Name game fun, but could be profitable too

The Legislature and the governor changed the name of King County last week in a way that’s symbolic, even though most of us won’t notice. Instead of being named for Rufus King, the state’s largest county is now officially named for Martin Luther King Jr.

This is great for several reasons. First, it’s easier to remember one of the great activists of the 20th century than one of the more obscure vice presidents of the 19th century. Quick, who was president when Rufus King was vice president?

Franklin Pierce. (Yeah, we had to look it up, too.)

It’s also good because for whatever his good points, and people rarely get to be vice president without at least one or two commendable qualities, Rufus King was a slave owner. And Martin Luther King Jr. was 180 degrees away from that.

But the best thing about the decision – which admittedly was made years ago by King County officials, and the Lege and gov are just catching up to – is that the change won’t cost anything. No new stationery, no new county seal, no new signs for county buildings.

So it got folks at The Spokesman-Review (the folks who obviously have too much time on their hands) thinking about what other counties might get in on this deal and maybe even capitalize on some naming rights. Obviously, counties like Spokane and Klickitat and Yakima are out of luck, because they are derivatives of Native American words, and not subject to picking up new meanings at a whim.

But what about Clark County? It’s named for half of the exploring duo that is being treated to bicentennial celebrations right now. But in a few years, Lewis and Clark will go back to being pretty pedestrian. So maybe the folks in and around Vancouver could sell the naming rights to Dick Clark, who was a pathfinder in his own right, with rock ‘n’ roll and television.

Whitman County could get even more commercial, and sell the naming rights to the chocolate manufacturers who make the Whitman sampler.

And Pierce County, named for the guy on the ticket with Rufus King. It could be switched to Benjamin Franklin “Hawkeye” Pierce, the main character in “M*A*S*H.” Some might argue that’s too obscure, but think about it: How many of you can hum “Suicide is Painless,” the theme song to “M*A*S*H”? How many could pick Pierce out of a mug shot lineup of presidents between Jackson and Lincoln?

There’s probably no law requiring the counties to carry only last names, so the folks in Stevens County could offer their rights up to someone with that first name, as long as they spell it with a “v” not a “ph” and are willing to go around and paint apostrophes on buildings and county cars.

Or to be proper names at all, although Ferry County folks are probably out of luck because even though Washington has one of the biggest ferry systems in the world, its marketing budget probably doesn’t include money for naming rights on this side of the state.

Speaking of naming rights

Could someone please come up with a new name for Phase I, the building over at Riverpoint where the congressional task force on the National Environmental Policy Act held its hearing? Most buildings are named for an inspirational person or a defining function. This seems tied to a transitory time period. (If John Q. Phase II paid for the naming rights to honor his late father, we apologize.)

An annoying development

It’s clear that the Republicans and some of their allies are unhappy with Christine Gregoire snatching victory from the jaws of defeat in the governor’s race. They are suing, after all, and if the courts agree with them, Washington will get a new election or a new governor or both.

But some of that disgruntlement has recently turned churlish. Take for example Tim Eyman’s recent e-mail that refers to her as “Governor-for-now.”

Then there was the press release from Americans for Tax Reform, a group headed by conservative Republican maestro Grover Norquist, that decried proposed tax increases in Washington state. That’s their shtick, so the complaint isn’t surprising.

But they didn’t have to put quotes around governor every time they referred to Gregoire.

Tacky, gentlemen. Tacky.