Cows in Wisconsin. Coal in West Virginia. Canyons in Utah. Cars in Michigan. These and other shorthand symbols on maps and memories have long served as icons identifying states' industrial and natural assets.
But lately it's not nature or products, but politics defining states.
Just ask Americans this week about Alabama and the immediate impression may be Roy Moore. Or ask anyone about Minnesota last week and instead of sky-blue waters, muddied politics after U.S. Sen. Al Franken's resignation might come to mind.
It's not just Alabama and Minnesota. Arizona's image lately is less defined by cactuses than the prickly independence of U.S. Sens. John McCain and Jeff Flake. Illinois may honor Honest Abe, but crooked pols like Rod Blagojevich, just one of four Illinois governors to go to prison, are more current characterizations. Or New Jersey, where Chris Christie embodied Garden State stereotypes. Other examples abound, binding up states' images to individuals.
Of course, prominent politicians have always played a part in characterizing some states. But it used to be a posthumous effect, and positive, like Monticello or Mount Vernon, or license plates tipping a (stovepipe) hat to the Land of Lincoln.
And it's true that in some states, more modern pols have shaped state's images, including in Alabama itself, where George Wallace embodied defiance to desegregation. But like so many sociopolitical aspects of this deeply divisive era, state differences are sharpening.
Nationally, the red, white and blue country has become red-state, blue-state America, and that meaning has morphed beyond signifying voting patterns to code for lifestyle choices and even economic prospects.
This last aspect may have been the defining dynamic in Alabama. Usually as red as the Crimson Tide of its flagship university, it turned blue for the first time in decades.