Being from the upper midwest of the USA, I've been fortunate enough to travel a lot around the country over the years on various excursions.
Out west, down south -- love Florida, been all over it -- even a few times to the east coast. Boston's great, but they talk funny.
Not sure how many times I've been to Las Vegas -- maybe a dozen -- but if you want first rate casino action and great shows to see -- that's the place to go.
California's chock full of really cool stuff to see and do too. San Francisco remains one of my favorite cities. The tour of Alcatraz should be on everybody's bucket list. Really cool, and spend the extra couple bucks and get the headphones that will give you a running narrative of what you're seeing as you walk around, else you might not fully comprehend it.
But now that the Las Vegas Golden Knights have squared off against the San Jose Sharks in the second round of the NHL playoffs, it occurred to yours truly that he didn't know the English translation of a lot of places. So I looked them up.
Did you know Las Vegas translates into "the meadows"? That's definitely wrong. There's nothing remotely resembling green pastures anywhere near Vegas. Just desert. Dry and hot. Who came up with that dumb idea?
There's lots of "Sans" out west. Jose, Francisco, Diego, Luis Obispo -- even an Antonio way down in Texas. The Alamo is there.
Thing is, "San" translates to "Saint". Must have been a lot of holy people out west back in the day. Funny how no Sans --saints -- hung out in the midwest, the east coast, or even Florida. And definitely not Boston. They probably couldn't understand what those folks were talking about either.
So if I have this right, San Jose translates to Saint Joe. Then there's Frank, Jake (Diego=Jacob -- go figure), and Lou the Obispo (bishop). And of course Tony down in Alamoland. The word "Alamo" itself translates into a tree. Namely the cottonwood, which has to be the most worthless and destructive vegetative species God ever put on the earth.
If you have a big one, or worse several in your neighborhood, you'll know it in June. That's when it typically sheds and spreads that nasty cotton stuff everywhere. Lawns get covered with it. Swimming pools have to be covered up. It clogs the intake of AC units, and blows into garages. When I moved into my current house 20+ years ago, it was winter time. No foliage on the trees. And there was a big one -- maybe three feet in diameter -- species unknown -- smack dab in the middle of the back yard. I thought cool. Shade in the summer time.
Until I discovered it was a cottonwood. Then my first order of business was calling a tree company and having that bad boy "disappeared". Split up into firewood, which fed my fireplace for the better part of three years. The neighbors thanked me. There was also a skinny little sapling not far from it, species unknown as well. Turned out, that was a chestnut tree. Years later it grew up and provided shade, and nuts for the squirrels. I like squirrels. So it worked out.
Another thing I could never figure is all the "News" when it comes to state names. There's New York, Hampshire, and Jersey. We know where the name New Mexico came from. The old Mexico is still there.
So what ever happened to the original York, Hampshire, and Jersey? English territories you say? Maybe that would explain why the whole region is referred to as "New England". But wait a minute. Didn't the future United States fight a revolution to shed English rule and establish their own country? So why would they name an entire region, let alone a few specific states, after the oppressors they were trying to shed? That doesn't make any sense.
But enough of that nonsense. Now that my sentimental favorite team (the Maple Leafs) have been eliminated again (I love Toronto too), count me as rooting for the Knights of the Meadows. As in the hockey squad from Vegas.
Nothing against San Jose, but after hanging out in Frisco for a while, Saint Joe is definitely meh if one opts to visit it.
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