Mesa Musings:

Not long ago my wife, Hedy, and I hosted my mom’s 85th birthday party at our Costa Mesa home.

Children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren and assorted relatives from throughout Southern California were on hand.

My mom, a native Kansan who came to California when she was 12, sang a little ditty about Kansas sunflowers as she cut her birthday cake.

She’d learned the tune as a youngster. I’ve since discovered that the song, titled “Sunflower,” honors the wildflowers that grow each summer in the Jayhawk State.

Speaking of Jayhawks, after she finished singing her song I asked Mom to explain the origin of that term. Teams representing the University of Kansas are known as the Jayhawks.

A jayhawk, I’m told, is a cross between two hunting birds — the blue jay and the sparrow hawk. It seems that militant Kansas abolitionists in the 1850s and 1860s were referred to as Jayhawkers.

That discussion led naturally to an examination of other intriguing university mascots and nicknames, like: the Ohio State Buckeyes (an inedible nutlike seed that grows on trees in Ohio and, presumably, elsewhere); the Iowa Hawkeyes (Hawkeye was a character in James Fenimore Cooper’s “The Last of the Mohicans”); the Virginia Tech Hokies (a mythical turkey-like bird); and the Purdue Boilermakers (dubbed that by a sportswriter in 1891 because it sounded better than other contending names like the Haymakers, the Railsplitters and the Cornfield Sailors).

Because I’m a big college sports enthusiast, family members began to pepper me with names of schools, demanding that I supply their mascots.

“I’m from Minnesota,” my brother-in-law said. “You’re a Golden Gopher,” I shot back. “Indiana?” chimed another. “Hoosiers” I replied. “How about that other Kansas school?” an in-law probed. “That’d be the K-State Wildcats,” I responded.

Tennessee? The Vols — short for Volunteers.

Because we spend time in North Carolina with our daughter and four grandchildren, my sister-in-law wanted to know the derivation of “Tar Heels.”

The name was first applied to a group of North Carolina soldiers fighting in Virginia during the Civil War.

The North Carolina boys remained to fight in a particularly ferocious battle when other Confederate units ran.

It’s said Confederate President Jefferson Davis threatened to buy all the tar in North Carolina to apply to the heels of soldiers from other Southern states so they’d “stick” and not run during battles.

Now the names of other schools came flying at me, fast and furious. Utah? Utes. TCU? Horned Frogs. Wisconsin? Badgers (my son-in-law is a University of Wisconsin grad). Central Michigan? Chippewas. Syracuse? Orange. Alabama? Crimson Tide.

Other doozies include: the Western Kentucky Hilltoppers; the UC Santa Cruz Banana Slugs; and the Delta State University Fighting Okra (veggie green is the school color).

We then extolled the virtues of the mascots of our various alma maters. I graduated from Everett A. Rea Junior High on Hamilton in Costa Mesa in 1958: the Rams.

My brother and sister graduated from Heinz Kaiser Junior High on the Eastside: the Knights.

My sister and I graduated from Costa Mesa High: Mustangs. (I was in the first graduating class. It was our duty to select the mascot and school colors. I voted for Mesa Marlins, preferring a seafaring theme. Instead, we ended up Mustangs. A somewhat dense 13-year-old, I thought naming our mascot after a World War II P-51 fighter plane was lame!).

My brother graduated from Corona del Mar High School: Sea Kings. My wife is an Estancia High alumna: Eagles. We all went to Orange Coast College: Pirates. My wife and I were Cal State Fullerton Titans and Pepperdine University Waves. Our daughter was a UC Irvine Anteater and Cal State Long Beach 49er.

School nicknames and mascots go way beyond Lions and Tigers and Bears, oh my! Frequently quirky, there’s almost always a fascinating story behind them.

JIM CARNETT lives in Costa Mesa. His column runs Wednesdays.