I like Minnesota. Really, I do. However, there are a few things which annoy me about the Lake State, and if you don’t mind, I’d sure like to get them off my chest.

Before I begin, though, let me preface my comments with a clarification. People are critical of me for all kinds of reasons, from my rampant abuse of drugs and alcohol to my time in prison, but the concern that arises most often stems from the fact that I’m irresponsible and incapable of taking anything seriously. Allow me to put your fears to rest. Because of the sensitivity of this issue, I’ll do my best to avoid the blatant lying that would normally creep into the article.

As I explore Minnesota’s problem areas, I’ll try to dodge the obvious. Like mosquitoes. Everybody knows they suck blood and carry disease. Most people know there are more of them in Minnesota than the rest of the world, total. Some people are even aware of the political influence they have in remote northern areas. It’s a problem.

But that’s just what you get when you build your state on a marsh. Minnesotans like to brag about their 10,000 lakes. What they don’t seem to realize is that they have 10,000 lakes in the same way the Florida Everglades do. It’s called a swamp.

Furthermore, I won’t waste much time on some of the more annoying landmarks in the state, like The Biggest Mall in the Galaxy. It’s fun to listen to them brag about it, though. I remember reading, back when I was a kid, about some guy out in Winnemucca, Nevada who had The Biggest Ball of Twine in the Galaxy. I bet he brags some, too.

One thing I would like to spend a few lines on is the primitive northern region of the state, a horrifying area that I’ve actually visited. It’s really unfortunate that we, as a nation, have so much money for bombs and genetic research, but we can’t even provide these people with decent living conditions and a proper education.

We just let them stumble about in their loincloths, communicating with grunts and whistles while the government sinks its money into ridiculous programs, like Mega Malls. These poor people watch typical evening sitcoms like we’d watch Star Wars, wondering if scientists will ever be able to invent all those nifty toys, like running water and Velcro.

Of course, watching sitcoms is difficult without electricity, but these Minnesotans are crafty primates. After all, they did invent the modern RV.

The only thing that invokes more pity than the conditions up north is witnessing one of the many silly northern rituals.

For example, every summer, which in Minnesota lasts roughly from June 17th to the 4th of July weekend, hundreds of wily northerners pull their snowmobiles out of storage and head to Lake Bemidji. Here they participate in a contest of pure skill and ingenuity (a true sight to behold). They see who can race their snowmobile around the lake the most times. The winner is, of course, the racer who completes the most laps before his snowmobile sinks to the murky depths of the giant lake.

You’re probably wondering, like I did when I first heard about this, “Wouldn’t it save considerable time, not to mention human life, if the wily northerners skipped the whole racing thing and just tossed their snowmobiles into the lake?”

At any rate, I think it’s time to move on to what I consider the most pressing concern in the state today. I’ve never in my life encountered names as ridiculous as those I’ve found in Minnesota. I’m not even talking about absurd city names, like Ham Lake and Hermantown — every state has a handful of these. No, my concern lies with the naming of Minnesota streets.

I’ve done many hours of driving in the state, and it doesn’t take long to begin to notice a pattern. Names like Boot Lake Road, Fish Hook Lake Road and Upper Rice Minerva Lake Road, in addition to all being ridiculous, have something else in common. Apparently, it’s custom up north to name newfound streets by selecting one or more random nouns and simply tacking on “Lake Road.”

Some people attempt to explain this away by suggesting that perhaps there really is such a lake somewhere on the road. Like this justifies it. It isn’t enough that some idiot named a poor, defenseless body of water Upper Rice Minerva Lake. Minnesotans feel some need to name the accompanying road after it, rather than do what a less inspired state would do, like fill it in and develop some pricey real estate on it (or at least lock its founder in a padded room).

I know what you’re thinking. “There are dozens of more ridiculous things in Minnesota to complain about, for example the Twins.” I do understand that many people find my problem with road names to be a little trivial. Apparently, they just don’t realize what a health hazard this can be. For example, consider the following conversation of a couple driving through the state:

DRIVER: Oatmeal Toaster Purple Lake Road? What kind of name is Oatmeal Toaster Purple Lake Road!?! I hate this God-forsaken state!

SPOUSE: Oh my goodness, honey, look out, a caribou!

Minnesota’s problems are many and varied, and I’m not sure what we, as a nation, can do. Perhaps our only option is to trade them away to the Canadians. Maybe, if we’re lucky, we could barter for the Expos, or at least a couple of Mounties.

---

Ron DeMarse is a sophomore in liberal studies from Muscatine.