This Whopper’s for You
How strangely comforting in a wonderfully American way that one of the markers of a return to some normalcy this holiday month is the annual appearance of the World Champion Liars Contest. Since 1929 a series of leaders and good-natured local boosters (all right, the Liars Club in Burlington, Wis., has had only two presidents in 72 years--and one of them was grumpy) has sifted a year’s worth of fibs, fabrications and outright stretchers submitted from all over the world to pick a winning whopper (“I once caught a fish so big the photo alone weighed seven pounds”).
The Burlington Liars Club has extensive computerized records of lies. (Actually, each year’s lies are dumped in the president’s basement.) The membership is vast and dedicated. (To be honest, there are only two members, John Soeth and Mitzi Robers--and she really doesn’t do much.) “If we had more members,” explains Soeth, “we’d need dues and meetings and elections and quorums. We’re not really into that.” The club has a clever Web site to collect lies (well, truthfully, the only way to submit lies is by mail to Soeth’s house at 179 Beth Court, Burlington Wis. 53105). “Web designers suggested our patron saint, Pinocchio, with his nose growing and all that,” Soeth added. “But we’re not really into that.”
What the club is really into is having a grand annual time poking fun at humanity’s impressive inability to tell the truth. The Liars Club president, who describes himself as an incredibly handsome, 24-year-old retired principal, collects a year’s worth of mailed lies (Dec. 19 is the absolute deadline, unless Robers keeps golfing in Florida). Then around Christmas the entire staff (both of them) meets at the club’s international headquarters (Soeth’s dining room table) and scientifically sorts submissions (if Soeth or Robers don’t laugh, the lie gets tossed). Nothing distracts them (except weather chatter and the stream of Janet Soeth’s Christmas cookies). “The cookies are great, truly,” John reports. (“He better say that,” his wife adds, “I’m Norwegian and I’ll cut him off.”) Soeth and Robers will read thousands of lies (more like 500 nowadays, down from 20,000 in the 1940s). Honestly judging lies can take days (well, at least a morning). Soeth and Robers work well together (“Mitzi doesn’t know what’s funny”).
The winning lie is a highly classified secret for a week (except when Liars Club members, sworn to secrecy, tell friends and family). On New Year’s Eve, Soeth will announce the World Champion Lie of 2001, which earns its distant author a huge personal check from Soeth (yeah, right).