs
- Arizona: MV Division
- Arkansas: Office of Motor Vehicle (singular!)
- California: Department of MVs
- Colorado: Division of MVs
- Connecticut: Department of MVs
- Delaware: Division of MVs
- D.C.: Department of MVs
- Florida: Department of Highway Safety and MVs
- Georgia: Department of Driver Services and Motor Vehicle Division (same story, one's public safety and the other is revenue)
- Hawaii: Driver License Division and Motor Vehicle Division (same story)
- Idaho: Division of MVs
- Illinois: Driver Services Department and Vehicle Services Department (same story)
- Indiana: Bureau of Motor Vehicles
- Iowa: MV Division
- Kansas: Division of Vehicles
- Kentucky: Division of Driver Licensing and MV Licensing System
- Louisiana: Office of MVs
- Maine: Bureau of MVs
- Maryland: MV Administration
- Massachusetts: Registry of MVs
- Minnesota: Driver and Vehicle Services
- Mississippi: MV Licensing Division
- Missouri: Department of Revenue
- Montana: MV Division
- Nebraska: Department of MVs
- Nevada: Department of MVs
- New Hampshire: Division of MVs
- New Jersey: MV Commission
- New Mexico: MV Division
- New York: Department of MVs
- North Carolina: Division of MVs
- North Dakota: Driver License Division and MV Division
- Ohio: Bureau of MVs
- Oklahoma: Department of Public Safety and Tax Commission (the same driver license vs. vehicle records split)
- Oregon: Driver and MV Services
- Pennsylvania: Driver and Vehicle Services
- Rhode Island: Division of MVs
- South Carolina: Department of MVs
- South Dakota: Department of Public Safety and Department of Revenue
- Tennessee: Driver License Services and Vehicle Services Division
- Texas: Driver License Division and Department of MVs
- Utah: Driver License Services and Division of MVs
- Vermont: Department of MVs
- Virginia: Department of MVs
- Washington: Department of Licensing
- West Virginia: Division of MVs
- Wisconsin: Division of MVs
- Wyoming: Driver Services Program
Wednesday, April 30, 2025
Another Inevitable Country-Western Song
The first one was just a minute ago. Here's its sequel, alternatively titled "Off You Rock."
Don't forget to slam the door when off you rock;
I don't pay to air condition the whole block.
Don't add insult to heartbreak;
My electric bill's at stake.
So, don't forget to shut the door when off you rock.
Turn the lights off, please, before you shut the door;
I'll have nothing much to look at anymore.
I can sit and cry and brood
In a gloom that suits my mood.
So, turn the lights off, please, before you shut the door.
If you've got to leave your man, it
Doesn't have to kill the planet.
Turn the lights off, shut the door, and off you rock.
Don't forget to slam the door when off you rock;
I don't pay to air condition the whole block.
Don't add insult to heartbreak;
My electric bill's at stake.
So, don't forget to shut the door when off you rock.
Turn the lights off, please, before you shut the door;
I'll have nothing much to look at anymore.
I can sit and cry and brood
In a gloom that suits my mood.
So, turn the lights off, please, before you shut the door.
If you've got to leave your man, it
Doesn't have to kill the planet.
Turn the lights off, shut the door, and off you rock.
Monday, December 9, 2024
County names in the U.S. revisited
Way back in 2007, I wrote a post about my fascination with U.S. counties, focusing on ones that shared the same names. More recently, I did a another post or two on the shapes and sizes of counties in each state, suggesting that some of them shouldn't even exist. For the newspaper at which I work, I even published a column a few years ago about some confusing quirks of Minnesota counties in which (for instance) one county often shares its name with a town or city in another county. And of course I'm always amusing myself by making note of what county I'm passing through wherever I travel. So, of course, being an obsessive type, I recently put a lot of time and effort into creating a spreadsheet counting how many times each county name occurs within the 50 United States of America. And let me tell you the results. Hold still. This will only hurt a bit.
NOTE: I hope Drew Durnil doesn't mind me using his map of the instances of Washington County in the U.S., which I found on his Reddit. I have enjoyed quite a few of his videos on YouTube. Apparently we both have a bit of the same sickness. Another note: I'm including Louisiana parishes, Alaska boroughs and independent cities (of which Virginia has quite a few) in this list, since they're county-equivalent, second-level divisions after the states themselves.
