There’s a show on (or at least there was a show on (or maybe it’s still going (whatever))) called How the States Got Their Shapes. I’m pretty certain that the premise of this show was explaining why states are shaped so oddly. But what I want to know is, why were they named so oddly? Sure, stuff like Maryland makes sense. Clearly some important painting of St. Mary fell from an airplane and landed there. Mary-land, simple. But what about California, where did that come from? Beyond states, what about simple cities? Or even specific locations. Mt. Rushmore? Jersey Shore? The Gulf of Mexico (what’s up with that)?

There’s a certain place that brings these thoughts to my mind. It’s called Taquamenon Falls. I know what you’re wondering, “Tahquame-Whuh?”. Allow me to elaborate. Tahquamenon falls are a pair of waterfalls located deep in camping territory in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, and they mean a lot to me. Not literally, I have no clue what “Tahquamenon” translates to in English. Actually, I’m fairly confident it’s not part of any language. You heard me, I bet it was gibberish even to the people that named it. “Why then, would someone name a place that?” you ask? Because, obviously, the Native Americans near there hated the settlers. Why else would they call it that? No human being in their right mind would come up with such a hard to pronounce name for such a popular site without a good reason. Think of all the problems such a name would bring . . . (harp chord playing) . . .

“Hey Swims In River, you wanna set-um traps up by Tah-ki-wua-moo-non falls?”

“By what?”

“Tah-kwoo-ahmen-non falls.”

“What?”

“Tuh-kwa-muh-noun-fa-OH FORGET IT!!”

“That last time we let Drinks-um Pool Water name-um stuff.”

See? Totally unrealistic, right? The must have had a good reason for the nutty name, and what better reason than to keep those stupid settlers away? Would you move to a place with a crazy Indian name? What?! What do you mean you wouldn’t care?!? I don’t think you’re visualizing this right. Let me enlighten you.

Imagine that your cousin Phil just moved to the Upper Peninsula and set up a claim. You want to invite Phil to the annual rodeo at your barn, so you write him a good long letter, dotting all your i’s and crossing all your t’s. Now, you start to address the envelope when you suddenly realize that you don’t know how to spell the name of the place he’s moved to. You give it your best shot, but as you tuck it into the mailbox you realize in the back of your head that the odds would have been better for you if you had just tried tattooing the message onto the back of a migratory bird and crossed your fingers.

Time goes on, and eventually Phill wonders why he hasn’t gotten an invite to the annual rodeo. He starts to get paranoid. What if you don’t want him there anymore? What if you’re tired of how he drinks all the punch and then passes out in the horse’s stall? What if you’re trying to keep Phil away so you can make a move on his childhood sweetheart Samantha Smith?!? He can’t have that! Quickly, Phil packs up and leaves to proclaim his devotion before it’s too late.

Over on a distant hilltop, watching Phil with beady eyes, are two Native Americans. The one named Hold’em-um Fold ‘um says to the other.

“Me told-um you, Bets The Farm. Pale Face not last two weeks. You owe-um me a buck.”

Do you understand what I’m trying to say? YOU COULDN’T MAKE IT UP THERE!! THOSE INDIANS WERE TOO SMART FOR YOU!! Are we all on the same page? Good, conundrum solved. Moving on.