Open Space and ‘N.D. Nice’: Any Takers?

To those readers who first noticed my absence three weeks ago and began worrying frantically if I’d dropped off the end of the Earth, the answer is no.

I went to North Dakota.

No jokes, please.

I traveled the state for two weeks, met its 25 delegates and alternates to the Democratic National Convention and then chronicled their week in Los Angeles.

Now that I’ve forsaken Fargo for the comforts of Huntington Beach, I bring Orange County residents this message:

North Dakota wants you. At least, some in the state do.

And while they didn’t specifically mention Orange County by name, you’re exactly the kind of folks they’d like to have move into their state. They want people with family values. I’m thinking Mission Viejo. They want entrepreneurs with ready-made skills who are looking to start a business. I’m thinking Irvine.

What’s in it for you?

How about a five-minute commute to work, like what many people in the state capital of Bismarck have? How about movie ticket prices that are still $6.50? How about fellow residents where there’s such an emphasis on being civil that the Fargo newspaper editorial page recently referred to “North Dakota Nice,” apparently an unofficial statewide way of behaving?

“North Dakota is a diamond in the rough, in terms of economic potential,” says Jim Maxson, a Minot lawyer and incoming Democratic national committeeman. Lamentably, he says, the state hasn’t lived up to its potential.

“They like low population, little traffic, clean air, low crime rate, and they equate hyper-economic development with the appurtenant social problems.”

Tired of feeling squeezed in Orange County? Let’s just say North Dakota has room for you.

Orange County has put 2.6 million people (and counting) into 800 square miles. North Dakota has 71,000 square miles and 630,000 residents.

‘I Hadn’t Seen the Stars for 3 or 4 Years’

Fargo businesswoman Mary Ekstrom is so convinced North Dakota can sell itself that she’s even doodled with ads she’d like to run in places like Los Angeles and Seattle. Her slogan: “Know Open Spaces.”

We metropolitans like to wax nostalgic about the heartland and the virtues of a simpler life. Bismarck lawyer Sarah Vogel is practically the living embodiment of it.

She grew up in North Dakota, then went off to New York University Law School and a successful career. Everything changed on one family visit back to North Dakota in the early 1980s.

“I hadn’t seen the stars for three or four years, my son couldn’t play outside without always being supervised and then one time back in North Dakota I looked outside my window and there were some little guys, probably 5 or 6 years old, riding by with their bikes with fishing poles attached. That kind of decided it for me. So I moved back.”

Downside? What downside to living in North Dakota.

“Too hot, too buggy, too boring.”

That’s how one young Bismarck office worker described the state in August. I told her I was enjoying my two weeks in the state, and she didn’t believe me.

And, sure, it does get a bit chilly in winter. But they have cable.

An East Coast friend of mine says there’s a reason only 630,000 people live in North Dakota. A tad isolated, a tad forbidding, he says.

True, it ain’t Disneyland.

And even Maxson, a Minnesota transplant who moved to Minot 27 years ago and stayed, confesses to a love-hate relationship.

“I love the people of North Dakota,” he says. “They are . . . nice. And those who aren’t are so easy to spot that you just stay out of their way. They wind up being out of the loop.

“But the state has a tendency to look more to the past than the future. Maybe that’s a Midwestern trait.”

Maxson is convinced the state could grow from 630,000 to a million. “Look at the geographic size of the state,” he says. “We could easily have 350,000 more people and still have the quality of life that, in my opinion, would be superlative.”

All the state needs is a few hardy volunteers.

Orange County, you’re getting the first shot. If you need directions, just give me a call.

Dana Parsons’ column appears Wednesday, Friday and Sunday. Readers can reach Parsons by calling (714) 966-7821 or by e-mail to dana.parsons@latimes.com.