So here's the damage. Counting variant spellings, and allowing for a margin for error in my vast task, I found 1,809 distinct county names in the U.S. The majority by far – 1,379 of them – are one-offs, which I'm obviously not going to list in full even though some of them are quite interesting. They range alphabetically from Abbeville (SC) to Ziebach (SD). There are 225 pairs of two counties with the same name, alphabetically from Albany (NY, WY) to Yuma (AZ, CO). There are 85 triples, from Baker to Wyoming; 138 foursomes, from Adair to Wood; 19 groups of five counties sharing names from Allen to York; 16 groups of six counties with names from Custer to Webster; only four groups of seven (Howard, Lewis, Pulaski and Richland); 11 groups of eight, from Boone to Randolph; and seven groups of nine counties sharing names from Benton to Shelby.
Breaking into two digits, we find six names shared by 10 counties: Hamilton, Hancock, Henry, Logan, Perry and Pike. If you're playing one of those Sporcle puzzles where you have to name all the counties in a state, these are all very good guesses; they'll be right one-fifth of the time. They get better from here. There are six names shared by 11 counties each: Calhoun, Crawford, Fayette, Lawrence, Morgan and Scott. (The variant Lafayette accounts for another six counties.) The seven names shared by 12 counties each are Adams, Clark (with no e; Clarke is in the five-county bracket), Douglas, Lake, Lee, Marshall and Polk. Only three names are distributed among 13 counties each: Carroll, Johnson and Warren. Greene (with an e) is the only name shared by exactly 14 counties. At 15, there are only two: Grant and Wayne. There are no 16-county name groups. The three names for groups of 17 counties are Marion, Monroe and Union. There are two names representing just 18 counties: Clay and Montgomery. And no 19-county groups.
At exactly 20 counties we have just one name: Madison. There's a wee gap, then two names with 24 counties each: Jackson and Lincoln. Tied for third place at 26 countiess each are Franklin and Jefferson; though Franklin is one of those cases where Virginia has a county and an independent city by the same name. But of course, and this can't be a surprise given my previous essay on this subject, holding the top spot is Washington at 30 states. Count 'em: Alaska, Arizona, Colorado, Florida, Illinois, Indiana, Iowa, Kansas, Kentucky, Louisiana, Maine, Maryland, Minnesota, Mississippi, Missouri, Nebraska, New York, North Carolina, Ohio, Oklahoma, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, Tennessee, Texas, Utah, Vermont, Virginia and Wisconsin. I should have listed the states that don't have a Washington County, but it's too late now!
I glanced at the derivation of many of the names in passing, and there are some surprises, such as a whole group of counties in Michigan whose names were made up by Henry Schoolcraft on purpose to be unique, and perhaps also to pass them off as Native American lingo. He's the same guy who gave us "Itasca" for the headwaters of the Mississippi River, based on the Latin phrase "veritas caput," though to this day there are people who cite it as a Native American word.
Many of the unique county names are genuine Native American words, though, or at least corruptions of them, which along with misspellings or corruptions of French and Spanish terms and even anglo names just show how fallible human beings are, especially in large groups such as a state legislature. And there are several instances where tiny differences of spelling separate essentially the same name into separate entries on this list, such as Cheboygan (MI) vs. Sheboygan (WI). There are Allegan (MI), Allegany (MD, NY), Allegheny (PA) and Alleghany (NC, VA); Andrew (MO) and Andrews (TX); Burnet (TX) and Burnett (WI); Callaway (MO) and Calloway (KY); Cook (GA, IL, MN) and Cooke (TX); Glascock (GA) and Glasscock (TX); Hayes (NE) and Hays (TX); Highland (OH, VA) and Highlands (FL); Hot Spring (AR) and Hot Springs (WY); Kearney (NE) and Kearny (KS); Leflore (MS) and LeFlore (OK); Loudon (TN) and Loudoun (VA); Pottawatomie (KS, OK) and Pottawattamie (IA); Storey (NV) and Story (IA); Uinta (WY) and Uintah (UT); Vermilion (IL) and the directly adjacent Vermillion (IN), Wyandot (OH) and Wyandotte (KS).
