Fargo

Fargo North Dakota is a city that will never shake off the notorious reputation it received from the movie bearing its name. Ever been there? Last Wednesday I drove more than two hundred and fifty miles from Minneapolis to Fargo for some meetings and spent the night in the Courtyard in Moorhead Minnesota. That’s right, part of my territory is North and South Dakota. The last two trips I stopped in Alexandria, MN, but skipped it since I was running a little late heading to and from Fargo. This late in the summer the acres and miles of crops were pulled leaving open land as far as the eye could see. Faint rainstorms faded away as I drove in drizzle. Bugs splattered on the windshield, as I drove the rented Cadillac Escalade on Highway 94. Thank you for the satellite radio. The last time I was in Fargo was two years ago? I feel as if I wasn’t there last year, but it’s my third trip and hopefully not my last, since I never really investigated the town. It’s flat. There are strip malls. There is minor league team there, and they are in first place in the independent league. Some cars are old and beat up as if they saw too many horrendous winters, with salt and sand that chewed away at the metal, bearing rusted wounds, and spilling out smoke from loose tailpipes. I get into Fargo for some meetings and get out spending the night in Minneapolis before flying back to Long Island. I plan my trips so I can catch a Twins game. I was able to walk to their new stadium from the Renaissance Hotel. It’s a good clip, and I wished I changed into a T-shirt and brought shorts. It was humid. The next morning I went for my jog over some of the local bridges and across the river…it’s a beautiful run and I’m glad I got it in. I was going to spoil myself and sleep in since I stayed in a suite. When I got back, I took a shower and changed and had a quick bite in the concierge level and caught my 9:30 flight.