Where Did You Say We Were?

I’m willing to bet that many of the places in the world are named after what happened there. Take, for example, “Burnt Land Creek”.
I’m thinking that at one time there was a fire?
Or Hungry Horse, Montana? If you ever get too big for your britches, might I recommend a visit to the Great State of Montana? Montana is, as they say, “Big Sky” country; and they’re absolutely right about that. Your concerns are very small when faced by the bigness (bigocity? biggitude?) of the Rocky Mountains.
And how about the inexplicably named “Ham Lake, Minnesota”?
Ham Lake: as in “I do not want to swim in Ham Lake.”
I like the idea of places being named after what happened there, though; and I think we should carry on with that naming convention.
As has been established, I live in Minneapolis. Most everything that needs it has already been named, but I think I’ve identified some places that could still use a good namin’.
For example, Puking Woman Parking Lot. I know, I know. Too glamorous? And yet there it is, just a block from Ground Zero, the corner where I saw a woman the other evening – still clutching her cell phone, by golly! – throw up, repeatedly.
“Yeah, can ya – bleeeeeeeeeeeeeech! – come an’ git me? Tiffany an’ Crystal an’ Brittany – bleeeeeeeeeeeeeech! – lef’ me an’ I dun ev’n know where they are!”
Keep walking. Keep walking.
What about Sexual Contact Park? I love that place. Well, I used to love that place. Now I avert my eyes. Apparently Mom wanted you to wear clean underwear not because you might be hit by a truck but because you might accidentally leave your panties in the park…
You know who you are.
My calls to the City of Minneapolis go unanswered, but I’m going to keep after them. I really think I’m on to something here!