In other cases, similar county names are really unrelated, but though spelled differently, they're pronounced about the same, such as Aiken (SC) vs. Aitkin (MN), which has a silent t; Barber (KS) vs. Barbour (AL, WV); Barren (KS) and Barron (WI); Coffey (KS) vs. Coffee (AL, GA, TN); Coal (OK), Cole (MO) and Coles (IN); Coos (NH, OR) and Coosa (AL); Dickson (TN) and Dixon (NE); Foard (TX) and Ford (IL, KS); Forest (PA, WI) and Forrest (MS); Green (KY, WI) and Greene (14 states); Harford (MD) and Hartford (CT); Huntingdon (PA) and Huntington (IN), not to mention Hunterdon (NJ); Johnson (13 states) and Johnston (NC); Kewaunee (WI) and Keweenaw (MI); Kimball (NE) and Kimble (TX); Linn (IA, KS, MO, OR) and Lynn (TX); Stafford (KS, VA) and Strafford (NH); Tooele (UT) and Toole (MT).
On the other hand, there are also county names that are externally different but, secretly, named after the same things, such as Berks (PA) and Berkshire (MA); Buckingham (VA) and Bucks (PA); Charlotte (FL, VA) and Mecklenburg (NC, VA), etc. Several county names memorialize people by both their first and last name, such as Charles Mix (SD); Jo Daviess (IL), also the namesake of three Daviess counties (IN, KY, MO); Deaf Smith (TX); Jim Hogg (TX); Jim Wells (TX); and Tom Green (TX).
Louisiana has three pairs of parishes with the same name except either "East" or "West": East Baton Rouge and West Baton Rouge, East Carroll and West Carroll, East Feliciana and West Feliciana. Some of Virginia's independent cities have the same name as a Virginia county. Awkwardly, two or three of Virginia's actual counties have the word "City" in their name. Other independent cities, outside of Virginia, include St. Louis (MO), Carson City (NV) and Baltimore (MD); both Missouri and Maryland also have counties by the same name. Don't get me started on cities and counties with unified governments!
Quite a few counties share their names with a state of the U.S. Surprisingly few of them are within the state so named. They include Arkansas (AR), Colorado (TX), Delaware (IN, IA, NY, OH, OK, PA), Hawai'i (HI), Indiana (PA), Iowa (IA, WI), Mississippi (AR, MO), Nevada (AR, CA), New York (NY), Ohio (IN, KY, WV), Oklahoma (OK), Oregon (MO), Texas (MO, OK), Utah (UT) and Wyoming (NY, PA, WV). Arguably, you could also include Dakota (MN), Hampshire (MA, WV), Jersey (IL) and York (KY, NE, PA, SC, VA). And of course there are those 30 Washington counties across the country, right?
Quite a few counties share the same opening move, such as Grand Forks (ND), Grand Isle (VT) and Grand Traverse (MI); Green Lake (WI), Greenbrier (WV), Greenlee (AZ), Greenup (KY), Greenville (SC) and Greenwood (KS); King and Queen (VA), King George (VA), King William (VA), Kingfisher (OK), Kingman (KS) and Kingsbury (SD); La Crosse (WI), La Paz (AZ), La Plata (CO), Labette (KS), Laclede (MO), Lafourche (LA), LaGrange (IN), Lamoille (VT), LaMoure (ND), LaPorte (IN) and LaRue (KY); McClain (OK), McCone (MT), McCook (SD), McCormick (SC), McCracken (KY), McCreary (KY), McCulloch (TX), McCurtain (OK), McDonald (MO), McDonough (IL), McDowell (NC, WV), McDuffie (GA), McHenry (IL, ND), McIntosh (GA, ND, OK); McKean (PA), McKenzie (ND), McKinley (NM), McLean (IL, KY, ND), McLennan (TX), McLeod (MN), McMinn (TN), McMullen (TX), McNairy (TN) and McPherson (KS, NE, SD); San Augustine (TX), San Benito (CA), San Bernardino (CA), San Diego (CA), San Francisco (CA), San Jacinto (TX), San Joaquin (CA), San Juan (CO, NM, UT, WA), San Luis Obispo (CA), San Mateo (CA), San Miguel (CO, NM), San Patricio (TX) and San Saba (TX); St. Charles (LA, MO), St. Clair (AL, IL, MI, MO), Ste. Genevieve (MO), St. Joseph (IN, MI), St. Louis (MN and both a county and an independent city in MO), St. Bernard (LA), St. Croix (WI), St. Francis (AR), St. Francois (MO), St. Helena (LA), St. James (LA), St. John the Baptist (LA), St. Johns (FL), St. Landry (LA), St. Lawrence (NY), St. Lucie (FL), St. Martin (LA), St. Mary (LA), St. Mary's (MD) and St. Tammany (LA); Wood (OH, TX, WV, WI), Woodbury (IA), Woodford (IL, KY), Woodruff (AR), Woods (OK), Woodson (KS) and Woodward (OK); and a partridge in a pear tree!
