Symbolically Speaking

Symbolically Speaking

For years, Wisconsin left the shaping of its image to grade school minds. No, we don’t mean our state legislature (though the confusion is understandable). We’re talking actual 8-year-olds. Like the ones who chose the state bird – the robin – in 1927. Or those who chose the wood violet as the state flower in 1909. Then there are the geniuses who created (for $50,000) the new state brand: “Live Like You Mean It.” Said an ebullient Gov. Jim Doyle, whose administration oversaw the effort, “No matter how people come in contact with Wisconsin, they’ll know precisely what we stand…

For years, Wisconsin left the shaping of its image to grade school minds. No, we don’t mean our state legislature (though the confusion is understandable). We’re talking actual 8-year-olds. Like the ones who chose the state bird – the robin – in 1927. Or those who chose the wood violet as the state flower in 1909.

Then there are the geniuses who created (for $50,000) the new state brand: “Live Like You Mean It.” Said an ebullient Gov. Jim Doyle, whose administration oversaw the effort, “No matter how people come in contact with Wisconsin, they’ll know precisely what we stand for.” Which is… what?

Small wonder a new Facebook group sprang up called People Against Wisconsin’s New Logo.

Honestly, is there any state with weaker slogans and brands? Our state beverage, milk, is also the official beverage of more than a dozen other states. Meanwhile, the cheesemaking capital of the nation, a state known globally for world-class creations, doesn’t even have a state cheese.

Instead we have… well, consider this anemic assortment of symbols: state grain, corn; domestic animal, the dairy cow; state soil, Antigo silt loam; fossil, the trilobite; and mineral, lead sulfide. Yawn. No wonder we’re flyover country.

While Wisconsin has bored everyone to death, other states have picked deliciously fun, memorable symbols. Florida elevated the Key lime pie. Arizona declared the bola tie the official state neckwear. New York enshrined the state shell, the bay scallop. Vermont reached for the sky and chose the first official state star.

You get the idea. So here, without further expense to state taxpayers, are our nominees for a new slate of state symbols:


State Cheese: Colby. It’s delicious and uniquely Wisconsin. The mild, cheddar-like gold with distinguishing pinpricks was invented here.

State Fruit: The cranberry. An easy pick (no pun intended). At 3.85 million barrels, we produce more than anyone but God. And cranberries are chic.

State Pie: Door County cherry. Tartly sweet, not a bad image for Wisconsin.

State Beverage: Brandy old-fashioned sweet. Hardly chic. But a traditional, unique favorite in the country’s top brandy-consuming state.

State Pastry: The kringle. Why not salute our ethnic heritage while elevating what Milwaukee Magazine food critic Ann Christenson declares “the perfect year-round Wisconsin pastry.”

State Herb: Ginseng. While dull Delaware embraces the sweet goldenrod, we can promote the hip, healthy, mysterious energy drink favorite. Think of the introduction this will give Wisconsin officials when selling our state in Asia.

State Fur-Bearing Mammal: The mink. We produce more pelts than any other state. Wouldn’t it be radical to associate Wisconsin with luxury?

State Bean: Snap bean. Healthier and (of course) snappier than Massachusetts’ tired old baked navy bean. Wisconsin both grows the snap bean and leads the nation in production for processing.

State Team: Green Bay Packers. Sure, we love the Brewers and Bucks. But we’re talking about a nationally beloved franchise and the only community-owned pro team in America.

State Vehicle: The Harley-Davidson Hog. It certainly beats the choice in Texas. (The chuck wagon?) And it celebrates our industrial heritage.

State Muffin: The wild blueberry muffin. The fruit of July’s North Woods makes a memorable treat.


State musical instrument: The accordion. Old and new, traditional (polka) and hip (Cajun and klezmer music).


Official Meal: Fish fry. Our Friday-night favorite is beloved. And it’s a heck of a lot easier to remember than Oklahoma’s official meal: fried okra, squash, cornbread, barbecue pork, biscuits, sausage and gravy, grits, corn, strawberries, chicken-fried steak, black-eyed peas and pecan pie. Hereabouts, we’d consider that a week’s groceries.