Wednesday, May 8, 2013

Excelsior

The United States is like a big family of fifty children, all different shapes and sizes, each one having its own unique voice and personality. And as in any family with fifty children (an anxiety-inducing thought for most parents), the states often have to vie for attention and create their own identity to stand out. One way they do this is by devising a set of representative objects and symbols.

For instance, each state has its own official song. Some have opted for self-congratulatory odes such as California's not-so-subtle “I Love You, California.” (Sample lyric: “I love you California, you're the greatest state of all.” How modest.) On the other end of the spectrum is Idaho, whose state song is titled “Here We Have Idaho,” which is pretty much how you'd expect Idaho to be introduced as you pass by it on a bus tour.

Each state also has its own motto – a kind of catchphrase that sums up its spirit and motivation. Some are merely random words collected from a game of patriotic buzzword Bingo, such as Delaware's “Liberty and Independence” and Vermont's “Freedom and Unity.” Others are colorful phrases that make for great license plates, like New Hampshire's incomparable “Live Free or Die.” Then there's New Mexico's enigmatic “Crescit Eundo,” which is Latin for “It Grows as it Goes.” I'm just going to leave that one alone.

States have other common symbols of identity, such as a state nickname and a state flag. However, some states have taken the concept to great heights of absurdity. Consider Florida, which, like many other states, has designated an official state animal: the Florida panther (the cat, not the football player). However, one animal clearly couldn't shoulder the responsibility of representing a state all by itself. So Florida also designated an official state marine mammal, saltwater mammal, freshwater fish, saltwater fish, reptile, saltwater reptile, bird, butterfly, and tortoise. You know you've gone too far when you have to create a whole “state tortoise” category because you already have an official “saltwater reptile.”

While Florida is busy giving every animal in the state its own official status (I believe the round-tailed muskrat is campaigning for official state rodent), other states are representing themselves symbolically through food. Idaho has the potato as its state vegetable and Wisconsin has milk as its state beverage. Both choices seem reasonable, if not a tad obvious. It would be so much more original if they came up with something wacky like an official state muffin.

Then again, it wouldn't be so original, since three states – Massachusetts, Minnesota, and New York – have already declared state muffins. Keep in mind, like all other state symbols, these muffins were not merely appointed by some random muffin spokesperson. They are officially recognized through legislation that has passed through the state's governing bodies. To be fair, each of these states had particularly persuasive muffin lobbyists in the form of schoolchildren. Their convincing arguments won over politicians swiftly, which makes you wonder if we could get more bills passed through Congress by having them drafted and endorsed by third-graders.

However, Oklahoma didn't need schoolchildren to put all other states to shame in the official food department. Its legislators drafted an entire official state meal consisting of cornbread, biscuits, grits, fried okra, squash, corn, black-eyed peas, barbecue pork, sausage and gravy, chicken fried steak, pecan pie, and strawberries. I had to take an antacid just typing that sentence. I'm pretty sure each order comes with a free trip to one of Oklahoma’s official state cardiac centers.

So what's the point of it all? Do we really get a better idea of what Texas is like knowing its official state molecule is the Buckyball? Does having an official state silverware pattern really give Kentuckians a little extra pride in their state? Do Kentuckians even know they have an official state silverware pattern? Perhaps legislators can designate that as the official state question.

2 comments:

  1. Do Kentuckians even use eatlery, let alone the type that requires a pattern?

    ReplyDelete
  2. If it takes third graders to get things done in Congress, I am all for it.

    ReplyDelete