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Last weekend I took a trip to the Vegas of the Midwest (minus strippers): Branson, Mo. My father and I ventured to Branson for some family fun a couple years ago, but this time we decided to take along my boyfriend for good measure (and because my parents are realizing he’s going to be a permanent fixture in the family).

Branson, founded on a history of family entertainment and biscuits and gravy, is a town of just over 6,000 people that hosted over 8.4 million visitors in 2007. This small town near the Arkansas border is lined with glitzy, multi-million dollar theatres, over 200 hotels, and 400 restaurants for tourists to throw their money at. The drive is roughly eight hours from CU, and once you turn onto Interstate-65 around Springfield, Mo. you are bombarded with billboards for family musical acts and stars of yesteryear who have found second financial life playing shows in Branson.

Branson, unlike any other place I’ve ever been, seems to be booming by appealing to people with a kind of simple, apple pie brand of fun that some might think has lost its appeal. But in the three full days we were in Branson we went swimming, attended a Polynesian Luau, saw The Duttons (a family that was recently on the ABC show America’s Got Talent), rode roller coasters and held baby bunnies at Silver Dollar City, and ate massive amounts of Chicken at an indoor rodeo/dinner show in a giant theatre fashioned like a Southern plantation home (that is consequently owned by Dolly Parton). It was fun, and an experience far removed from the rhythm of everyday life in CU.

In recent years Americans seem harder to entertain. We’re used to people eating bull testicles and doing stupid shit on YouTube, so we’ve seen it all. But somehow Branson seems to entertain millions with clean, family entertainment. Maybe we aren’t quite as jaded as we think. Maybe we just need a little taste of Americana to remind us of it.