If challenged to do so, relatively few Americans could probably find
North and South Dakota on a map, let alone correctly name, spell,
and pronounce the capitals of the two states. Nor would they be able
to recall anything interesting about the Dakotas, whose main tourist
attractions, besides Mount Rushmore, are a drug store, a civic arena
festooned in corn, and a peace garden. Although one of the Dakotas
bills itself as “The Land of Infinite Variety,” its sociocultural
diversity consists primarily of different synods of Lutherans who
engage in endless disputation with one another because they are so
similar. Dakotans prefer their food bland—they consider ketchup
daringly spicy—and their politicians low-key. When they encounter
something new, they call it “different,” which they rarely mean as a
compliment, and they wait for it to go away—which, because there is
so little to hold it in the Dakotas, it probably will do. They keep
their opinions to themselves (a typical Dakotan being the fellow
from Sioux Falls who loved his wife so much that he almost told
her), and they do not like it when people make a fuss about
themselves or anything else. Thus, when South Dakotans perceived the
previously popular Senator George McGovern as having gotten too big
for his britches by seeking the presidency in 1972, they saw to it
that he would fail to carry his home state, and three decades later
they voted long-time Senator Tom Daschle out of office as soon as he
repeated McGovern's mistake of seeing a president whenever he gazed
into a mirror.