While driving across North Texas recently, I saw a small herd of black cattle off in the distance and began to ponder: How can there be enough Angus cattle in the world to produce all the beef that bears their brand?

When I was a boy in the middle of the 20th century, the ranches in Central Texas had a lot of white-face cows and a few mongrels (mixed breed or hybrids).  Black Angus cattle were few and far between. If you wanted to improve your herd, Angus bulls were among the options (along with Brahman and Santa Gertrudis).

And now in the 21st century, Angus beef has become the lean meat for discerning (and other) dining establishments, as well as supermarket displays across our fair nation. In fact, the way things are going, soon school cafeterias will be offering Angus Tacos along with those nutritious veggies kids won’t eat.

To paraphrase Winston Churchill, somewhere in all this Anguish there is a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma.  The riddle is that according to a reputable internet source, only eight percent of the beef marketed in this country qualifies as “certified Angus beef.”  We all know about mystery meat, but how can so many restaurants and supermarkets be selling us 100% “Angus beef”? That constitutes an enigma, a very puzzling thing.

Which connects with another perplexing idea I wonder about on road trips.  It occurs as I find myself tailgating a Nissan Cube or a Kia Soul: what ridiculous names are given to some cars these days.

Back in the the 20th century, we started with the Ford Model T.  Sensible choices after WWII included the Chevy Deluxe and Dodge Dart.  We grew accustomed to fancier names,such as the Buick Roadmaster, Ford Ranchero, Plymouth Fury.  But at least those made sense.We even had our share of curious monikers, like the Edsel and AMC Gremlin.

But nothing to match the dumb names nowadays. What about the Daihatsu Charade: is it pretending to be a car?  Is the Dodge Scamp a naughty child or a mean adult? The Mitsubishi Mirage must be the car you only think you are driving.

The Mazda Bongo Brawny undoubtedly makes a lot of noise when chugging down the road. The 2013 Kia Quoris may be an answer to Quo Vadis (Latin for “Where are you going?”), but it’s not a sensible name for a car. Scion iQ leaves me speechless.

To end on a positive note, I suggest a few good names that haven’t been used yet. The Audi Alcatraz has a nice solid ring to it.Honda Heman and Shewolf could be the same car with different accessories.How about Hyundai Baby Beast?  Does the Peugot Pinocchio, the BMW Bratwurst, or the Yugo Dinky appeal to you?

Readers,send me your suggestions torescuethe good name of the auto industry from meaningless names generated by a computer.

Jerry Lincecum is a retired English professor who now teaches classes for older adults who want to write their life stories.  He welcomes your reminiscences on any subject: jlincecum@me.com