AMERICANA CHEESE : Packer Paraphernalia More Than Necessary, It’s a Lifesaver

GREEN BAY, Wis. — Business has been great and getting better, and for $2,500 to $3,000, you can get, in Packer green and gold--well, as the company’s owner says, “they are just very attractive, really outright beautiful caskets.”

Four burials to date, including a gentleman in Kenosha recently who was laid out in complete Packer attire, 15 to 16 units ordered for future use, but after waiting 29 years for the Packers to return to the Super Bowl, this would seem to be an awfully unlucky time to be in immediate need of the Wisconsin Vault and Casket Company’s services.

“That would be very unfortunate,” concurred Fred Angermann, the company’s president. “Especially if the deceased had tickets. Oh, God, I know I’d be hanging on, I tell you.”

*

Frank Emmertt was on his way to meet his Maker last year after witnessing a Packer victory.

There were houses on the left, a forest on the right and within seconds none of it could be seen because of the ice covering the cockpit windows. The engine in the four-seat plane, being flown by Baron Bryan with Emmertt as his passenger, then died.

Bryan yelled something unrepeatable, the plane began to nose dive and take aim on another set of trees straight ahead, and Emmertt did what any real Green Bay Packer fan worth his lager would do . . .

He reached for his Cheesehead.

“Saved my life,” Emmertt says. “Something cut across my arms and face and head and tore all the skin off my arms, gouged and punctured the Cheesehead, and without it, I’m dead. My throat might have been cut, or if I had survived--my face--I might have been disfigured.”

His father-in-law purchased the $20 Cheesehead, although he nearly had second thoughts because of the price. And then Emmertt almost gave it away to a youngster after leaving Lambeau Field.

“Now I buy a new Cheesehead for every game and give them away to the youngsters,” he says. “I have people tell me they have taped them to their steering wheels as a poor man’s air bag, and like me, there are people who won’t fly now without them.”

Emmertt’s Cheesehead not only protected his face from being cut, but prevented him from slamming into the dashboard. The plane smashed into the treetops just beyond the Steven’s Point runway, and Bryan was knocked unconscious after hitting his head on the controls.

“He was a Steeler fan,” Emmertt explained, and Bryan would spend the next three months in the hospital for failing to pack a Cheesehead.

Emmertt would appear on the Tonight Show with Jay Leno, and Reba McEntire, a guest that night, would autograph his Cheesehead, which now sits under a glass cover.

*

Normal people, of course, are unfamiliar with Cheeseheads.

The name originated with Chicago-area sports fans, who applied it in retaliation to being ridiculed as “flatlanders” by their Wisconsin brethren.

The product, manufactured by Foamations Inc. in Milwaukee, is a Velveeta-colored, pock-marked wedge piece of foam rubber with a hole cut out to fit on the head.

The very first Cheesehead, well, he wasn’t difficult to find.

“What city, please,” said the Wisconsin-based telephone operator.

“Ah, could you connect me with the original Cheesehead, please.”

No laughter. Not even a giggle. No hesitation. “Just a minute, please,” as if any good Wisconsinite would expect anything else.

A few seconds later the telephone is ringing, and then a song can be heard: “I’m a Cheesehead, baby, the pride of Wisconsin; I’m a Cheesehead, baby, the pride of Wisconsin,” and after a lifetime, the song concludes with the tag line: “Where the hell’s my bowling ball?”

And then as if that’s his cue, Chris Becker comes on the line.

“Understand you’re looking for the original Cheesehead,” he says.

“Anything to avoid hearing that blasted song again.”

Becker does not laugh. “Those are the ‘Cheeseheads With Attitudes,’ ” he says, and for $14.95, including shipping, a CD can be on its way.

“Are you the original Cheesehead?”

Becker now laughs. “You want Ralph Bruno, he’s the original Cheesehead. Wore it to a Brewers’ game more than a decade ago. His friends wouldn’t sit with him, but everyone else wanted one.”

“And how do I get in contact with this original Cheesehead?”

Becker has been doing this for some time. “He’s right here, founder of this company, Foamations Inc., which makes the Cheeseheads. But he doesn’t talk; he’s a shy Cheesehead.”

How can you be shy and walk around with a ridiculous monstrosity on your head for everyone to gawk at?

“JFK Jr. has worn one, so has comedian Tim Allen, and we have a picture here of a guy in Bosnia wearing a Cheesehead,” says Becker, the company’s president. “There’s one in the political history museum at the Smithsonian Institute. It’s just a matter of time before it’s in the NFL Hall of Fame.”

*

Charles Henderson was walking around the Brown County Airport in Green Bay looking like any other business traveler with the exception of the ridiculous monstrosity on his head.

