XXX: Time for the annual sex mania
Make that zexmenia, the native wildflower with the suggestive common name. Sex mania may not have changed, but the scientific name of this species certainly has. When I first became aware of it in 1999 it was Zexmenia hispida. Over the next decade or so it was Wedelia hispida and Wedelia texana. When I looked last month, it had become Wedelia acapulcensis var. hispida.
However many changes may yet befall the “unique” scientific name of this species, I can tell you with assurance that this photograph comes from June 8th along the Smith Memorial Trail in my northwest part of Austin. It’s three months later now and I’m still seeing a few zexmenia plants flowering here and there around town.
© 2015 Steven Schwartzman
Portraits of Wildflowers 
I’m curious about the word origin.
Jim in IA
September 6, 2015 at 7:40 AM
In 2011 commenter David Hollombe offered the explanation that “Ximenesia [a botanical genus] is named for Spanish apothecary Jose Salvador Ximenes Peset (1713-1803). Zexmenia is named for Mexican rebel officer Jose Mariano Ximenez (1781-1811). That is the reason one has an S and the other has a Z.” Zexmenia would therefore be an anagram of Ximenez with an a added at the end.
Steve Schwartzman
September 6, 2015 at 8:00 AM
By the way, you continue to honor your scholarly credentials by being more interested in zexmenia than in sex mania.
Steve Schwartzman
September 6, 2015 at 8:03 AM
I will forego my other query in order to maintain your impression of me.
Jim in IA
September 6, 2015 at 8:28 AM
🙂
melissabluefineart
September 6, 2015 at 8:38 AM
Yes, proprieties must be preserved.
Steve Schwartzman
September 6, 2015 at 8:40 AM
Pity the botanists couldn’t leave a perfectly good name alone. When I was in my salad days my mentors would assume a superior air and inform me that one really must learn the latin names for plants because common names were unreliable. In my innocence I believed them but now I see they are far more fickle than us commoners could ever hope to be! On the other hand, being a lumper, I do feel a little glee when I see plants that were formerly split now lumped.
melissabluefineart
September 6, 2015 at 8:42 AM
I’m once again tempted to say that if botanists don’t like it they can lump it. On the other hand, the changes run in both directions, so maybe we should split the difference. And on the third hand, maybe we should practice to effortlessly split infinitives. Which reminds me that in the realm of numbers rather than grammar, mathematicians are good at splitting infinities—but I’d better stop before I give you a splitting headache.
Steve Schwartzman
September 6, 2015 at 8:54 AM
Yes or we could end up splitting hairs all day.
melissabluefineart
September 6, 2015 at 9:32 AM
We’d better end up by putting an end to split ends.
Steve Schwartzman
September 6, 2015 at 9:51 AM
We could always split an infinitive, or perhaps a banana.
melissabluefineart
September 6, 2015 at 9:54 AM
You’ve reminded me of a venerable trope from linguistics: “Time flies like an arrow. Fruit flies like a banana.”
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Time_flies_like_an_arrow;_fruit_flies_like_a_banana
Steve Schwartzman
September 6, 2015 at 10:28 AM
That is hilarious. Brings back all those disgusting fruit flies we had to work with in genetics class.
melissabluefineart
September 6, 2015 at 10:32 AM
I never had to work with any in my linguistics classes, at least not other than the ones in the quoted statement.
Steve Schwartzman
September 6, 2015 at 10:50 AM
Count your blessings. I like insects but not fruit flies.
melissabluefineart
September 6, 2015 at 10:58 AM
I’ve never seen a fruit fly, but I’ve occasionally seen one fall when it’s ripe.
Steve Schwartzman
September 6, 2015 at 3:30 PM
I’ve never actually seen one fly either but I understand it is a common sight at bad off-off Broadway performances.
melissabluefineart
September 7, 2015 at 8:46 AM
I sort of understand the constant twiddling with nomenclature and who belongs where today as opposed to yesterday, but it still seems overly confusing…at least to a non-scientist. I use my 40 year old Peterson’s for most flower IDs, but Go Botany is a regional and fairly reliable source except for the constant name changes. I can’t keep up.
