Regional identity crisis

A pine tree by any other name would be -- what? Still a pine tree. And therein lies the absurdity of whatever marketing brain-trust has convinced area civic leaders and chambers of commerce of the need to "re-brand" the part of Texas I live in. For many years, our chunk of the state -- roughly bounded by Houston and Beaumont to the south, Tyler to the northwest corner, and the Louisiana state line to the east (see the green shaded area of the map on the right) -- has been simply known as "East Texas", or "The Pineywoods". But apparently that's no longer good enough to lure tourists and new residents, so these geniuses are attempting to come up with a regional moniker that will somehow make more people want to visit and/or relocate to this area. Examples of successful regional names used by other parts of the country might include "The Texas Hill Country", "The Rocky Mountains", "The Golden Triangle", "The North Country", "The Gulf Coast", and "Las Vegas", just to name a few.

For years, "The Pineywoods" has seemed like an appropriate description of this area, because the main topographical feature of East Texas is trees, lots and lots of them. Not that there's anything wrong with that. I'll take a peaceful forest, with secluded lakes and gentle rolling countryside, over a crowded, polluted city any day. (Except, of course, when shopping and dining is involved.) But according to an editorial in the local paper:

"The emphasis on trees might lead those who have never been here to imagine that we're nothing but a giant tangle of trees, and only one kind of tree, at that. Certainly, there's no mistaking that we abound with trees and forests, but we've got much more to offer. We're a region rich in Texas history. Our area abounds with lakes and rivers, national and state parks. Most people who have never been to East Texas have no idea that there is a part of Texas — our part — that more resembles an English countryside than it does a Hollywood version of Texas."

But what to call it? Here are a few ideas from a recent contest soliciting suggestions (somehow I suspect that some of these may be more tongue-in-cheek than others):

• • Abitibi’s Bitch (Abitibi is a big local lumber/paper company)
  

• • Baja Rivercrest

• • The land north of the Gulf of Mexico, East of Interstate 45, South of the Red River, and West of the Sabine, excluding Houston and Dallas

• • BeauTylerAna (Beaumont-Tyler-Texarkana)

• • Angelachia (from a prominent area river, the Angelina)
  

• • Hoo-Hooville
  

• • Greater Rivercrest

With the possible exception of "Hoo-Hooville", I don't really care for any of these either. Over at The Critical Poet, a Steve Morgan writes:

"As far as I can tell there are about three things in East Texas: mobile homes, Baptist churches, and catfish restaurants. Lord, the catfish restaurants. Crazy Catfish, Ken's Catfish, Catfish Cabin, King Catfish. None of these features of East Texas lend themselves to a catchy moniker, though I suppose the local boosters could go with Catfish Country -- requiring everyone to overlook the the fact that a catfish is a hideous looking, bottom dwelling scavenger."

Hey, there we go: "Land Of The Hideous-Looking Bottom-Dwelling Scavengers". Perfect.