“This here emergency meeting of the Homeland Security Committee will come to order,” Chairman Ork Dorken demanded as he pounded an old Coke bottle on his table – a makeshift hallow core door.

The raucous crowd of 12 electors quickly seated themselves under the biggest community hall window, where a 16-mile wind was sweeping through and tamping down 93 degrees of stifling heat.

“We have only one thing on our agenda – the third-year report of the Committee on Destination City,” Ork explained. “This is the third year Orville Jordan will report – with some progress we hope.”

“Yeah!” piped up little Jimmy, the only attendee not on Social Security. “I stopped at the Kindly Rest Area and got a copy of the North Dakota Travel Guide of which there were enough for five more years, and almost every town in North Dakota claims an attraction.”

“Well, Orville, what have you got for us to launch some attraction that will get us in the next travel guide,” quizzed Ork.

“It’s really hard for our town to find a niche, being we’re small, destitute with citizens who can’t do a lot of work anymore,” Orville reported as he nervously shifted from one foot to the other, knowing he was in a tight spot.

“The problem with becoming a destination city,” observed Chief Security Officer Garvey Erfald, “is that almost every idea has been taken.”

“I been thinkin’ about gettin’ some kind of big animal like the buffalo in Jamestown or the turtle in Bottineau and all those iron ones around Regent,” Holger Danske mused.

“All that’s left for sure is a skunk,” Little Jimmy suggested, smiling at his sense of humor.

“The problem with being a destination city is: what do we do if somebody comes?” Dorff Wortt asked. “We have no motels or campgrounds or restaurants or sandwich machines.”

“Maybe that’s when somebody should open a bed and breakfast,” offered Lucy Crank.

“The bed would have to be a pull-out couch ’cause it wouldn’t pay to open anything permanent,” noted Old Sievert.

“I spose all of you have heard that they spent $750,000,000 to rebuild Noah’s ark in Kentucky and it has everyone puzzled about how Noah and his boys could build that kind of thing where there were no trees,” Einar Torvold wondered.

“But it is raking in the people and the money,” Garvey added. “The other big Bible project we could do is the Tower of Babel, which wouldn’t cost all that much.”

“Garvey, I think you have something there,” interjected Little Jimmy. “All we need is a tree stand – I’ll bet they sell them at Menards – about 20 feet high, from where visitors could see most of North Dakota. We could build around it with ladders and binoculars for visitors and make it our attraction.”

“That sure is something with possibilities,” Orville welcomed the help.

“With all this flat land, we could have a mid-state garden – about a couple acres of cucumbers, melons, carrots, beans and other veggies – and invite people to come and pick. Hebron is having watermelon days right now and people are coming,” Dorff dreamed.

“Let’s not overlook cultural opportunities,” Madeleine Morgan, the immigrant from Montana, proposed.

Old Sievert rolled his eyes. He just hated to have Madeleine speak when she has been in town for only four years.

“Look at what they did in Pekin,” Madeleine continued. “One person led the charge for a culture and they now have the Nelson County Arts Council.”

“Sounds to me that we have a lot of fodder for our next destination meeting,” Orville chimed in. “We should have a plan by 2024.”

“That’s enough!” Chairman Ork exclaimed as he rapped his Coke bottle. “Meeting is adjourned.”

Lloyd Omdahl is a former lieutenant governor of North Dakota and former political science professor at the University of North Dakota, Grand Forks.