This month, in our quest to create a shared identity among the 20 counties of the region, we at Ingram’s visited the Johnson County whose county seat is Warrensburg, the one refer-red to by some among the unknowing as "the other Johnson County."

During our ED forum I raised the useful but impertinent question of whether this Johnson County, as it becomes more a part of the metropolitan area, really wanted to co-exist as one of two Johnson Counties therein. It’s as if two teams in the American league were named "the Royals" or two kids in the same family were named "Bob." From a marketing perspective, this is a nightmare.

With much to feel proud about, the folks in Missouri’s Johnson County refused to take offense or play defense. "It’s easy to differentiate us," said one provocative soul at our Warrensburg forum. "We’re the low cost Johnson County, the low traffic Johnson County, the highly educated Johnson County"--in a word, actually four, "the good Johnson County."

This may be all true, though I suspect there are a few people in Kansas willing to challenge, but these arguments are besides the point. Why would anyone want to fight over a brand name that is so wan and whitebread in the first place? Who is Johnson? What is a "Johnson" county? What does "Johnson" say to the world about the nature and character of the people of either county.

In the highly competitive economic development marketplace, I thought, why not rebrand either of the counties in a way that tells potential business suitors what the county is about. This is what branding is supposed to do. Why should counties handicap themselves with names that have no meaning even to lifelong residents of the county? Quick, Johnson Countians, which Johnson is your county named after?

The Johnson Counties are hardly unique. Half the kids in Jackson County think their county was named after Michael. Half the kids in Douglas County think their county was named after Michael as well. And no, Buchanan County is not named after Pat. They didn’t have butterfly ballots back when they were voting on the county name.

55 Minutes

That’s how long it took to drive traffic-free from Warrensburg to my office in midtown Kansas City. On the way, I decided to solve the Johnson County branding problem. As I was doing so, I thought that it would be a whole lot easier to pass enabling legislation to allow the name change if all the counties were allowed to change names simultaneously. (They all need a change but one--can you guess!). This way, state guides and maps and what not would only have to be changed once.

In the past, I have managed the name change process for major organizations. It can be prolonged and expensive. So given my experience and my generous desire to save counties money and hassle, I have gone ahead and selected new names to many of the area’s counties. I hope you like them.

Johnson County, Missouri

This one was easy. I solved the problem before I got to Lone Jack. Johnson County has two great assets, CMSU and Whiteman AFB. Although Whiteman is a boon to the county, no one goes there entirely of his or her own free will. And the only people who would go there to buy a service or product--like, say, a stealth bomber--the sentries would be inclined to shoot on sight. So University County it is. The new brand says progressive, educated, sophisticated.

Douglas County, Kansas

"Hey, we should be University County." Sorry, guys. The name is already taken. All counties face resistance to economic development, but none more so than Douglas, given the university crowd and its hangers-on. The latter push for "Green County." But the ED and university donor forces prevail, and they get their choice, Jayhawk County. The brand says university and Kansas and, why not, good basketball.

Cass County, Missouri

In a documentary I did for KCPT-TV, I traced the birthplace of Ewing Kauffman to a small, unmarked farm house in northern Cass County. Voila, Kauffman County. The name links the county to the Royals and better yet, to the Kauffman Foundation, which just may decide to move to Harrisonville.

Leavenworth County, Kansas

Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding! This is the winner, the one county whose new name is the same as the old. The city’s largest city is already the same name of the county. So are the county’s two defining institutions, the fort and the prison. No brand confusion here. A great bit of instinctive packaging. Leavenworth County.

Buchanan County, Missouri

OK, I know it happened 142 years ago, but that particularly inspired tribute to free enterprise still suggests speed, progress, and rugged individualism. Pony Express County it is. The brand still has high name recognition and a positive Q score. If it works for a beer, it will work for a county.

Miami County, Kansas

For starters, it sounds like it should be in Florida. Compounding the problem is that its charming county seat shares the phonetic name of a 1950s disc-jockey scandal. When I think of Miami County, I think Louisburg Cider Mill, with its autumnal exurban blend of rural virtue and urban prosperity. OK, in the interests of full disclosure, I have friends at the Cider Mill, but I also have friends at Louisburg Ford and Beethoven’s in Paola, and I am not putting up either of their names. Cider Mill County, it is.

Platte County, Missouri

Platte’s two great virtues are its lovely rolling river valley landscapes and KCI. In the world of economic development, KCI wins by a landslide. The word "airport" now suggest long lines and shoelessness. But International County sounds entirely progressive and ready to do business.

Shawnee County, Kansas

An argument could be made for naming the whole county Topeka County, given the city’s dominance in the county. But Topeka itself, despite the city’s strong recent efforts, has yet to muster a national brand identity. Taking advantage of its unique strength in the metro, I go with Capital County. Or is it Capitol County? Whichever.

Jackson County, Missouri

Kansas City anything is confusing enough. I see two defining identities at play, the Arrowhead complex and Harry Truman. For fear that either the Chiefs or Royals will move or lose, I lean towards Truman. He’s not going anywhere. True, he was a Democrat, but by comparison to today’s pres- idential contenders, he was Abraham Lincoln. Even to me, Truman County says steady, trustworthy, persistent.

Wyandotte County

Right now, the Unified Government of Wyandotte County/Kansas City, Kansas is easily the most cumbersome jurisdictional name this side of Bulgaria. Let’s cut to the chase and highlight the city’s unique marketing distinction, introducing Speedway County. Just think of the traffic violation revenue potential. Long may she roar.

Clay County, Missouri

OK, I admit. I’m stumped on this one. Residents could go with Jesse James County, but for all his charms, the guy was a serial killer. Liberty and William Jewell are swell, but they don’t define the county. Nor does the Ford Plant in Claycomo. Casino County is a nice alterative. In fact, the county may be to too diverse to pigeonhole. Hey, there’s an idea, Diversity County. It’s just not a particularly good one.

Jack Cashill is Ingram's Executive Editor and has affiliated with the magazine for 25 years. He can be reached at jcashill@yahoo.com. The views expressed in this column are the writer's own and do not necessarily reflect those of Ingram's.