“Seen them on TV,” says Henderson, who hails from Georgia. “I’m not a sports fan; don’t even know who’s playing in the Super Bowl. I just know it saved some guy’s life and I’m about to get on an airplane.”

*

Packer helmets, complete with the signatures of 30 present-day players, were being sold for $1,299. They are all gone.

How much for Vince Lombardi’s signature?

The fastest-selling item at Ball Four in Milwaukee is the $199 Brett Favre autographed football.

“About as quickly as we get them autographed,” manager Mike Donohue says, “we sell them.”

The sales price on a Packer jacket at Reggie White’s Pro Shop down the street from Lambeau Field is $275. A copy of White’s book, “The Trenches,” can be purchased for $22.99, $40 with his signature.

Innovative entrepreneurs at the NFC championship game purchased hundreds of game programs, and then at game time when most hawkers were out of programs, the magazines were offered to fans for three times their value. A day later they were being sold outside Lambeau Field for $50.

Imagine if they were autographed by Favre.

*

Ben and Olga Venable were returning to their home in Las Cruces, N.M., all decked out from head to foot in Packer paraphernalia, including pants that demonstrated they were oblivious to embarrassment.

In order to make this trip to Green Bay and buy all of these clothes, the Venables had to surrender the title on their truck to borrow the money.

“You would have to be a Packer fan to understand,” says Ben, wearing a No. 92 Packer jersey. Olga, wearing a No. 4 Packer jersey, nods in agreement. “I once had to drive 300 miles to buy a Bart Starr jersey.”

Now he may have to walk 300 miles to get his Packer stuff.

*

Calling from California, La-La Land until having experienced life in Wisconsin, contact is made with Dr. Robert Butler, the Green Bay Packers’ clinical psychologist.

Born and raised for 29 years in the Los Angeles area, Dr. Butler is quizzed concerning his credentials.

“Sir, do you own a Cheesehead?”

“No.”

“Does any member of your family own a Cheesehead?”

“No.”

“Would you consider buying a Cheesehead?”

“No.”

So Doc, what’s up with these crazy people?

“More than sport, it’s a religion here,” Dr. Butler says, and he must have a booming business. “Pride knows no bounds. When someone can identify with a team doing as well as the Packers by doing something as ridiculous as wearing a Cheesehead, it becomes a symbol of pride, and the ridiculousness no longer matters.

“The Packers have become the extended family for so many people here in Wisconsin. I had a patient last year who became disabled, lost his job, and because he was in a financial pinch, he ended up selling his season tickets for $18,000.”

Doc, how do you explain people paying all that money to sit in the cold and watch football games they could see on TV?

“Ah, I must admit for the first time since I moved here in 1982 I found myself being smitten with Packer fever,” he says.

Not you too, Doc?

“Bought a ’92 Buick Regal because I had the chance to get season tickets--just for this year--with the purchase,” he says. “I call it my Packer car; I just parked my own car in the garage.”

Oh, Doc.

“When I went back to Orange County at Christmas, I gave all my family Packer hats and jerseys as gifts and all I was talking about was the Packers,” he says. “They thought I had gone over the deep end.”

*

A truckload of Cheeseheads has already been dispatched to New Orleans and Monday another will lead a caravan there, which will include Bruno, Becker and Emmertt.

The caravan will stop at all major Packer bars on the way, such as Freddie Froghammer’s in St. Louis and T.J. Mulligan’s in Memphis. Becker says the caravan’s intention is to get to New Orleans before the Super Bowl is played.

“We’ll be selling Cheeseheads for $10 each along the way,” Becker says. “I’ve already had visions of Cheeseheads everywhere down Bourbon Street once we get there. We’ll be selling them in the Superdome too.”

The new “Reggie wedge,” a little golden necklace for $49.95, will also be available, along with the Cheesehead bow tie, the Cheesehead earrings, the Cheesehead baseball cap, the Cheesehead can insulators and the Cheesehead cuff links.

“There is no actual cheese that looks like this,” Becker says. “We’ve had it copyrighted, because it’s considered a piece of art.”

*

Fred Angermann reports that everyone has been very pleased with the green and gold caskets.

“It’s exactly what the deceased wanted,” he says. “These caskets are very comparable to a fine sealer casket from any manufacturer.”

That’s good, of course, and Frank Emmertt is impressed.

“It’s an excellent idea,” says the Cheesehead who lived to cheer another day after his plane crashed. “There’s only one thing better: being cremated and having your ashes poured over Lambeau Field.”

SUPER BOWL XXXI

Green Bay vs. New England

Jan. 26, 3:15 p.m. Channel 11