When in Corn Country

Yesterday I drove the width of South Dakota on the 90. It's a long road of flat, flat, flat expanse, bales of grass, and corn fields, punctuated with earnest billboard advertising the local family friendly enticements. Kids love it! Clean bathrooms!

In any other universe, such a place would be too hokey for words. But after hours of nothing, even hokey starts looking interesting. So after a hundred or so miles of billboards for the Corn Palace, and in need of a potty break I thought, what the heck... I'll bite.

I thought Iowa was the corn state but this palace would have you believe that SoDak has inherited the sparkly crown and glittery sash. Started around the turn of the last century, and once originally made all of corn, the building now has a bricks and mortar shell. It is, however, entirely decorated inside and out with murals made of corn ears. It is concert hall of sorts (Kenny Rogers is coming soon!) piped full of yodelly country numbers, many with an easy two-step lilt. The main floor is given to merchandising when no event is scheduled. In addition to overpriced souvenirs and magnets for all the states, it is a corn-a-palooza. Corn jewelery, popcorn, candy corn, kettle corn, corn jelly (?) baskets from corn husks, corn-on-the-cob widgets, corn this, corn that, and corn everything else.

Except for, blessedly, the toilet paper.