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North Dakota: It's the Place Ya Gotta See by Robert J. Brake "Who’d live in a state where they got a law requiring everybody to bathe at least once a year?" Click to read Essay Profile of Author Bio of Author from ETG Essay, Late-breaking Developments Author's Comment on the ETG Experience Updated Bio Click to Purchase Send email to the author (The copyright on this essay is held by the author.  For permission to duplicate: copyright@cunepress.com)

North Dakota: It's the Place Ya Gotta See
When my Anchorage tour bus driver bragged, "I’ve been to forty-nine states," I didn’t ask which state he’d avoided. I knew. It’s my home state—North Dakota, the foot-of-the-heap state everyone avoids. Perplexed, I decided to call my old high school pal Alvin, a North Dakota maven who graduated in the top seventy-five percent of his class.

"Al, how come North Dakota gets such a bum rap?"

"I dunno," he mused. "You can get a divorce, a vasectomy, or a nosejob, and nobody lays a guilt trip on ya. But tell ’em you like North Dakota and they think yer a pervert. I jest don’t understand. North Dakota’s like heaven, without dyin’!"

"How’s that?"

"Well," he reflected, "ya know, we got a lotta good-hearted Catliks and Lutherns, mainly Republicans. Famous people, too. Lawrence Welk, Eric Sevareid, Roger Maris, Louis L’Amour, Maxwell Anderson."

"But all those celebrities are dead," I said, "and many states have Catholics and Lutherans. Tourists think North Dakota’s really flat, cold, and boring. What about that?"

"OK, so she’s a little flat," he conceded. "But not like Nebraska! I tried rollin’ a marble across North Dakota from Fargo, and she spun off Killer Curve at Medina. Besides," he added, "what with all those lakes in Minnesota and mountains in Montana, tourists need a little relief."

"Well," I persisted, "what about the cold weather?"

"Hell," he snapped, "It’s colder in Fairbanks and Frostbite Falls. Besides, it keeps us on our toes. Sometimes, in the cold weather, we even read books and talk to each other."

"I’ll buy that, Al," I confessed. "But what about the boring bit?"

"Easy," he gushed. "We have tons of fun here. We picnic and polka, fish illegally at night, and go to tractor pulls—you know, lots of excitin’ stuff."

"What about stress, Al?"

"What stress?"

"You know. From pollution, crime, traffic congestion, and crowding."

"We don’t have much pollution," he insisted, "except when yer down-wind from the alfalfa mill. Crime? Hey, what’s to steal? Maybe some crab apples once in a while. Traffic messes? Rare. Except maybe when we get a fertilizer spill down at the three-way. Crowding? Impossible. We only got nine people a mile here. We’re America’s most rural state, and damn proud of it!"

"OK," I confessed. "I’m impressed. But Al, what’s really special about North Dakota?"

"Look at what we got," he bragged. "The windiest city in America—Fargo at 14.4 mph average. The only American city named Beach. The Red River flowin’ 540 miles—north. And Rugby—the geographical center of North America. Hey, we gotta lot to brag about, Bobbo."

"OK, Al, I’m impressed," I admitted. "North Dakota has a lot to offer tourists. But so do other states. How do you compare with them?"

"Easy," he chortled. "We’re smarter than some. Kansas once passed a law to round pi from 3.14159265 down to three. Now, that’s dumb. Alaska? Hey, they don’t even have an official state motto. We got three! Sioux State, Peace Garden State, and Flickertail State. Rhode Island prison inmates had to get a law passed to change their underwear once a week. North Dakota convicts get fresh shorts two-three times. And Kentucky? Who’d live in a state where they got a law requiring everybody to bathe at least once a year? North Dakotans bathe monthly, need it or not."

"‘Enough said, Al," I replied. "You’ve done your homework and, in some small ways, North Dakota seems great compared with other states. But, seriously now, what’s the really big attraction of living in North Dakota?"

"Look, Bob, it’s peaceful here. Nice people, quiet, almost worry-free, and damn good neighbors ta boot! We laugh, play, cry, and work like anybody else. We’re normal, ordinary folk."

"Al, lots of Americans fail to understand or appreciate North Dakota. What’s your biggest gripe about them?"

"They ain’t been here, but they still think we’re all a buncha over-seventy geezers and mortuary bait with something wrong with our butts, hobblin’ down Main Street sprinklin’ weed killer and goin’ to the bingo parlor. They think our kids are a buncha hayseeds who get off checkin’ out corpses sittin’ on our park benches. While there ain’t always a lot to do, we’re not jest waxworks farmers sittin’ around, staring at black-and-white TVs with our wives and five kids. All kind of nice folks live here and they like and respect each other. Maybe we don’t smell the roses like you guys in Oregon, but we can smell the sunflowers and look at amber waves of grain and that stuff. We jest live in a different kind of paradise."

That different-kind-of-paradise angle reeled me in. So I thanked Al and started to hang up when he blurted out one more tourist tip.

"Bobbo, ya gotta see the world’s largest buffalo at Jamestown. Sixty tons of concrete—’nuf to pave a county road!"

That did it! This prodigal son is gonna get back to North Dakota to rediscover his roots. Excuse me. I’m packing!

Profile
Robert J. Brake is known to his close friends and family as "Oobear." Although he claims "folks back home" in North Dakota call him "Bobbo," he is too audacious and eclectic for me to find this handle credible.

A true stylist, Robert employs comedic elements in everything he does. After three decades of university teaching, he thinks of himself as a performer—meticulously staging events in the classroom to cajole students into learning. Humor, play, and participation are the tools of this gifted teacher. Yet rarely is his style understood by peers.

Although he has written and published scores of academic pieces, Robert’s greatest love is writing and reading humor. Most admired are S.J. Perelman, Woody Allen, and Garrison Keillor.

In Keillor’s Book of Guys, men are portrayed as goofy guys at heart. "Bobbo" is one goofy guy and Robert has made an art of it.

—Janice Sethne

Bio
Robert J. Brake
Place of residence: Portland, Oregon.
Birthplace: Jamestown, North Dakota.
Day job: Professor of Business, Concordia University, Portland.
Education: B.S., North Dakota State University. M.A., University of South Dakota. Ph.D., Michigan State University.
Serial publications: Numerous articles on business topics.
Awards: Outstanding Young Teacher. Best Lecturer. Business Communicator of the Year.
Current project: A book about lessons learned from teachers.
Favorite book: Book of Guys by Garrison Keillor.
Cravings: An overwhelming desire to be someone else and a modest ambition to save mankind.

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