to fargo or not to fargo?

Fargo is notorious for wood chippers, so naturally I was a skeptic.

We spent a majority of our ride from Minneapolis to Fargo making fun of it in various ways, combined with asking each other questions about what kind of animal we would be if we lived in the land, sea or air, respectively.

When we arrived, it was as if someone had airlifted the Mall of America and shattered into little pieces, scattering every retail chain store imaginable in a neat, condensed area known as Fargo.

We discovered that Fargo has the highest concentration of restaurants per capita in the United States, mostly unoriginal and stale. However, the downtown area gets props for its free parking, old 60’s charm and Midwestern hospitality, making up for the suburban clone field lying on its outskirts.

I wish I would’ve had more interesting Fargo native experiences—then I could report something new about this sleepy town made famous by film—but I can’t.

My thesis on Fargo is this: If you want to raise your children in a safe-but-sheltered area of Midwestern America, where they will likely immediately move away from after high school and do something rebellious in college, move to Fargo.

At least you’ll never run out of places to eat.