If I've forgotten to mention anything remotely interesting, it's no fault of mine. I've worked hard enough and long enough on this to get on with my life now. Are you still here? If so, thanks for bearing with my insanity!
NOTE: I hope Drew Durnil doesn't mind me using his map of the instances of Washington County in the U.S., which I found on his Reddit. I have enjoyed quite a few of his videos on YouTube. Apparently we both have a bit of the same sickness. Another note: I'm including Louisiana parishes, Alaska boroughs and independent cities (of which Virginia has quite a few) in this list, since they're county-equivalent, second-level divisions after the states themselves.
So here's the damage. Counting variant spellings, and allowing for a margin for error in my vast task, I found 1,809 distinct county names in the U.S. The majority by far – 1,379 of them – are one-offs, which I'm obviously not going to list in full even though some of them are quite interesting. They range alphabetically from Abbeville (SC) to Ziebach (SD). There are 225 pairs of two counties with the same name, alphabetically from Albany (NY, WY) to Yuma (AZ, CO). There are 85 triples, from Baker to Wyoming; 138 foursomes, from Adair to Wood; 19 groups of five counties sharing names from Allen to York; 16 groups of six counties with names from Custer to Webster; only four groups of seven (Howard, Lewis, Pulaski and Richland); 11 groups of eight, from Boone to Randolph; and seven groups of nine counties sharing names from Benton to Shelby.
Breaking into two digits, we find six names shared by 10 counties: Hamilton, Hancock, Henry, Logan, Perry and Pike. If you're playing one of those Sporcle puzzles where you have to name all the counties in a state, these are all very good guesses; they'll be right one-fifth of the time. They get better from here. There are six names shared by 11 counties each: Calhoun, Crawford, Fayette, Lawrence, Morgan and Scott. (The variant Lafayette accounts for another six counties.) The seven names shared by 12 counties each are Adams, Clark (with no e; Clarke is in the five-county bracket), Douglas, Lake, Lee, Marshall and Polk. Only three names are distributed among 13 counties each: Carroll, Johnson and Warren. Greene (with an e) is the only name shared by exactly 14 counties. At 15, there are only two: Grant and Wayne. There are no 16-county name groups. The three names for groups of 17 counties are Marion, Monroe and Union. There are two names representing just 18 counties: Clay and Montgomery. And no 19-county groups.
At exactly 20 counties we have just one name: Madison. There's a wee gap, then two names with 24 counties each: Jackson and Lincoln. Tied for third place at 26 countiess each are Franklin and Jefferson; though Franklin is one of those cases where Virginia has a county and an independent city by the same name. But of course, and this can't be a surprise given my previous essay on this subject, holding the top spot is Washington at 30 states. Count 'em: Alaska, Arizona, Colorado, Florida, Illinois, Indiana, Iowa, Kansas, Kentucky, Louisiana, Maine, Maryland, Minnesota, Mississippi, Missouri, Nebraska, New York, North Carolina, Ohio, Oklahoma, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, Tennessee, Texas, Utah, Vermont, Virginia and Wisconsin. I should have listed the states that don't have a Washington County, but it's too late now!
I glanced at the derivation of many of the names in passing, and there are some surprises, such as a whole group of counties in Michigan whose names were made up by Henry Schoolcraft on purpose to be unique, and perhaps also to pass them off as Native American lingo. He's the same guy who gave us "Itasca" for the headwaters of the Mississippi River, based on the Latin phrase "veritas caput," though to this day there are people who cite it as a Native American word.
