flow through Bismarck-area motels,nrestaurants, and shopping malls betweennApril 6 and mid-June. (Did younknow that Bismarck has the largest mallnbetween Minneapolis and Seattle? It’snworth a trip.) There are five people onna team. That’s 40,000 people — neadynas many as live in Bismarck (Mandannhas 15,000). These teams will stay annaverage of four days. Forty thousandnhungry, tired, ready-to-party or readyto-shopnpeople times four days — it’snenough to make city fathers swoon andnthe downtowners dress up their windowsnwith pins and balls.nAnd all the time there is the smugnknowledge that two weeks after the lastnof the bowlers leave town, the state’snCentennial celebration will begin. Anothern50,000 people are expected overnthe long Fourth of July weekend:n50,000 people who came prepared tonspend. Pabst, the German god of serendipity,nis smiling on Bismarck for anchange.nNorth Dakota’s most famous daughter,nAngie Dickinson, will be in Bismarcknfor the Centennial festivitiesnfrom July 1-4. So will Myron Floren,nthe renowned South Dakotan accordionistnfor North Dakotan LawrencenWelk. Bobby Vee (Fargo, North Dakota),nis coming, and so is Roy Clark (notnfrom North Dakota, so it doesn’t matternwhere he’s from). North Dakota’snfamous Western novelist, LouisnL’Amour, is dead. President Bush hasnbeen invited, although this isn’t one ofnhis home states.nThere is a special Centennial commission,nand one of its duties is tonsanction special Centennial events andnproducts — Centennial mugs containingnlite salad dressing. Centennial marblenetchings of moose and bison. Centennialnhoney, gigantic Centennial beltnFor Immediate ServicenChroniclesnSUBSCRIBERSnTOLL FREE NUMBERn1-800-435-0715nILLINOIS RESIDENTSn1-800-892-0753n50/CHRONICLESnbuckles for Centennial jeans.nHundreds of Germans and Norwegians—realnones, from Germanynand Norway — have chosen to leaventhe fjords and the Alps and come tonBismarck for the Centennial. (Thosenjokes they tell about each other’s intelligencenappear to be true.) There willnbe a choir from the People’s Republicnof China, a cavalry unit, a 300-unitnwagon train parade, and an Indianncamp. (Apparently there’s still a law onnthe North Dakota books making itnlegal to shoot an Indian from a wagonntrain. Some of the Indians are nervousnabout that law, but there’s no move innthe legislature to repeal it.) There willnbe four full days of ethnic and patrioticnactivities across the state, with the “Partynof the Century” in the capital city,nmosfly on the capitol grounds (there’snalso a bill to make Monday, July 3, anstate holiday just for this year), and onnthe 4th a local network affiliate willndevote the entire day and evening tonthe festivities.nThe seventeen-story capitol buildingnmay be outlined with Christmasntree bulbs at night. Another suggestionnwas thousands of candles in little holders,nthe light from which would shinenup and onto the face of the capitolnbuilding—but this year will probablynbe as dangerously dry as last. At thisnwriting, various committees are busynfinding parking and housing for all thenexpected cars and RV’s. Then therenare the porta-potties, telephones, firstaidnunits, and handicapped accessnproblems to worry about, and the biggestnproblem of all — finding enoughnice for all the concessions — especiallynif it’s over 100 and windy, the way itnwas last year.nOf course, the god Pabst could solventhat problem, too.nAll of this is corny as hell, and no,nyou won’t find it happening in majornmetropolitan centers. It only happensnwhere there is a possibility of communitynlife. And when it does happen,npeople know it’s corny and like it thatnway. There is a huge intrinsic differencenbetween the flawlessly choreographednfestivities put on by paid PRnexperts in, say. New York City on ournnation’s Bicentennial 13 years ago, andnthese little but bighearted local andnregional explosions of exuberance andnsentimentality. The difference is thatnthe small, corny celebrations are au­nnnthentic, or they don’t happen.nTake the women bowlers (please).nStruggling Bismarck businesses knewnfour years ago, when the Conventionnand Visitors Bureau announced thatnthey’d nailed up that convention, thatnit meant Something Big. They weren’tnsure what or how much, and time willntell whether the estimates are right; innJanuary, Bismarck television and newspaperneditorials were still wonderingnwhere all those women were going tonsleep, and whether Bismarck had bittennoff more than it could chew, ruining itsnchances of ever getting another bignconvention. But the townspeople,nmost of them, are grateful and preparednto take advantage of the gift.nThey’re willing to have faith that thenWIBC will do some good, directly ornindirectiy, for nearly everyone in thencity. Who in New York or Chicago ornLos Angeles could ever say that? Whonthere still believes that anything goodncan happen to a large number ofnordinary people?nAs for the North Dakota State Centennial,nit’s nothing more — or less —nthan one huge family reunion, withnsome guests invited. Families andnfriends will be drawing together notnonly from all over the country, butnfrom all over the world. Residents willnbe opening up their homes to strangers,nfor free. In North Dakota, peoplenjust haven’t come that far, psychologicallynspeaking, from the days when thenhorse was their best means of transportationnand there was only “Dakota” —nand they’re tenaciously proud of thatnpioneer racial memory. They wouldnhold this hundred-year celebrationneven if there weren’t money to make.nThey would hold it if it cost themnmoney — and it will, many of them.nNorth Dakotans (and South Dakotans,nand Montanans, and Washingtonians)nwill, in 1989, buy their T-shirts andnhats and jackets and buttons and beltnbuckles and lite salad dressing in sanctionednCentennial mugs. Those whonlive in Bismarck or anywhere for 50nmiles around the state capital will openntheir doors to all the relatives andnanyone else who wants to sleep on ancot or on the floor.nWhen they’re caught at it, they’llngrin and shrug, “I may not be aroundnfor the next one.”nJane Greer edits Plains Poetry Journal.n