MINNESOTA'S SENSIBLE PLAN

By Garrison Keillor

THIS FALL, IN AN UNMARKED OFFICE IN THE SUBBASEMENT of the Minnesota state capitol, a team of resource-management planners is fine-tuning the biggest water-diversion project in the history of mankind and the largest transfer of wealth since Cortes acquired the Aztec empire.

Its code name is Excelsior, and the preliminary plan alone fills a portfolio the size of a breadbox. If all goes according to plan, on Nov. 4, 1999, the Governor of Minnesota will stand on a platform in Duluth and pull a golden lanyard, opening the gates of the Superior Diversion Canal, a concrete waterway the size of the Suez. Water from Lake Superior will flood into the canal at a rate of 50 billion gal. per hour and go south.

It will flow into the St. Croix River, to the Mississippi, south to an aqueduct at Keokuk, Iowa, and from there west to the Colorado River and into the Grand Canyon and many other southwestern canyons, filling them up to the rims--enough water to supply the parched Southwest from Los Angeles to Santa Fe for more than 50 years.

In the past, Lake Superior, which represents one-tenth of the world's supply of freshwater, was considered "inviolable," but with environmental groups in retreat and a Republican Congress favoring "wise use" of natural resources, the Excelsior project is moving full tilt toward opening day.

What will Excelsior mean? It means that America's Sunbelt retirees will be able to shower, flush toilets and have lush, green lawns for decades to come.

And it means that Minnesota will earn pots of money. Typically, residents of the Southwest today pay up to $45 per 1,000 cu. ft. of water. That price may rise as the aquifers of the Western plains recede and more rivers are diverted to irrigation. But assuming the price remains at $45 per 1,000 cu. ft., the value of Lake Superior would be an astounding $20 trillion. In addition, Minnesota would receive current market prices for the fish.

After deducting the cost of canal and aqueduct construction, the net profit for Minnesota will be $17.5 trillion, or $3.8 million per person. Placed in a trust fund earning 6% interest, divided fifty-fifty between individual citizen and state treasury, the sale of Lake Superior would provide an annual sum of more than $100,000 to every Minnesota resident.

To many Americans, whose only knowledge of the North Star State is that it gets cold in the winter and produces cheese, it will come as a surprise to wake up one morning in 2004 and read in the newspaper, HALF OF U.S. ECONOMY NOW IN HANDS OF MINNESOTA. But there is something inevitable about economics, and $17.5 trillion talks in a loud, clear voice.

Overnight Minnesota will be transformed from corn belt to money belt. Gigantic glass skyscrapers will rise in downtown St. Paul, home of the nation's wealthiest state legislature, and as the money floods in, Minnesotans will look for acquisitions: IBM, UPS, USX, GTE, Time Warner, Minnecorp, J.P. Olson, Chase Minnesota. Presidential candidates will hold their big, $100,000-a-plate fund raisers in Minneapolis, will pledge their support for water diversification and mention that, conservative though they be, they've always had a soft spot in their hearts for Hubert Humphrey.

The term "Wall Street" will become archaic slang, like Route 66--instead we'll refer to "Marquette Avenue," home of the Minnesota Stock Exchange. The big entrepreneurs--the Buffetts, the Eisners, the Gateses--will jet off to Minnesota to line up financing for their future moves. And one day Donald Trump will discover that he is owned--lock, stock and roulette wheel--by Lutheran Brotherhood and must renegotiate his debt load with a committee of silent Norwegians who don't understand why anyone would pay more than $120 for a suit.

Most Americans have never imagined such a project, and that's why they have so many questions about it.

Q. Will Excelsior require state or local tax abatements, so the taxpayers wind up subsidizing the whole thing?

A: No way.

Q: Isn't there a danger of environmentalists blocking the project with a bunch of nuisance lawsuits?

A: $17.5 trillion buys some powerful legal talent.

Q: Won't Minnesota be forced to share this windfall with its neighbors, such as Wisconsin, Michigan and Ontario?

A: See answer above.

Q: Whatever is Minnesota going to do with all that money ?

A: Create a social utopia, of course: a state with vast libraries, sports centers, every home wired for interactive television, cradle-to-coffin health care and unemployment benefits equal to your previous year's salary paid until you're 68.

Q: What will you do when the money runs out?

A: It won't. Minnesota is sitting on a lot of water. It has more lakes than there are names to call them--for example, there are 40 Round Lakes, 33 Big Lakes, 19 Sandy Lakes and 14 Green Lakes--so Minnesota can earn billions more by selling off these duplicates.

Q: How can I become a Minnesota resident?

A: Thirty days is all it takes. That and four recommendations from current residents.

Lake Superior is a valuable asset, but the Superior Canyon will prove to be even more valuable than the lake was, according to people familiar with the situation.

"Look," says one of the resource-management planners, jabbing his finger at a graph. "Lake Superior isn't much of a tourist attraction. Who wants to come and look at 31,820 sq. mi. of water? Nobody. The water's too cold for swimming, and frankly, lakes don't draw like canyons do. Ask Lake Mead. Lakes only draw fishermen, a bunch of owly guys who drive in, buy a six-pack of beer and a bologna sandwich. Canyons draw families. And the Superior Canyon, without a doubt, will outdraw the Grand. It's bigger, for one thing, plus it has islands and sites of famous shipwrecks. You'll have a monorail tour of the sites with crumpled hulls of ships. Very respectful. But a major draw."

By 2006, Lake Superior will be gone, and its islands will be wooded buttes rising above the fertile coulees of the basin. A river will run through it, the Riviera River, and great glittering casinos like the Corn Palace, the Voyageur, the Big Kawishiwi, the Tamarack Sands, the Clair de Loon, the Sileaux, the Garage Mahal, the Glacial Sands, the Temple of Denture, the Golden Mukooda will lie across the basin like diamonds in a dish. Family-style casinos, with theme parks and sensational water rides on the rivers cascading over the north rim, plus high-rise hotels and time-share condominiums. Currently there are no building restrictions in Lake Superior; developers will be free to create high-rises in the shape of grain elevators, casinos shaped like casserole dishes, accordions, automatic washers. Celebrities will flock to the canyon. You'll see guys on the Letterman show who, when Dave asks, "Where you going next month, pal?" will say, "I'll be in Minnesota, Dave, playing four weeks at the Pokegama." Tourism will jump 1,000%. Guys on the red-eye from L.A. to New York will look out and see a blaze of light off the left wing and ask the flight attendant, "What's that?" And she'll say, "Minnesota, of course."

What will Minnesota's vast wealth and pre-eminence mean for the rest of the country?

Almost nothing but good. Minnesota is a state of public-spirited and polite people, where you can find excellent cappuccino and Thai food and great bookstores yet live on a quiet, treelined street and send your kids to public school. When a state this good hits the jackpot, it can only be an inspiration to everybody. Of course, there is bound to be resentment. But in the end, our prosperity will benefit everyone.

The media will be transformed as Minnesota buys up networks and cable companies. News will be less about politics and more about civilization--history, art, literature and sweet corn. And creamed onions. The movie business, as Minnesota buys major studios, will start to make pictures in which snow occurs as a normal part of life. Movies in which there is less machine gunning and car bombing and more scenes in which people enjoy a good meal and tell jokes.

The Superior Canyon project can help bring the country to its senses, putting a big chunk of the economy into the hands of modest and sensible people, people who have been through some hard winters and are the better for it. But winter isn't the only reason Minnesotans are as good as they are; it's also because of something in the drinking water. Try some and you'll see. That's why the lake was named Superior.