Dear Mr. President: With all due respect, it’s the “Gulf of Mexico.” As the saying goes: You’re entitled to your own opinion, but not your own facts. Recalling President Bill Clinton’s one-time campaign mantra, “It’s the economy, stupid!” and recognizing you as our once-again single-term president, “It’s the Gulf of Mexico, silly!” That’s ground truth, derived from the endemic language of the place.

For some crazy reason it’s having a renaissance in all my conversations. I can’t stop trotting it out while on the phone or out in public. “Chilly along the Gulf of Mexico,” I’ll chip in as I pass someone in a store or heading to the men’s room. Same thing at the pub, “Quite the big tide along the Gulf of Mexico tonight!”

It seems to hit a sunny chord of recognition with folks. They all just smile. It’s a good name, “Gulf of Mexico.” Aztec derived. I bet even the fish like it. Think of it like the moon. It’s not going anywhere. Long after we’re dead, “the moon” will be there — endemically labeled by some long-ago people. And so will the Gulf of Mexico.

Karl Meyer

Greenfield