Many of the unique county names are genuine Native American words, though, or at least corruptions of them, which along with misspellings or corruptions of French and Spanish terms and even anglo names just show how fallible human beings are, especially in large groups such as a state legislature. And there are several instances where tiny differences of spelling separate essentially the same name into separate entries on this list, such as Cheboygan (MI) vs. Sheboygan (WI). There are Allegan (MI), Allegany (MD, NY), Allegheny (PA) and Alleghany (NC, VA); Andrew (MO) and Andrews (TX); Burnet (TX) and Burnett (WI); Callaway (MO) and Calloway (KY); Cook (GA, IL, MN) and Cooke (TX); Glascock (GA) and Glasscock (TX); Hayes (NE) and Hays (TX); Highland (OH, VA) and Highlands (FL); Hot Spring (AR) and Hot Springs (WY); Kearney (NE) and Kearny (KS); Leflore (MS) and LeFlore (OK); Loudon (TN) and Loudoun (VA); Pottawatomie (KS, OK) and Pottawattamie (IA); Storey (NV) and Story (IA); Uinta (WY) and Uintah (UT); Vermilion (IL) and the directly adjacent Vermillion (IN), Wyandot (OH) and Wyandotte (KS).
In other cases, similar county names are really unrelated, but though spelled differently, they're pronounced about the same, such as Aiken (SC) vs. Aitkin (MN), which has a silent t; Barber (KS) vs. Barbour (AL, WV); Barren (KS) and Barron (WI); Coffey (KS) vs. Coffee (AL, GA, TN); Coal (OK), Cole (MO) and Coles (IN); Coos (NH, OR) and Coosa (AL); Dickson (TN) and Dixon (NE); Foard (TX) and Ford (IL, KS); Forest (PA, WI) and Forrest (MS); Green (KY, WI) and Greene (14 states); Harford (MD) and Hartford (CT); Huntingdon (PA) and Huntington (IN), not to mention Hunterdon (NJ); Johnson (13 states) and Johnston (NC); Kewaunee (WI) and Keweenaw (MI); Kimball (NE) and Kimble (TX); Linn (IA, KS, MO, OR) and Lynn (TX); Stafford (KS, VA) and Strafford (NH); Tooele (UT) and Toole (MT).
On the other hand, there are also county names that are externally different but, secretly, named after the same things, such as Berks (PA) and Berkshire (MA); Buckingham (VA) and Bucks (PA); Charlotte (FL, VA) and Mecklenburg (NC, VA), etc. Several county names memorialize people by both their first and last name, such as Charles Mix (SD); Jo Daviess (IL), also the namesake of three Daviess counties (IN, KY, MO); Deaf Smith (TX); Jim Hogg (TX); Jim Wells (TX); and Tom Green (TX).
Louisiana has three pairs of parishes with the same name except either "East" or "West": East Baton Rouge and West Baton Rouge, East Carroll and West Carroll, East Feliciana and West Feliciana. Some of Virginia's independent cities have the same name as a Virginia county. Awkwardly, two or three of Virginia's actual counties have the word "City" in their name. Other independent cities, outside of Virginia, include St. Louis (MO), Carson City (NV) and Baltimore (MD); both Missouri and Maryland also have counties by the same name. Don't get me started on cities and counties with unified governments!
Quite a few counties share their names with a state of the U.S. Surprisingly few of them are within the state so named. They include Arkansas (AR), Colorado (TX), Delaware (IN, IA, NY, OH, OK, PA), Hawai'i (HI), Indiana (PA), Iowa (IA, WI), Mississippi (AR, MO), Nevada (AR, CA), New York (NY), Ohio (IN, KY, WV), Oklahoma (OK), Oregon (MO), Texas (MO, OK), Utah (UT) and Wyoming (NY, PA, WV). Arguably, you could also include Dakota (MN), Hampshire (MA, WV), Jersey (IL) and York (KY, NE, PA, SC, VA). And of course there are those 30 Washington counties across the country, right?
