Ask an editor how to get stoned on cranberries By Tom Brooker News-Chronicle editor Could there be a better way to start out the new year than reading this column? I think not, and, in a tribute to the new global economy, I give the first question of 2003 to Franz B. of Dusseldorf, Germany: “I hear that in your Wisconsin you haff lots of cranberries, yah? Well, we love zem here, too! I hear also you haff lots of Germans in your Wisconsin. This is why you haff lots of cranberries, yah?” Answer: Nein, Franz, ist not so. Wisconsin has so many Germans (well, actually Germo-Americans) due to one of the strangest crazes in state history. In 1827, a German newspaper in Milwaukee, Die Leiderhose, printed the fact that farmers found Wisconsin fields laden with big, round stones. As it turned out, the rocks were the perfect size for the traditional stones used in the old country to hold down the lids on crocks of seasoning kraut. Germans came here by the tens of thousands just to harvest the stones (which the Dutch settlers tried to sell them). Unlike kraut stones, however, cranberries are not native to Wisconsin (nor are Germans or Dutch). Cranberries were actually introduced by French fur traders who received them at company picnics held by Ocean Spray of Quebec. They dried them and consumed them on their long, exploratory journeys, spitting the seeds out here and there along the way. The pits took hold in the acidic boglands of central Wisconsin where Polish immigrants gathered the fruit and sent it home. Germans living in Germany heard of their delicious taste and, as is their wont, occupied Poland, secured the entire harvest and brought the berries back to the fatherland. We still have them here, Franz, but don’t go thinking about goose-stepping through Wisconsin Rapids. We haff zee bomb. KABOOM! yah? Priscilla V. of Euren has her mind ahead of the winter: “Is it true that poinsettias need to be trimmed and put in the dark right now if you want them to bloom again in the future?” Answer: Only a special specie of poinsettia, Priscilla. The kukluxklanarium, a favorite plant of some southern senators, requires you to put a bag with two holes over it and place it in some little-visited room, such as a basement closet or a Mississippi shower. It should have the hood taken off it only on a special occasion, say the 100th birthday of a friend or something similar. No matter what you do, other species of poinsettias simply poison the cat and die. Finally, Joseph G. of St. Germain writes: “There’s a lodge near here that claims a muskie was taken in 1947 on Star Lake that tipped the scales at 67 pounds. It supposedly was 61 inches long. Is this just one of those trumped-up stories told for the benefit of Chicago tourists, or is it the real McCoy?” Answer: It’s true ... kinda. For a long time, Joe, the famed “Star Lake Muskie” held the world record and, indeed, was placed with pride over the fireplace of the Little Bohemia Lodge, there to be ogled by Illini and normal people, too. The DNR rescinded the record in 1973, though when someone accidentally discovered a refrigerator magnet stuck to it. It turns out the “muskie” was really a metal sturgeon decoy, but people from Chicago couldn’t tell the difference, and the locals didn’t want to spill the beans and thus tarnish a very lucrative tourist attraction. I won’t tell anyone if you won’t, Joe. — Tom Brooker is editor of The Green Bay News-Chronicle. You can ask him anything through regular mail (P.O. Box 2467, Green Bay, WI 54306) or e-mail, [email protected].