Let's Just Name Every Mountain, School, and Body of Water in the Country After Ken Griffey, Jr.
The only logical solution
The White House has declared that the Gulf of Mexico is now the Gulf of America, and Denali is once again Mount McKinley. Which raises the question: Whatever happened to “freedom fries”? Remember how — when, in the runup to the Iraq War, the French were being more French than usual — Congress declared that potatoes cooked in oil were henceforth “freedom fries”?1 Because I’ll be honest: I must have racked up millions if not billions of dollars in fines over the years calling them “french fries”. There’s a sports bar near my house whose owner should probably get the electric chair, because they have like 20 different types of fries, all of them labeled “french” in blatant defiance of federal law.
Trump’s order is just the latest salvo in the culture war over naming things. No one can remember who fired the first shot in this war, though we all recall the left’s massive spring 2020 offensive, when they tried to rechristen all things named for “problematic” people, which included basically everyone who ever lived. Renaming things is the perfect culture war issue because it: 1) Clearly signals which side you’re on, and 2) Does absolutely fucking nothing to improve anyone’s life. And that’s probably why the soldiers in this war fight with a religious fervor that rivals that of the Crusaders.
Where does this end? Is that big lump of ice up in Alaska going to ping pong back and forth every time the White House changes hands? Is this some sinister, Rand McNally-backed conspiracy to make us buy new atlases and elementary school maps every few years? We have to break this cycle. And I think the solution is obvious: We must name every conceivable thing in this country that needs naming — every mountain, school, body of water, and beyond — after baseball legend Ken Griffey, Jr. Only then will our nation begin to heal.
My case is simple: Ken Griffey, Jr. was a true five-tool player and the best ballplayer of the ‘90s. In an era plagued by steroids and scandal, Griffey stayed clean. He played the game with passion and joy and is from an all-American baseball family that includes several veterans. Any reasonable person can agree: Ken Griffey, Jr. kicks ass. So, let’s end this culture forever-war and just name everything after Griffey.
In this scenario, Mount McKinley/Denali becomes Mount Griffey. If fans of the 25th president and/or the Koyukon people don’t like that, then they can hit 630 home runs while playing a Gold Glove center field, and then we’ll talk. The nation’s highest peak becomes Mount Griffey, our largest river becomes the Griffissippi, and our largest lake becomes Lake Kensperior, Junior. Do you find that confusing? I’ll admit it’s a little confusing. But it’s much less confusing than having every fucking landmark in the country change names twice a decade based on which side currently has the upper hand in the Vibe War.
School are easy: First, you attend Ken Griffey, Jr. school, and then Ken Griffey school, and grades 9-12 are Ken Griffey, Sr. school. Granted, I’m breaking my own rule by renaming high school for the older Griffey, but I think that should be allowed because Griffey, Sr. was a big part of the Big Red Machine teams of the ‘70s and almost won a batting title in 1976. Every airport will be a combination of “Griffey” and the city name, as in: “The flight from Griffey Boston to Griffey Detroit takes about two hours”. If a city has more than one airport, then the differentiating factor will be its primary dining options. So, for example, airports serving Chicago will include “Griffey Chicago Chili’s/Duncan/Jamba Juice” (formerly “O’Hare”) and “Griffey Chicago Einstein Brothers/Panera/Pret a Manger” (formerly “Midway”). This is slightly cumbersome but includes information that most of us want when choosing which airport to fly into anyway.
Is this a perfect system? Look: Nothing’s a perfect system. But I’d argue that it’s better than our current system of using buildings and landmarks to mark territory in the culture war like a dog pissing on a shrub. It’s just too confusing. I mean: I would never name anything after a Confederate general — Confederates are consummate losers who fought for one of the worst causes in history, like if the Buffalo Bills stood for female genital mutilation — but even I’ll admit that Northern Virginia has become unnavigable since all the street names changed overnight. My sister lives in Alexandria — I haven’t seen her in years because I no longer have any fucking idea where her house is.
My proposal is merely that: a proposal. I’m open to other ideas, such as naming everything in the country after Frank Thomas or Cal Ripken, Jr. Some might argue that we should name everything after Tony Gwynn, but let’s be adults, shall we? Gwynn was a great player, but modern statistics show that contact hitters don’t add win shares the way that power hitters do. We’re hardly going to name aircraft carriers and federal buildings after a guy whose best season by fWAR was 2.3 wins lower than Griffey’s best season. Once again, I love Tony Gwynn, first-ballot Hall of Famer for sure, but grow the fuck up.
And anyone saying the name “Barry Bonds” can kindly get the fuck back to Russia.
I will vote for any candidate who vows to end this endless back-and-forth by taking the Griffey option. On day one, the president should sign an executive order that names everything after Griffey, with violations punishable by death. This would be substantially less dumb than what we do now. Things need permanent names, and if that name honors a true natural with a sweet swing who out-slugged many of the roided out freaks of ‘90s baseball, then all the better.
No, that is not still in effect — Congress quietly admitted that was retarded back in 2006.
Henceforth this President will be called a consummate Griffey-ter.
No. Have you thought about what madness and confusion would stem from renaming Griffith Observatory to Griffey Observatory?