By Jodi Rae Ingstad 

Those who don’t have it should go on a pilgrimage to find it. Those who have it and realize it can use it for the greater good of themselves and anyone they come into contact with.
America would be instantaneously better if everyone possessed this.
The thing I am referencing is really not a thing at all. It’s an unseen phenomenon that tickles a fancy and makes a belly wiggle a little. Some of us have too much of it and it. When I have too much of it those with none of it dare to make statements such as, “Tone it down,” or “What drugs are you smoking?”
When my mother died and didn’t show up at her own funeral because her cremation wasn’t complete yet brought about a lot of it. When I welcomed a U.S. soldier home from Iraq by acknowledging that “The IUD’s along the roadside must have been very scary,” brought on even more of it.  
Everyone knows that an I.E.D, otherwise known as “Improvised Explosive Device” has nothing at all to do with birth control like an I.U.D, otherwise known as “Intrauterine Contraceptive Device.”  Sometimes my tongue and mind make a muck of what I’m really trying to say. This just brings out more of it.
The “it” I refer to is laughter. Most things are funny to me-sometimes even inappropriately so.
I was chosen to help the Lutheran minister serve communion at our church in Kindred. I was following him on the sacred alter with a group of church members solemnly on their knees. They accepted the body of Christ given for them and then drank the wine. It was my job to collect the empty wine cups.  
The problem came to light when I realized that the people drinking the wine were my teachers. My science teacher was there, my principal and even my piano teacher showed up.
Being raised in an alcoholic home had me correlating any amount of drinking with drunkenness. I thought if it touched your lips you’d be drunk. It was just too humorous to think of my dictator-ish piano teacher getting her buzz on at communion. I was thinking of how fun my piano lesson would be if she just loosened up a little. The principal may just be more “Pal-ly” after drinking wine. Or so I hoped.
As I collected cups after the holy sacrament I got to thinking, “I hope they don’t get the hiccups,” which then exploded into me getting the giggles. It took just seconds for that thought to turn my giggle into full blown, God-given laughter.
There was only one problem with that. I still had over half an alter of people to be a serious servant to and I was beyond myself in tears of humor. I realized I shouldn’t be laughing but there was no stopping it. I had been filled with the Holy Spirit of all things funny which hid all things painful from the past.
It’s no surprise to me then that on this night I am watching the presidential debate and laughing. There is a sign in the bottom left corner of the screen that reads, “Uncommitted Ohio Voters.” Next to it are squiggly lines representing men and women.
As the candidates debate, the uncommitted voters are turning their knobs in support or disgust of what they are hearing. The squiggly lines the knobs produce look so familiar and then it dawns on me. The lines are peculiarly similar to the lines on the Etch-a-Sketch toy mother used to get us at Christmas.
What if the uncommitted Ohio voters were replaced with uncommitted Ohio children turning knobs of support or disgust at what they were hearing?  And what if nobody told the media of the secret switch-a-roo?
Now that would be a humorous poll that may just have the power to change America for the better just like laughter does.

