Johnny-on-the-Spot … by John Foster …

Well, President Trump has stirred up his “less-than-fans’ legions” with the renaming of Lake Ontario to Lake America.

It’s all tied into the trade and tariffs tiff between us (U.S.) and our neighbors to the north.

This was after the decision to rename the Gulf of Mexico the Gulf of America, which only applies in the U.S. also.

His executive order was a way to “restore American pride” and celebrate U.S sovereignty over its coastal resources.

To be perfectly honest with you, I felt no swelling of pride in my “ticker”

I’m not quite sure what the hub bub is all about though.

I’ve been annoyed for way too long by “Canadian” geese crapping everywhere they land and honking as they fly away.

Comedian Ron White says the U-S. should focus the building of “illegal immigration walls” along the U.S./Canadian border to keep the birds from illegally migrating south.

I’ve sipped Canadian Dry and I’ve ingested hundred of Canadian soldiers (mayflies) while on and near Lake Erie.

At times they appear to be ranks of military personnel advancing.

They only live 1 to 3 days but the fact that they need clean, oxygen-rich water to survive water indicated Lake Erie is not the filthy cesspool some would like you to believe.

These harmless insects emerge in huge summer swarms, large enough to even show up on weather radar and delay or postpone sporting events.

But north of the border, the locals call ’em American soldiers.

It’s all about perspective and geography.

So this “name” thing is not all that unusual.

Now, the same cannot be said for the other “name changes” we’ve experienced in recent years.

The one that stuck close to home for me was changing the long-time mascot of the Cleveland Major League Baseball team from “Indians” to “Guardians”.

I even had my wife make me a special t-shirt that combined the two logos and I named the team, “The GuardIndians”.

For those who were “offended” by the “Chief Wahoo” logo, I found a t-shirt that replaced him with an “Opie Taylor-looking”: character.

The rest of the logo looked the same but the name was changed to the “Cleveland Caucasians”.

I wasn’t offended.

The real problem is with people being too thin-skinned these days.

Therefore “political correctness” reigns.

(I think it should be political wimpiness.)

We lost Aunt Jemima to the Pearl Milling Company in 2021 and Uncle Ben’s Rice became Ben’s Original in 2020.

Long before then, the Stanford Indians switched to the Stanford Cardinal in 1972.

Cardinal.

The color not the bird.

A student vote in 1930 chose “Indian” as the athletic nickname until a protest was started by Native American students in the early 70’s.

The current logo has a block “S” with an iconic redwood tree.

In 1975, at a band halftime show, members jokingly paraded alternative mascot ideas (a French fry and a steaming manhole cover”) but the Stanford Tree won.

Each year a new student is chosen to play the “Tree” through a rigorous selection process and designs their own unique, handcrafted costume.

We will never go “full-circle” on this matter until the Redwood “tree huggers” protest that the current Stanford tree mascot does not reflect the true, majestic image of the tree.

Many of thee recent name-changes were made because the old ones were connected to individuals that lost the Civil War

Jefferson Davis Highway, Fort Bragg, Fort Hood to name a few.

When my wife and I were first married, we lived off-base in Selma, Alabama in “NBF” housing.

The “NBF” was for Nathan Bedford Forrest, a Confederate general.

Union General William Tecumseh Sherman said Forrest “was the most remarkable man our Civil War produced on either side.”

BUT, Forrest was a pre-war slave trader and after the war was involved with the Ku Klux Klan

.Now, some of these “name changes” are simply stupid.

“Justice-involved person” for inmate or felon.

“Chest-feeding” for breast feeding..

“”Primary bedroom” replace Master bedroom.

No more “manholes”. They’re “utility holes”.

Or “person holes”.

I’m sure if I called my Mom a “birthing person” instead of a Mother, I’d have to duck real fast.

Come on America!

My name is John but I’ve been called “:John Doo Doo”, “Johnny”, “Little John”, and “Gooner” to name a few.

My dear friend Sam Simmermaker has calld me “Buck” since I first met him more than 30 years ago.

I’ve always said, “I don’t care what you call me, just don’t call me late for dinner.