Trip to Fargo

We have a little charade we go through at the nursery when somebody wants to take a trip to Fargo. The trip cannot be for pleasure, it must have a business justification. The flimsier the excuse the better. Today, I am going to run down and get my oil changed. I could do it myself in the shop, or I could do it locally, but no, I am going to Fargo to the big dealership. Hardly worth a 140 mile round trip. But we also have run short of potato chips. And I am out of milk.

Of course, the real reason to go to Fargo is to get away. To see civilization. To hang out at Barnes and Noble. To scavenge at Wal-mart. To wander the mall and watch people you don't know. To east something in a restaurant besides a hot beef sandwich. Behind the flimsy business justifications hides a simple need for a change in scenery. After seeing the bustle of the mall, and the nightmare of the Wal-mart parking lot, and after enduring the long waits at the stoplights--the empty roads around home look better than they did that very morning.