Zex or sex mania makes sense to me…that’s about all flowers think about, isn’t it?
Steve Gingold
September 6, 2015 at 9:45 AM
The good side of a change in nomenclature is that it reflects the latest research, especially DNA analysis, into the origin of a given species. The bad side is that botanical research has advanced so quickly that it’s hard for us non-botanists to keep up, as you know so well.
I like the way you anthropomorphically phrased it: “that’s about all flowers think about, isn’t it?” Yep, that’s what flowers exist for, at least botanically speaking. People have read and no doubt will continue to read many other things into flowers.
Steve Schwartzman
September 6, 2015 at 10:23 AM
Your post title will certainly attract attention, Steve! Sadly, remembering scientific botanical names has never been my forte. After reading about the changes to the naming of this species, I now have an excellent excuse for not being so concerned. I could spend a vast amount of effort remembering names only to have them changed I do think the original name of this one is much easier to remember though. 😉
Jane
September 6, 2015 at 7:29 PM
Yeah, I thought it’s a catchy title. Even without a title like that, my posts about zexmenia in previous years always got a certain number of hits from people clearly looking for something else. Zexmenia is a great word and easy to remember, but unfortunately botanists have taken it out of the scientific name.
Steve Schwartzman
September 6, 2015 at 10:56 PM
Wedelia is the part of the name that suddenly caught my attention. A family I knew from Port Alto had three daughters, and one of them went by Wede. I wonder if that might have been a shortening of Wedelia. There was a German woman who lived near Francitas who was named Wedelia, and there are plenty of Wedels in Texas. Whether any of them are related to Georg Wolfgang Wedel is hard to say, but it certainly is suggestive. (See? I did get to your title.)
Port Alto, by the way, is directly south of a little place on TX35 called Weedhaven. There’s a good title for a book about weeds: “Weed Havens of Texas.”
shoreacres
September 7, 2015 at 9:23 PM
I see you found the origin of the genus name in Georg Wolfgang Wedel:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Georg_Wolfgang_Wedel
I’ve never known anyone named Wede, but Libby Weed is the president of the Gilbert and Sullivan Society of Austin. Her name may strike some as suggesting disdain and uselessness, but the reality is just the opposite. Whether Libby’s husband is a relative of J. F. Weed, the eponym of Weedhaven, I don’t know, but I’ll try to remember to ask her.
Steve Schwartzman
September 7, 2015 at 9:47 PM
By any name it is quite beautiful; such a gorgeous image.
Charlie@Seattle Trekker
September 8, 2015 at 12:04 AM
You’ve reminded me of Romeo and Juliet:
“What’s in a name? that which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet.”
Zexmenia, however, has no scent that I’m aware of.
Steve Schwartzman
September 8, 2015 at 3:03 AM
A catchy title to go with a catchy blossom. 🙂
tanjabrittonwriter
July 15, 2019 at 5:06 PM
Yes, it’s catching, in a good way. Not till I looked at this post’s text did I remember that the zexmenia was growing along the same Smith Memorial Trail that leads to the Stone Bridge Falls you saw here last week, and of which you wrote that I “captured some very captivating details.”
Steve Schwartzman
July 15, 2019 at 5:22 PM
“When one tugs at a single thing in nature, he finds it connected to the rest of the world.” John Muir
tanjabrittonwriter
July 15, 2019 at 5:40 PM
Achtung:
https://vault.sierraclub.org/john_muir_exhibit/writings/misquotes.aspx
Steve Schwartzman
July 15, 2019 at 6:36 PM
Thank you, Steve. I knew it was only one of several iterations I found out there.
tanjabrittonwriter
July 15, 2019 at 8:22 PM
You’re welcome, Tanja. I sometimes have a thing about tracking down quotations. It’s akin to finding the origins of words.
Steve Schwartzman
July 15, 2019 at 8:29 PM
Why am I not surprised, Steve? 😊
tanjabrittonwriter
July 16, 2019 at 7:10 PM
In Überraschung, the German word for surprise, I see that über is the cognate of the Latin super that became French sur. And of course German rasch is hardly any different from English rash.
Steve Schwartzman
July 16, 2019 at 9:03 PM