Downtown Nampa: Coy Bettie’s

Downtown NampaThe campaign begins.

I first heard the term BoDo 10 years ago while living near the Depot in Boise. Thus began the campaign to reimagine the once desiccated interior of the thriving (ill-planned) capital city of Idaho.

At 83,000 residents Nampa, Idaho is the second largest city in the state. Both the redneck and spiritual center of the state, Nampa is the rural, God-fearing workingman’s urban hub.

After a stint in Utah, my wife and I have returned to Idaho. Not to the empty rustling of Boise, but to the soul-cleansing pace of Nampa. Having suffered a series of brutal economic blows and setbacks, downtown Nampa now teeters at the brink. Or maybe it’s a turning point.

Step aside BoDo. It’s our turn. It’s time for some DNT. (Official revival name yet to be determined, but work with me on this.)

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Freelance Arguer for Hire (book a performance today!)

arguingOh the joys of a good argument. I’m thinking about going freelance. Not as an arbiter, but an arguer. Not to toot my own horn, but I’m pretty good at it. Better than you anyway. (Oh yeah? Takes one to know one. So there.)

Any chimp who knows ASL can arbitrate. What the world needs during these unstable times are some good, knock down, drag out arguments that end with everyone a winner. How, you may ask, is such a ridiculous thing possible? (Oh, so I’m ridiculous now? Well, if you didn’t have nougat for brains– sorry, sorry. It just comes so natural.) You see dear reader, I’m talking about surrogate arguers–professionals, like me (or like I will be once I design a certificate and print it off).

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The Need for Irregular “Regulars”

Cheers Where Everybody knows your nameSuch a funny word, regular, stemming from the Latin root, regula or ‘rule.’

regular |ˈregyələr; ˈreg(ə)lər|adjective (of a person): doing the same thing or going to the same place with the same time between individual instances.

All I know is that my trip to the donut shop this past Sunday morning (to celebrate donut month) became a significantly richer experience because of two “colorful characters” bantering with the the lady behind the counter as well as my son and I. While the experience emphasized my own lack of ‘regularness’ (being newly transplanted to Nampa, Idaho), it also illustrated the critical need American society has for such irregular regulars.

Stemming from my high school addiction to late-night reruns of Cheers (“Where everybody knows your name”), I’ve always longed for regular status (even while I ‘raged against the machine’). Not necessarily a Cliff or Norm, but someone who could simply nod to the establishment for a quick cup or bowl of ‘the regular.’ Who hasn’t craved such status? (only asocial loners, I assure you.)

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