By Roger Bluhm

 Let the hype end.
Today is Friday, football day, No. 1 vs. No. 2 in a classic clash. Devils Lake invades Valley City. Firebirds taking on Hi-Liners.
It might be wet, muddy and cold. To quote a line in a movie, “Pain heals. Chicks dig scars. Victory lasts forever.”
Now, in a preview story that came out in the Thursday edition of our newspaper, both coaches almost downplayed the game. This clash between unbeatens means nothing in the grand scheme of things.
Both coaches tried to make us believe that it’s more important for the teams to stay healthy, to lock up playoff spots, to make it deep into the postseason.
Yeah, right.
I’m a parent of two teenage girls in Valley City. I’m going to be at this game. I’m going to be cheering for the Hi-Liners to win. I’m going to be yelling and screaming for the Hi-Liners to do whatever necessary to win.
I can bet that every parent of every football player is going to be there – and probably some grandparents, cousins, uncles, third-cousin twice removed – just about the whole family. I’ll also bet some families will go – sort of a tradition of attending the high school events.
I’ll also bet that there is a caravan of people following the Firebirds down from Devils Lake. After all, if you’re the No. 1 team in the state, your family and friends will follow you to every away game.
So, we’ve established there will be two LARGE fan bases at this game. Most will be cheering, screaming, hollering… the atmosphere will be electric. The players and coaches on the field will be able to feel it.
It won’t matter how wet and sloppy the field is. It won’t matter which team has the edge in experience. What will matter is that two teams will take the field sky-high emotionally, riding the cheers of their fans in a classic battle.
OK, so in the grand scheme of things, this game won’t matter much. However, say both teams advance to a deep level in the playoffs. They could meet each other again. Is it possible this game means nothing?
You can’t tell me each team doesn’t want that little edge. You can’t convince me that each coach doesn’t want to be able to tell his team that they can win based on the fact they won before.
This game means much more than nothing. This is bragging rights. This is for the No. 1 ranking in the state and possibly the No. 1 seed in the playoffs. This is to keep alive an unbeaten record with just a handful of games remaining.
This game means everything – for this week.
What both coaches have been doing is gearing their team up for the game, but making sure that if they don’t win, they understand there will be bigger games down the road.
Yes, this game means something. But, next week, win or lose, it doesn’t mean as much. For both coaches are right. After tonight’s game, there is much more on the horizon for both teams.
So, we will do what we do. We will support our team, we will root them to victory, and, if it is not our day for a victory, we will lift them up, continue our support and hope to root them on to a greater victory down the road.
It’s what we do as fans, what we do as parents, and what we can all do for all our youth involved in athletics.
Remember, it’s supposed to be fun and educational. Tonight’s game is important to everyone on the field and in the stands. It’s also not as important as other things and a loss isn’t the end of the world.
Now, having said that, let’s continue the hype. GO HI-LINERS!

Roger Bluhm is publisher of the Valley City Times-Record.

By Steve Browne

I have a terrible thing to confess, I very much enjoyed covering the District 24 candidates' debate last Tuesday, a heck of a lot more than if I'd stayed home and watched the national debate.
I hate to sound wishy-washy on this one, but the fact is there aren't any of them I'd really mind seeing in office.
For a registered Cynic this is an appalling thing, admiring politicians. What's next, law school?
I thought some were better prepared than others, I had disagreements with all of them on some things, but to me it seemed they were all grappling with a common problem, honestly, with genuine concern for the common good and respect for their opponents' positions.
The problem is, how to maintain and advance civilization in a place where civilization has a precarious hold.
Oh my that sounds grand! I'd better explain that remark, before some of the candidates with a flair with jokes get on me about that one.
In another life when I was an anthropologist and studied such things, I learned about the native civilizations of North America. The best-known centered around the Valley of Mexico and the Yucatan, but some had outposts and colonies in what is now the American southwest. There were also native civilizations along the lower Mississippi and Ohio rivers.
The word “civilization” comes from the Latin “civis,” meaning “city.” It is also the root word of “civil,” meaning either “polite,” or “law concerning private rights and obligations,” both essential for large groups of  people living close together.   
Civilized people are people who build and live in cities, i.e. large concentrations of people. Larger, more concentrated  population requires infrastructure, and complicated laws to deal with the friction of many people living close to each other, with all the potential for trouble and mutual annoyance that brings.
Civilization requires constant maintenance, it is not naturally self-sustaining. Follow any public works employee, or any cop around during his work day and you'll see the truth of this.
There were no native civilizations in North Dakota, we are the first ever.
The peoples who came before us in the Dakotas were roaming hunters and gatherers. Other parts of the world which resemble this place, such as the steppes of Russia, supported nomadic herding cultures, not city-builders.
To build a civilization on the great plains far from navigable rivers, required a huge investment in industrial technology: railroads and roads for bulk transportation of grain and goods, advanced plows to cut tough sod, barbed wire cheap enough to fence thousands of miles, and grain and livestock not native to North America.
To maintain it today requires investment and maintenance in public works, law enforcement, education and medical technology that grow ever more expensive. Worse, they grow proportionately more expensive because they are spread thinner to serve fewer people than live in the larger, more concentrated populations near the coasts.
That applies to ambulance, police and fire services, and miles of road, power, water and sewer lines.
Consequently, our citizen-legislators here in the upper mid-west tend to be farmers, businessmen, educators, and in general people skilled in the management of scarce resources.
This makes me wonder, how much of a gap does this create between us and our legislators, and the politicians and bureaucrats of Washington and the larger, older states?
It would be difficult for me to believe, for example, that any of those men at the debate Tuesday night could voluntarily saddle their neighbors with two generations worth of debt, then go home and look them in the eye.
Democrat, Republican, whatever, do those politicians in Washington even understand our lives, our concerns?
Do we really understand their motives and goals?
Are we even the same country anymore?  

