Impeaching the badger
State animal visits zoo to clear its name
Editor’s note: Alicia Armstrong, who wrote the popular “Zooperstars!” column in the original Milwaukee Journal Green Sheet section, wasn’t afraid to take on the tough issues. Just read this July 3, 1975, column, in which she launches a trial balloon for re-evaluating having the badger as the state animal. Her reason? The animal’s scientific name has the T-word: tax.
Here’s a hard question for you, fellow Wisconsinites: Should the badger be impeached?
It’s true, we’re all quite used to him — although, actually, few of us have ever even seen him. But his name’s in the papers a lot, and we feel we know him. He seems like an old, if somewhat distant, friend.
However, the state animal has some grievous faults that we, as good citizens, must force ourselves to examine. He may be, in fact, the very source of many of our most vexing problems.
For his real name (some call it his scientific name) is Taxidea Taxus. That first fancy name — Taxidea — is all right, though it does sound a bit like an uncomfortable ailment caused by excess stomach acid.
However, that last name — Taxus — could be positively lethal, leading us all eventually to the poorhouse. In other words, fellow Wisconsinites, it’s difficult to imagine how we can continue to tolerate a state animal who goes about crying: “Tax us! Tax us!”
Badger, for heaven’s sake, change your last name — to Schwartz or something. Or else, Bucky, we may not be able to afford you much longer.
Sensing rumblings of discontent, battalions of bitter badgers burst from their burrows to battle their belittlers. But, instead of using their impressive claws, they decided to go the public relations route.
They sent lovely Lydia to the Children’s Zoo at the Milwaukee County Zoo. There, she meets thousands and thousands of Badgers, and she charms each one of them.
Actually, Lydia is an enormous surprise to most people. Because she’s a badger, they expect her to be pushy and somewhat unpleasant; they’re astonished as well as pleased to discover that she’s as mild as Clark Kent.
However, sometimes she forgets herself and hisses in the rudest way. Fortunately for her, these little slips usually go unnoticed.
You might expect this badger beauty to have a more conventional name — Becky, for instance. Becky Badger. But she probably chose the name Lydia because it made her sound like a movie star or a TV star or, perhaps, a successful Avon lady who wouldn’t hesitate to ring anybody’s doorbell.
Incidentally, you might be interested to know that many states have no official state animal at all. But we are so advanced that we’re now discussing the advisability of selecting a state insect.
Someone has nominated the monarch butterfly, but I think it would be more characteristic for us to honor the mosquito. Then, in addition to being badgered by the badger, we’d have The Sting.
Postscript: When Armstrong wrote this column, Wisconsin was one of just 18 states with an official state mammal; currently, 39 states have one. The PR campaign wasn’t that successful; Lydia was returned to her owner later that year, leaving the Milwaukee zoo without a representative of the Wisconsin state animal. And two years later, the state named a different buzzing creature as the official state insect: the European honeybee.