White Trash Weekend

As I mentioned prior, I went home to Dickinson for my very last Fourth of July as a free (read: unemployed and impoverished) woman. While we can all sit around and speculate what happened (again read: alcohol suddenly becomes appropriate for any event), it's difficult to understand what it's going to be like until it actually occurs. And even then, it's hard to believe it's real life. But yes, ladies and gentlemen, I grew up there... I call it home... and even I can't explain it.

This 5 day stretch has been deemed by the Convention and Visitors' Bureau "Roughrider Days" because we can't seem to let go of the fact that Teddy Roosevelt stayed here for a couple days once. We hold tight to the quote about how the Badlands "made him what he was today" (it's all we've got... ND needs something to be proud of..."TR once walked on that grass over there!") If you're really interested, we've written a musical production that is performed every night from Memorial to Labor day in the summer in Medora. Most of us who have grown up here can even sing you a song or two. Or, if bribed with money and/or beer, could reenact the charge up San Juan Hill for you (If you don't know what this is, shame on you. Please google it).

While 'Roughrider Days' is all fine and dandy, I think White Trash Weekend is slightly more fitting. Why? Here's a random sampling of the weekend's events:

You can start by attending 1-4 different rodeos (beer is provided). I have no other information on this, because I, on principle, do not attend rodeos. I was scared shitless as a toddler by the rodeo clowns who blew things up. I did not, and still do not, enjoy loud noises. I also haven't forgotten the clown's name. Dr Ben Crazy. Took me a good 5 years before I didn't scream going to the doctor because I was afraid that fruit loop would show up.

A number of bars also do outdoor beer gardens (Raise your hand if you aren't from southwest ND and still know what a beer garden is). One actually blocks off an intersection in the middle of the road to do Party on the Pavement (too bad if you wanna use that intersection... it's outta commission for a full three days). Party on the Pavement has a different live band every night. Everyone who is anyone over the age of 21 goes. You drink a little too much, you dance to the music, and you do it with your grandma. Why? Because you can. Beware, however. You never know who you'll meet there. Ever consoled a high school teacher who thought she was a bad mother? How 'bout fought off a guy who is convinced you sold him tickets to a concert... and now you're besties? No matter what you choose to do, just remember... that old woman grinding on that pole is probably someone's mother.

Then, if you get bored of that, we try and bring in a band. It's never someone who is currently popular... they're usually someone who WAS popular, or someone we claim is going to be popular soon (don't judge... we got Rascal Flatts before their homerun "God Bless the Broken Road"... look who's laughing now). They also are always a country artist, so if you don't like that, it's really too bad for you. Again, this is something I have never attended, as I'm not an avid country music fan and I would much rather party on the pavement. But this event is open to all ages. So, when you wanna get drunk but have no one to watch the kids... (disclaimer: this author in no way encourages drunk driving/letting your children see you puke on yourself... but it happens more often than not, it seems).

The parade is always Saturday morning, regardless of the date. When I was younger, I used to love catching candy. However, now that I am older and obviously more mature, I like to ride on floats and throw the candy. Or at least, I thought I did. Kids have gotten a lot meaner since I was 6. They now fight with each other and steal things out of each other's hands (the parents don't stop it... some of them are often trying to subtlely steal candy out of their children's bags) I also don't recall running up to floats, demanding candy/frisbees/whatever items they had. I waited my turn, and if I got it, fine (Again, I don't remember my mother doing this either, but we had a few who would come up and shriek in your face, "Lady! I SAID I wanted a frisbee!")

The last day of the weekend is the Demolition Derby. What are we demolishing? Cars, obviously. The drivers build cars out of spare parts and then run them into each other. How do you win? Well, your piece-of-shit car has to outlast the other piece-of-shit cars. If you start on fire, you're automatically disqualified (much to the chagrin of the audience... both loud crashes and large fires get long applause from those of us who pay to attend). Also, it is helpful if you can dress in "derby" attire. Not kentucky derby... Hats here, are baseball caps. And dresses are usually worn a size or two too small without a bra. Guys wear a nice cutoff denim vest and mullets are encouraged. I can't explain to you WHY I go. Just know that I do, and I enjoy it very much.

Just because the city doesn't sponsor it does not mean it can't happen. One of my favorite Roughrider Days events is family barbecues. Not my family, since they usually go out to the cabin, unfortunately (or fortunately...I do enjoy boat time). So I have to crash other family barbecues. Like my best friend Christa's. We had a whole new experience there this weekend. She accidentally sprayed pepper spray in the kitchen, and then turned on the water to wash her hands. Apparently this makes it more potent. Which sort of converts it to tear gas. So now we're all gagging, coughing, and army crawling to safety (had I been a betting woman, I would have bet that someone would puke in the front hall before reaching the freedom of the outdoors). Well, all except Mat and Tom, who were exclaiming that nothing could make them leave the kitchen. We were all in agreeance that this was our first time ever being maced. Well. Almost all of us ("Not me."--Tom Merkel)

White Trash Weekend is a wonderful time. Even though I've had the opportunity to do other, classier (albeit more boring) events, I have always turned it down to go home and partake in Roughrider Days. I am very insistent that I have more fun than you. And would love so very much for you to experience it for yourselves. Put in your time off now. This is not a weekend you want to miss.