In Wisconsin, where I live, there are two seasons: winter and road construction. We have winter by virtue of our northern location. We have the road construction season because of all of the salt used on the government-monopolized roads. My ancestors settled in the small towns and the rural areas. Because of the price and abundance of land, many of the settlers became dairy farmers. That's why the standard issue state-mandated vehicle license plate says "America's Dairyland."

Being America's Dairyland, someone must have figured that this claim to fame was important to maintain even among the state residents. Now, I don't know when this happened, but some group with clout must have lobbied the political gods at the capital in Madison to ban the sale of oleomargarine in the state. When I was a young lad, a consumer simply could not buy what we called Oleo in stick form at a grocery store anywhere  in Wisconsin. You know the protectionist logic: Oleo sales would put a dent in the butter sales, which would cause economic damage to our dairy farmers. Since farmers are the backbone of our state, (along with taverns), we wouldn't want to do anything to hurt the family farm. By default, the only force that could keep out the products which were competitive to the dairy farmers was the state government. The logic worked in Madison. But, then again, politicians being the mentally challenged bunch that they are, they would not have been able to think about the unintended consequences of their actions. They could only see what might possibly happen to them during the next election.

But there was one small problem. The problem has to do with those pesky  markets, specifically that type of market created by government interference known as the black market. Wisconsin is bordered on the south by the Land of Lincoln, otherwise known up in these parts as Ill-a -noise. Illinois had no prohibition against the sales of the dreaded Oleo in its grocery stores. So guess where Wisconsin residents traveled to buy the forbidden spread? And guess what else? A lot of greedy businessmen opened up shop just south of the Wisconsin-Illinois border and actually sold these common criminals (by Wisconsin's definition) what they wanted! Shame on these folks for defying their all-knowing leaders and wanting to bring ruin to the family farm.

I can still remember being taught by my parents the subtle art of smuggling Oleo. We would load up into the '61 Pontiac Widetrack Catalina and embark on our dangerous mission with our destination being more than an hour away. These  merchants of contraband actually fought for our patronage. They had price wars. There were roadside signs up with changeable numbers, just like gas stations. You say that you don't like big business? Well, lots of mom'n'pop stores sold Oleo as well. I'm not kidding--I remember once seeing a little shack called Andy's Oleo. When you crossed the line into Illinois, these businesses were as abundant as time-share hucksters are in the lobbies of hotels in Orlando.

Meanwhile, back at home, smuggling Oleo was a dirty little secret, like the relative who was a jailbird. You never mentioned it to any of your classmates who lived on a dairy farm. What would possess otherwise law-abiding folks like my parents to stoop to the level of mere gypsies? It must have been that my parents were thrifty and resourceful. My parents were raised on dairy farms during the not-so-great depression. One would think that they would be sensitive to the needs of other farmers. But they were also sensitive to the needs of the family budget! Remember, before the family farm became the victim of its own success and rampant price-fixing of dairy products by government agencies, a greater share of the breadwinner's income was actually used  for putting food on the table. My parents attempted to keep their grocery bill down by having a large garden and looking for bargains when they did have to go to the grocery store. I even remember going along with my father to buy whole, unpasteurized, non-homogenized milk directly from a farmer. I bet that kind of transaction is illegal today.

Unlike many today, who blame their parents for their own problems, I'm thankful to my parents for the many lessons which I learned from them--lessons I didn't learn in the government training centers. I learned my first lessons in economics from them. I learned that the consumer votes with his wallet. I learned that there are always tradeoffs in economic transactions which result in a win-win situation. I learned that vested interests will lobby politicians for protection and favors, but economic decisions take common sense from common people like my parents.  We traveled 10 miles to the next town because the lower prices were more important than catching up on the latest gossip from the corner grocery store. That was another tradeoff they made. Are you an opponent of home-schooling because you think that state-licensed teachers are more qualified than you to teach your children life's skills? Many may feel that they were deprived by their parents of something when they were a child. However, I will always be grateful to my parents, the smugglers.

February 5, 2002