Quite a few counties share the same opening move, such as Grand Forks (ND), Grand Isle (VT) and Grand Traverse (MI); Green Lake (WI), Greenbrier (WV), Greenlee (AZ), Greenup (KY), Greenville (SC) and Greenwood (KS); King and Queen (VA), King George (VA), King William (VA), Kingfisher (OK), Kingman (KS) and Kingsbury (SD); La Crosse (WI), La Paz (AZ), La Plata (CO), Labette (KS), Laclede (MO), Lafourche (LA), LaGrange (IN), Lamoille (VT), LaMoure (ND), LaPorte (IN) and LaRue (KY); McClain (OK), McCone (MT), McCook (SD), McCormick (SC), McCracken (KY), McCreary (KY), McCulloch (TX), McCurtain (OK), McDonald (MO), McDonough (IL), McDowell (NC, WV), McDuffie (GA), McHenry (IL, ND), McIntosh (GA, ND, OK); McKean (PA), McKenzie (ND), McKinley (NM), McLean (IL, KY, ND), McLennan (TX), McLeod (MN), McMinn (TN), McMullen (TX), McNairy (TN) and McPherson (KS, NE, SD); San Augustine (TX), San Benito (CA), San Bernardino (CA), San Diego (CA), San Francisco (CA), San Jacinto (TX), San Joaquin (CA), San Juan (CO, NM, UT, WA), San Luis Obispo (CA), San Mateo (CA), San Miguel (CO, NM), San Patricio (TX) and San Saba (TX); St. Charles (LA, MO), St. Clair (AL, IL, MI, MO), Ste. Genevieve (MO), St. Joseph (IN, MI), St. Louis (MN and both a county and an independent city in MO), St. Bernard (LA), St. Croix (WI), St. Francis (AR), St. Francois (MO), St. Helena (LA), St. James (LA), St. John the Baptist (LA), St. Johns (FL), St. Landry (LA), St. Lawrence (NY), St. Lucie (FL), St. Martin (LA), St. Mary (LA), St. Mary's (MD) and St. Tammany (LA); Wood (OH, TX, WV, WI), Woodbury (IA), Woodford (IL, KY), Woodruff (AR), Woods (OK), Woodson (KS) and Woodward (OK); and a partridge in a pear tree!
If I've forgotten to mention anything remotely interesting, it's no fault of mine. I've worked hard enough and long enough on this to get on with my life now. Are you still here? If so, thanks for bearing with my insanity!
Tuesday, December 26, 2023
State Flags, You're Welcome (Part 3)
Wrapping up my proposed redesigns of various state flags of the U.S., which nobody asked me for ... here's where Oklahoma is currently at:
Not bad, but it could be better:
Possibly the absolute worst out of all 50 states' flags, here's Oregon on the "obvserse" (i.e. front) side:
It actually has this on the reverse side, and a good start might be just to go with this image on both sides:
Pennsylvania takes us back to the hackneyed theme of a state seal on a blue field:
Also just a start, but applying a lighter shade of blue (eyedroppered from the sky inside the shield):
South Dakota as is, with too much unnecessary verbiage:
South Dakota as could be, with the state motto visualized:
Vermont as is:
Vermont, with less chit-chat, less blue and a bit simpler: Virginia, with the state's name boldly and unnecessarily spelled out: And without: Washington, with a state seal that pedantically tells you what it is: And now without the painfully obvious: Wisconsin, all obnoxious: And now, only somewhat obnoxious, but still crying out for improvement: And finally, West Virginia: And again, without the painfully obvious: Again, I'm just proposing a modest start toward making state flags start to act like flags. More could probably done, if these states took their symbolism back to the drawing board. Fewer blue fields, people! Less bold, block text spelling out what shouldn't have to be spelled out! And maybe fewer fiddly details that are hard to distinguish at a distance, or reproduce in a sixth-grader's hand with colored pencils on paper! Then we'd really be cooking, eh?
Vermont, with less chit-chat, less blue and a bit simpler: Virginia, with the state's name boldly and unnecessarily spelled out: And without: Washington, with a state seal that pedantically tells you what it is: And now without the painfully obvious: Wisconsin, all obnoxious: And now, only somewhat obnoxious, but still crying out for improvement: And finally, West Virginia: And again, without the painfully obvious: Again, I'm just proposing a modest start toward making state flags start to act like flags. More could probably done, if these states took their symbolism back to the drawing board. Fewer blue fields, people! Less bold, block text spelling out what shouldn't have to be spelled out! And maybe fewer fiddly details that are hard to distinguish at a distance, or reproduce in a sixth-grader's hand with colored pencils on paper! Then we'd really be cooking, eh?
Friday, December 22, 2023
State Flags, You're Welcome (Part 2)
We resume with the existing flag of my most recent, former home state, Missouri:
... which could stand to be a little simpler, maybe like this:
Returning to the oft-whistled theme of a state seal-type illustration on a blue field, with a dead giveaway in block letters, is Montana's flag:
Now a little less on-the-nose (and not so lost in a sea of dark blue):
My sometime home state of Nebraska's flag is about as ugly as they come:
I've always fantasized about replacing that nondescript cameo with the silhouette depicted on Nebraska's state highway signs:
... which, with a little colorization, might look something like this:
Then there's New Hampshire, currently very forgettable and same-old, same-old:
... but potentially more striking, though it might make better sense if that land mass continued to the left:
In New Jersey, the situation is less dire, thanks to a more distinctive background color:
... but it could perhaps be improved by making the imagery easier to see from a distance:
In New York, the situation flies thus:
... but it could fly thus, a bit more simple and readily visible:
In my native state of Nevada, this flag doesn't need too much work:
How about this tiny tweak?
