First a state flower, then a state animal. How about a polka?

   No one grumbled when the columbine was declared Colorado's official state flower in 1899, or when the Rocky Mountain bighorn sheep was named the official state animal in 1961.
 

  But at some point you start to wonder when enough is enough.

   Colorado has an official state grass, state fish, state mineral, state insect and two state songs.

   This year, groups of schoolchildren persuaded the Legislature to adopt a state reptile (the Western painted turtle) and state winter sports (skiing and snowboarding).

   Some legislators decry these declarations as a waste of time and money. Others see them as a useful lesson in civic engagement for the students who propose them.

   If other states are any indication, Colorado - with its 17 official state symbols - isn't going to stop naming official state emblems anytime soon.

   Massachusetts has 44, including an official cat, dog, doughnut, dessert, muffin, marine mammal, horse and polka. Last year the state added a state shellfish, syrup and novel ("Moby Dick").

   Granted, Massachusetts isn't known for small government, but proclaiming increasingly obscure state symbols seems to be popular in red and blue states.

   "Texas has a mess of 'em," said John Mucci, who tracks state symbols for his Web site, Netstate.com

   The Lone Star State has an official cookware, neckwear, footwear, fabric and flying mammal. Last year some folks tried to designate an official "mythical town of Texas" - Podunk.

   "I think it got through the House, but not the Senate," Mucci said.

   His state, New Hampshire, which prides itself on small government, has no fewer than 10 official state songs.

   Most nominations for state symbols come either from schoolkids or local industries lobbying for a promotional boost, he said.

   Thanks to the dairy lobby, the official state beverage of Wisconsin, for example, is milk. In Florida, it's orange juice. California has wine. Maine has Moxie, a soft drink that no one in any other state has heard of.

   "That's the thing, though," Mucci said. "The best symbols really highlight the unique flavor of a state."

   So when Kentucky legislators were considering an official wild game animal, they picked the varmint Kentuckians like to shoot best: the squirrel.

   Colorado has its own weird activity that is being lobbied to become the official summer sport - burro racing. It's a sport where runners tug and shove disgruntled burros loaded with mining tools over mountain passes.

   "It's obvious why it should be the official state sport," said Dave TenEyck, president of the Western Pack Burro Racing Ass-ociation. "It's the only sport that originated in Colorado. It's practiced only here. And it celebrates the state's mining heritage."

   The association has written letters to legislators for years to no avail.

   "Maybe it's time for us to consider a burro march on the Capitol," TenEyck said.

   Of course, not everyone is thrilled at the prospect of more designations. These things take the time and attention of hundreds of legislators and state employees.

   "It's official stupidity," said Rep. Douglas Bruce of Colorado Springs, who, since joining the Legislature in January, has voted against the state turtle, skiing and a number of other ceremonial pieces of legislation on the principle that they are a waste of time and money.

   "There are more important things we could be doing," he said. "I think a lot of legislators secretly feel the same way I do, but they don't want to lose the butterfly vote."

   So, the nominations keep rolling in from cute little schoolkids with lofty intentions.

   Sen. Jennifer Veiga of Denver thinks that's a good thing.

   She introduced the bill for the Western painted turtle, as suggested to her by a group of Westminster fifthgraders.

   "I'm not going to suggest having a state reptile is going to change life in Colorado, but it takes very little time - maybe an hour - and I think it has a real benefit," she said. "These kids who suggested this learned important lessons about civic engagement, and maybe in the future they'll remain involved in government.

   "Besides," she added, "we must be running out of categories. Aren't we?"

   Not even close. Colorado doesn't have a folk hero, as Connecticut does, or a raptor, as they do in Idaho, or a jelly (That would be Louisiana).

   So, what's next?

   "We've actually been trying to think of something we could nominate because we get such good press," said House Majority spokeswoman Katie Reinisch.

   "We spend a lot of time trying to explain budgets or renewable energy portfolios, and it can be confusing, but symbols are great. They are made for TV; get an animal, get a kid - you're all set."

CONTACT THE WRITER: 636-0223 or dave.philipps@gazette.com

SYMBOLS OF COLORADO

Motto: Nil Sine Numine, "Nothing Without the Deity"

Animal: Rocky Mountain bighorn sheep

Bird: Lark bunting

Fish: Greenback cutthroat trout

Flower: White and lavender columbine

Folk dance: Square dance

Fossil: Stegosaurus

Gemstone: Aquamarine

Grass: Blue grama grass

Insect: Colorado hairstreak butterfly

Songs: "Where the Columbines Grow," "Rocky Mountain High"

Tree: Colorado blue spruce

Reptile: Western painted turtle

Winter sports: Skiing and snowboarding