WISCONSIN FOLKS

In 1985 we moved from our Southern roots to the tiny town of Green Lake, Wisconsin, and here's one of the stories I wrote there.

It was a little slice of Wisconsin.  I stopped by the railroad tracks to buy some more of the best corn I ever tasted.  There it sat.  A whole bushel basket full.  I asked, "Do you have the same kind of corn you had the other day?"

"Got no corn."

"What's that in the basket?" I asked.

"That corn's two days old.  It's no good."

I couldn't believe my ears.  They could have taken my money and never said a word.  I said, "I sure wish you had some, because I can't find corn like that in the grocery store."

"No.  That's because it's two days old when they get it.  Then it sits there a day or two before you buy it."

I guessed he was right.  "It must be fresh here, because I bought some corn here the other day and it sat in my car in the sun all day, and it was delicious."

"That's why," said a fellow sitting in a chair way back behind the vegetable stand.

"What?" I called.

"It was half cooked."

I laughed.  "Well, I want to take some corn to North Carolina tomorrow.  They can't get corn like that down there."

"Can't get a lot of things down there," said the first fellow.

"That's true," I said, walking to my car, "but you can't get a lot of things up here, either.  Like collard greens."

The guy sitting in the back called out, "Colored girls?"

"No!  Collard greens!"

I laughed all the way home.  These Wisconsin people are great.  They're down-to-earth, outspoken, and they'll tell you what they think - especially if you don't rake your leaves.  They won't pry into your business but they'll ask how your sick relative is getting along.  I know people are just people wherever you go.  But in Wisconsin, they're sure easy to like.