Wisconsin had a big party in 1998. It was a roll-out-the-barrel, slice-the-cheese, strike-up-the-polka-band wing-ding that promised to roust every last badger out of state burrows and into the streets to dance with guests.
On May 29, Wisconsin was officially 150 years old, which is not old for its rocks and rivers, but is old for its trees and trails. For the state, itself, however, it is just right. Prime, you might say. Like a three-year-old cow called Bucolic, or a 28-year-old quarterback called Brett, or properly aged cheese called Brick.
Now you don’t celebrate such a significant birthday on just one day. That would be like blowing out only one of the birthday candles. Instead, you set up committees and commissions, and you make more plans than the mother of the bride.