“What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.” – William Shakespeare.
I’ve always been fascinated by names, for as long as I can remember. More specifically, bad or funny names, certainly not ones that smell like a rose. I still laugh out loud at the scene from The Wedding Singer where Drew Barrymore realizes her married name will be Julia Gulia, and her tool of a fiance can’t see why that’s so funny.
I have also been saddled with a last name that sounds like you have acid in your mouth when you pronounce it, so I have a natural affinity for the Mike Litoris and Ben Dovers of this world, who show up every day with a smile and do their best.
With that in mind, I decided to take a look at some of the most unfortunate street names that bless our great city. Have a look, and have a laugh.
Mike Myers Drive
If it was 2002, and Mike was coming off the triumph of Goldmember, this would be the greatest street name ever. But then he made Cat In The Hat, and followed that turd with the universally despised Love Guru, and it subsequently came to light he’s the biggest douche in Hollywood. The street name went down the toilet with his career.
This one is a load to absorb. Named after a gent with the last name Kummer (anglicized to Cummer), it amazes me that at some point over the past 40 or 50 years somebody didn’t maybe think it might be a good idea to change Cummer Ave to any other name in the English language (or any language for that matter).
To top it off, Old Cummer Go Station sits nearby, if your tastes skew a bit more mature.
Setting aside the fact that this street instantly calls to mind the abhorrent 80’s bomb Three Amigos, there are other issues here.
Taco Tuesday? Ha! That’s amateur hour. The fun never stops on Sombrero Way, with Margarita Monday, Guacamole Wednesday, Refried Bean Thursday, Enchilada Friday and Huevo Ranchero Saturday. Hmmmmmm.
I had a listing on this street a few years ago and one of the guys on the team took delight in busting my balls the entire time. It was schoolyard level banter for sure, but it underscored just how ridiculous the name is. “Yo Dude, are you going to take a rip on the Bong, then go do an open house on Blong, make sure nobody sees your Dong.”
I picture getting a fancy expensive invitation in the mail one fine Spring day. The invitation reads: “You are cordially invited to the Socialite event of the summer, to celebrate the pending nuptials of Frederich and Gwyneth at 123 Mould Ave.” It just kind of sits like a fart in an elevator.
This one just conjures up the indelible image of somebody’s pimply faced 13 year old son holed up in their bedroom with a box of kleenex for hours on end, walls lined with Scarlett Johansson posters. Knock hard and knock loud before entering this room.
Indian Valley Trail
In our woke culture, this just screams of a street name that is about to be cancelled, only to proudly be replaced by Doug Ford Drive. It’s gonna happen.
There are certain phallic names, like Cockburn, that you can excuse due to the difference in the phonetics and the actual pronunciation. But Hiscock Blvd just has to own it for what it is, and be damn proud. “Pizza Pizza? I want to order an extra large meat lovers pizza with extra sausage. Make it hot, and make it snappy, I live on Hiscock Blvd.” That’s how you own it.
There’s something flat out fishy going on at Tuna Court, the chicken of the sea. Put Tuna Court, Hiscock Blvd and Old Cummer in the same room and now you have a party!
And with that classy finish, I’m out!!