Steve Browne is city reporter for the Valley City Times-Record.

By Carla Kelly

I recently read about First Lady Laura Bush’s North Dakota visit. She arrived in Bismarck, then went west to Sims to see a Lutheran church restored by the Save America’s Treasures program. She commented that North Dakota was the last state of the 50 that she has visited, and said, “Truly I saved the best for last.”
I can relate. When I was much younger, I remember thinking that the last places I would ever live in the United States would be Detroit, Miami, and North Dakota. To me, Detroit and Miami are still no-brainers: too many people, too many problems. I included North Dakota because it seemed like the end of the world. I had been through the state once on my way to Minnesota family reunions, but I was too young to remember.
When we moved here I realized what an idiot I had been. What a wonderful state this is. With the possible exception of Wyoming, another state high in my affection, I’ve never lived in a place with cleaner air or kinder people. To claim there is no scenery in North Dakota is to be sightless. From the rolling hills around here, to the stark beauty of the Missouri breaks near the Montana border, North Dakota is stunning.
You already know that. Know this, too: There is no reason to ever be apologetic about North Dakota. Winters can be tough, but spring always comes.
North Dakota gets into us in ways we have no control over. Amanda Hoskisson Bright graduated from Valley City High School a few years back, and went to Brigham Young University in Provo, Utah, to study art. This major naturally involved considerable drawing and painting. After looking at some of her art work, one of her fellow students astutely observed that Amanda’s paintings had a horizontal aspect to them, while the art of students from mountain states emphasized the vertical. Obviously, the plains had sunk deep into Amanda’s heart and mind.
I understand that. I’ve sometimes remarked that mountains can get in the way of the view. Part of my attitude comes from years in south Texas, and also on the plains of Wyoming. I love wide-open spaces and always will.
When I rangered at Fort Union Trading Post NHS, on the Montana-Nodak border, I was in charge of an Elderhostel program on Lewis and Clark. The second summer I did that, a delightful Massachusetts couple joined the group. Sandy was a physician and his wife was a sculptor. They had traveled widely throughout the world, but had never been to North Dakota. (When I began each Elderhostel group, I always asked the participants if they had come to this particular program because North Dakota was the only state they hadn’t visited. Many hands always went up.)
When our program ended on Friday, I said goodbye to everyone except the Massachusetts couple, whose plane wasn’t leaving Williston until Sunday. Because of that, I asked them if they’d like to spend the day with me in the North Unit of Theodore Roosevelt National Park, one place we hadn’t had time to visit.
They accepted with enthusiasm, and we spent a day driving in the park, watching the buffalo, and just hanging out with nature. All through the day, Sandy was like a chocoholic given a year’s supply of M&Ms. This man who had been everywhere told me he had never seen anything like North Dakota’s peace and beauty.
On the way back to Williston, he asked if I could stop so he could pick a handful of wheat. The harvest was over, but as you know, there’s always wheat left around the edges. Sandy picked his handful of wheat. He couldn’t get over how beautiful wheat was, this man who had seen everything. It was as though he had been given the greatest gift in the universe. I’ve never forgotten how that touched me.
I’m glad Laura Bush had a good visit. She couldn’t have picked a better time of year, when all is mellow and the sky an unforgettable shade of blue. According to the newspaper article, she also attended a basement potluck in that Lutheran church, this lady who has been everywhere and seen everything. Perfect.
The last state. There are times when I wish it had been my first state. When we leave here next summer, it will be with sincere regret.