Radioactive wasps, our new state mascot? This idea has legs!

Were you ever picked on by an older sibling or the bigger kids at school?

 

If so, you probably absorbed the taunts until that moment, like Ralphie in “A Christmas Story,” when you found the inspiration to fight back. 

 

We South Carolinians can empathize with Ralphie as we often live in the bragging-rights shadow of our two neighboring states, Georgia and North Carolina. Both of them are larger geographically and have around twice the population of South Carolina. 

 

Our smaller population is a good thing in my mind but tends to make us less “pivotal and crucial” in presidential elections. 

 

They both have major league sports teams, if you count the Panthers as major league. We grow more peaches than either of those states and even have a peach water tower in Gaffney. Yet Georgia has claimed the Peach State motto and boasts it on its license plates. 

 

North Carolina proclaims they are First in Flight. 

 

We finished dead last in the Civil War, even though we started it. Granted, Georgia and North Carolina do have better roads, although ours are better than Guatemala’s, for what that’s worth.

 

We do, however, have some things to brag about. 

 

We once had a top tourist attraction, South of the Border, until Disney stole the idea and opened Disney World. We have had college national champions in football, baseball, and women’s basketball. 

 

And Charleston has been voted the top destination city by readers of Conde Nast’s travel magazine for years, a lure for people to move here from many other states including – yep – Georgia and North Carolina. 

 

But we still lacked that ONE-OF-A-KIND THING that no other state – neither our big neighbors nor the other 47 – could claim. That is, UNTIL NOW!

 

Last month, Department of Energy officials reported finding four wasps’ nests within the Savannah River Site, near Aiken, that once produced nuclear weapons during the Cold War and now stores juicy reservoirs of radioactive liquid waste. The wasp nests, found near these toxic pools, exhibited radiation 10 times the level allowed by federal regulations. 

 

Sounds bad, right? But look at it this way. The half-life of plutonium-239 (around 24,000 years) combined with good-old spotty government surveillance has given us something NO OTHER state has or can even hope to have – RADIOACTIVE WASPS! 

 

Georgia may have the Georgia Tech Yellow Jackets, and North Carolina has the Hornets – but we have ATOMIC WASPS! Roar, Ralphie, roar! 

 

The Energy Department was quick to point out the nests emitted less radiation than humans experience daily from natural and manmade sources. 

 

Seeking a low-radiation site for that next family vacation? Forget the beach. Head over to and camp out at Savannah River. 

 

An official for the South Carolina Forestry Commission sought to further calm fears, explaining there will be radioactive animals near a site like Savannah River, but one would have to eat a lot of them to have any serious impact. 

 

Note to self. Knock off the wasp and grits until this all blows over in 24,000 years.

 

But I say don’t downplay it. This is a gift. Lemons to lemonade. Make the most of it. We are the ONLY state in the country with radioactive wasps. 

 

What an attraction! 

 

We could promote daredevil nighttime excursions near the Savannah River, with Geiger counters and spooky music. That could draw crowds bigger than the Charleston Ghost walks or the Las Vegas Sphere! 

 

Glowing drone formations simulating radioactive wasps could be the flyover after the National Anthem at football games at Williams-Brice Stadium and Death Valley. Colleges or high schools could change their mascot from whatever they have now (think Chanticleers and Paladins) to the Radioactive Wasps. 

 

That swarming image would put any opponent on its heels. 

 

Or we could field an acrobatic minor league baseball team – the Atomic Wasps – to rival the Savannah Bananas. 

 

This could be our Ralphie moment!

 

The wasps could be featured on our license plates and state flag – much more au courant than the palmetto tree. We could give the wasps a lofty biological name, such as Chernobylus Preditorium, and make them our state insect. 

 

But there is a problem. Believe it or not, we have a state insect. In 1988, the state legislature, when they weren’t debating how to save money by not fixing roads, designated the praying mantis (Carolina Mantis) our state insect. Those bug-eyed critters are close relatives of termites and cockroaches. Plus, the female mantis is reported to sometimes devour her partner after mating – not the image we’re looking for. 

 

I say we can do better for a state insect and call on our legislature to oust the mantis and get on the wasp wagon. 

 

Wasp-a-Mania could elevate South Carolina’s profile way above that of our two neighbors. They would have to stay on the porch because the Wasp State would then be the big dog in the Southeast neighborhood. Wasp tourism and wasp merch sales should be a big boost for our economy and, who knows, maybe even fund a few road repairs. Plus, we will have a 24,000-year supply of radioactive wasps. 

 

I hope you’ll agree this game plan has legs. Actually six legs per wasp – if you are brave enough to get that close to count ’em.