Wisconsin calls itself "America's Dairyland." They could also bill it as "A pretty swell place with lots of nice people."

At least that's the impression I got during my first visit.

Normally, Wisconsin wouldn't be on my vacation calendar, but it will be from here on out.

That's because my baby girl, Heather, and her husband-to-be, Brad Willems, will be living there happily ever after as soon as they tie the knot.

Since wedding weekends are not the best time to meet new family members, my wife and I traveled to Wisconsin recently to meet Brad's family and see a brand new state.

We didn't know what to expect. As far as I knew, Wisconsin began and ended with cows, cold weather, beer and bratwurst sausages.

It's much better than that. The state was green and gorgeous, blanketed with the prettiest farm land you can imagine, most of it growing the corn that keeps the dairy cows fat and happy all winter long.

But there was much more to see than fabulous farm country. We toured the Lake Michigan shoreline in Sheboygan, cruised past Whistling Straits golf course where the 2010 PGA Championship will be contested, and then headed north to Green Bay to meet Brad's folks.

Until then, I'd thought Green Bay was nothing but a mailing address for the fabled Packers of NFL football fame.

It's almost true. You can't swing a cat in Green Bay without hitting something or someone sporting the team's gold and green colors or selling Packer merchandise or singing Packer songs or drinking Packer-backed beer and eating Packerperfect brats.

We were lucky enough to be in town for Packers Fan Day, which featured all-day tailgating at legendary Lambeau Field followed by a brief team scrimmage.

We visited with tailgaters, toured the stadium and ate fried cheese curds. It was all great.

Then we saw the non-football side of Green Bay and quickly learned the football crazy town was also home to a massive paper industry that produces everything from pulp to finished print products.

That's mostly because Green Bay is just a short boat ride from abundant Canadian forests that grow the trees used to produce many American paper products. One in particular.

Until recently, Green Bay was known as the toilet paper capital of the world. That makes sense, since Wisconsin is also home to the Kohler family, whose name graces millions of toilets and related porcelain products around the globe.

Green Bay's toilet paper industry was once so important that the state capital sported a Museum of Bathroom Tissue that included samples of Green Bay-made tissue enjoyed in such diverse spots as Lambeau Field, the Space Shuttle and Graceland.

But now, the Green Bay toilet paper business is so far gone the contents of the museum have been moved to the attic of a private home in Elgin, Illinois.

According to Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel columnist Mike Nichols, the big problem in Green Bay is Greenpeace.

In addition to saving the whales, the ecowarriors at Greenpeace want to fight global warming by leaving trees unmolested and promoting recycled paper products. Including toilet paper.

Rough, recycled toilet paper can be made from leftover newspapers, grocery bags and taco wrappers. The soft, squeezable paper can only be made from trees. And the soft stuff was a Green Bay specialty.

Now that Greenpeace has declared war on pulp products, Green Bay soft tissue sales are sinking faster than the Edmund Fitzgerald. That needs to stop.

Maybe we can't save the whales. But it's not too late to save Green Bay. Demand soft toilet tissue today. I don't know about you, but if recycled toilet paper is the preferred ammunition in the war on global warming, I'd rather burn up. And be comfortable doing it.

(Send your e-mail comments to: alex@ newnan.com)