North Carolina is another one that overexplains, with too many dates and a dead giveaway "NC":
I'd like to keep that gold color in there, though. So, how about some rings?
North Dakota again is "one of those":
One way to improve it might be simply to cut the painfully obvious bit out:
Or, once again, you could start with the state highway sign silhouette:
... and go flat-out with it:
That's enough for Part 2. Part 3 to come yet, maybe after Christmas!
Thursday, December 21, 2023
State Flags, You're Welcome (Part 1)
Further to this four-part series of posts way back here, I've gone ahead and done what nobody asked me to ... whipped up some concepts for improving some of the state flags of the U.S. that could use some improvement. Mind you, I'm totally unqualified and a lazy Photoshop user who follows the path of least effort, but even so, I think I came up with some ideas worth tossing around, if not out. My immediate inspiration is the current flag redesign of my state of residence, Minnesota, which went from this hot mess:
to this elegantly simple design, that any child could draw, anyone with a needle and thread could sew, and anyone could point out of a line-up of state flags and recognize at once as Minnesota:
Skipping over the flags that I don't think I can improve on at the present – including the fairly recently updated flags of Mississippi and Utah, as well as a couple of flags (cough Florida and Alabama) that just need to go back to the drawing board – here are some before-and-afters that I'd like folks to consider as tiny steps toward the ultimate goal of every state having a flag that does what a flag should do. Which means, for one thing, NOT having the name of the state spelled out in great big, block letters!
Here's the flag of Arkansas:
Here's exactly the same flag, but without the painfully obvious. Also, I pushed the middle two stars a little farther apart, feeling that they looked crowded, but still with an eye toward preserving the diamond shape befitting the diamond state. Too naked looking, yet? Maybe the stars could be spaced out even better.
Here's the "California Republic" flag.
And here it is again, without the text that no one needs to identify it as the flag of California, and with the red stripe widened a bit to balance it out:
How about Delaware? Awfully proud of their date of statehood, aren't they?
And now, without that ugly line of text, and it might be even better with the interesting bit blown up in proportion:
Idaho's flag is just ridiculous, spelling out the name of the state not once but twice:
This is just a beginning of what I'd like to propose, maybe extending the landscape (and not just the sky) behind the Great Seal images to the edges of the flag:
Illinois is one of my least favorite state flags, with upside-down text, two dates, and ugly little blades of grass:
Here it is without the images that especially irritate me, though it still leaves much to be desired:
Indiana's flag has just one tiny thing that irritates me:
Can you spot the difference without it?
Iowa has more of what Illinois suffers from:
Just imagine it like this:
...or even this: The name of Kansas hits you in the eye, but the picture it mansplains doesn't: Some guy named Steve Hamaker proposed this improvement: ...which I took even further: Here's Kentucky's flag as it is: And here's Kentucky as it could be, appealing a little more to the eye: Here's Maine, for another hard-to-distinguish-at-a-distance state seal on a blue field: And here's my favorite part of the Maine flag, with space cleared around it to bring it into better focus: One of these days, people are going to start calling the Massachusetts flag "problematic": This should clear it up: Michigan has at least two too many Latin exercises embroidered on its flag: Here it is again, pared down a bit: I've got more to share, but this post has gone long enough for now. Part 2 yet to come!
...or even this: The name of Kansas hits you in the eye, but the picture it mansplains doesn't: Some guy named Steve Hamaker proposed this improvement: ...which I took even further: Here's Kentucky's flag as it is: And here's Kentucky as it could be, appealing a little more to the eye: Here's Maine, for another hard-to-distinguish-at-a-distance state seal on a blue field: And here's my favorite part of the Maine flag, with space cleared around it to bring it into better focus: One of these days, people are going to start calling the Massachusetts flag "problematic": This should clear it up: Michigan has at least two too many Latin exercises embroidered on its flag: Here it is again, pared down a bit: I've got more to share, but this post has gone long enough for now. Part 2 yet to come!
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