Wild Wild MidWest

The United States has serious issues with its labels for geographical regions. We have moved 1,288 miles north and west of our previous location. We are now two time zones away from where we were before and yet, somehow, both Ohio and North Dakota are part of the "mid-west" of our country. As my son, David John, would say, "What the?!?!"
Anyway, despite being in the same region of the country, I can definitely say, "We're not in Cleveland anymore, Toto." Let me outline some of the differences for you:
1.Ohio is definitely a swing state. In Ohio, the language tends to be very PC. Politics tends to be a touchy subject. North Dakota, on the other hand, is a red state. People here tend to say what they think and it usually has a conservative bent. Frankly, it is kind of refreshing. I think it works here, not only because the population tends to be more homogeneous in their political opinions but because North Dakotans are just so darn nice and polite. This brings me to the next point...
2.People in North Dakota are NICE. I mean beyond nice. Talk about midwestern hospitality. Don't get me wrong, many people in Ohio were very friendly. We love Ohioans, but as a rule it was easy enough to find surly people in any customer service department or fast food restaurant. North Dakota takes the word nice to a whole new level. In the almost two months we've lived here I have run into exactly 2 surly people. When I landed in the airport here my ride was a little bit late to pick me up. I had multiple people ask me if I was okay, if I had a ride and a very nice couple offered to throw my things in the back of their truck and drive me home. I have been to McDonalds once here and it is the first time in all of my McDonalds experiences in which I felt that the woman running the drive-through was sincere when she said "Thank you for choosing McDonalds. We're happy to serve you today." During our closing, the realtors took turns holding Tobias and cooing over him. The amazing people who sold us our house even filled up the propane tank on the gas grill they left us and we found this cute sign on the chalkboard when we arrived.

People here are so nice that only time I have heard horns being honked is when someone is trying to say hello to a friend. We have received treats and gifts from so many neighbors and other community members, I don't know how we are ever going to repay all the kindness.
3.In Cleveland, we lived primarily in a community of young professionals. The economy there is based on medical care. Here, we are living in a community of people with amazing hands-on skills in an economy based on agriculture and oil. This was evident in church when someone commented that many young people today are lacking in some basic skills and that we, as parents, need to make sure our children are being taught these skills. You know, the basics, like breaking down an engine and sweating a pipe fitting. These comments made me feel a little jealous. There is something so empowering about understanding and being able to fix things. I felt like superwoman last month when I replaced a fitting on the gas line for our grill and got to use plumbers tape. Oh yeah, I'm hardcore. I think it is telling that many of the doctors and staff at Marc's clinic also raise cattle. I'm betting no one at the Cleveland Clinic had a dual life as a rancher. This brings me to difference number four.
4. Everyone, and I mean everyone, here owns a truck and a pair of boots. We fully plan on buying into the boots fashion statement but I think we have to hold our ground and become North Dakota's token non-truck owners. My mother, who grew up in Arkansas, told me when she visited that she has never seen so many trucks in her entire life. I tried and failed to find some statistics about truck ownership but I can tell you that North Dakota is one of the top seven states for vehicles per capita. I guarantee it's because everyone owns a car AND at least one truck.

So, while the small town politics and politeness has a very midwestern feel, the boots and the trucks give the place a western edge. Actually, I think that's the town slogan, "The Western Edge." I mean, the high school here has a rodeo team and we got to experience the cowboy culture first hand during the annual Roughrider Days. Here are a few pictures from our first professional rodeo experience:
The big boys loved watching the rodeo action.

I was amazed at the bronco riding. I don't know how those guys stay on. I confess, though, to identifying more with the horse than the rider. I know what it's like to have someone riding your back and you just can't seem to shake them off. Of course, I have up to five of them clinging to me at one time, with their bodies wrapped around my legs and calling my name repeatedly while I am trying to hear someone on the phone. Still- you and me bronco. I think we have an understanding.

David John was less enamored of the whole experience. He kept asking, "When is the fun starting?" to which I would reply, "This IS the fun!" I took him on walks around the bleachers to get his wiggles out, but after he ran away several times and attempted to climb the fence and get in the rodeo arena I gave up on that tactic. He seemed to like the roping a little better than the bronco riding although he was concerned about the comfort of the "baby cow".

Benjamin was also unimpressed by the rodeo spectacle and spent most of his time smarming his way into the laps and hearts of several grandparent types who were sitting around us. These men and women were so kind and patient with him wanting to climb up on their knee, play with their car keys, wear their hats and eat their snacks. Little stinker. He did seem to like the rodeo clown but even that didn't hold his attention for long.

Benjamin and David John both left a little early with Daddy to go wait in the car so that the big boys could enjoy the last of the rodeo in peace and so we wouldn't lose either of the little runaways in the big rodeo crowd. "Where was Tobias during all of this?" you may ask. He was sleeping in the lap of another kind woman who was sitting next to our family and noticed we might need an extra pair of hands. It's really too bad Marc had to leave with the little guys. He missed the most exciting part- the bull riding. These bulls weren't messing around. One of them nearly jumped right over the walls of his gate. The rodeo clown stands in a barrel for protection during the bull riding and it is a good thing. One of the bulls charged right at him, so he ducked down inside the barrel which the bull proceeded to knock over and then roll across the arena. One of the bull riders got thrown off pretty quickly after which the bull charged one of the assistant rodeo clowns. The assistant jumped in the air just as the bull lowered his head and ran, with the result being that the rodeo clown landed on the bull's back and HE rode the bull for a few seconds before getting thrown. It was pretty thrilling.

Welcome to the wild wild midwest.