The Beauty of Going at Your Own Pace: Discussing Politics At Onida Post Office

Living in South Dakota has a way of resetting your internal clock. In a world obsessed with hustle, optimization, and constant urgency, the Mount Rushmore State quietly whispers a different philosophy: slow down. Let people move at their own pace. And nobody captures that spirit better than Calamity Jane in the HBO series Deadwood.

There’s a scene where Jane, in her gloriously unfiltered way, lays into someone for trying to rush folks. “Let people go at their own pace,” she essentially declares. Everybody follows their own pace and don’t try and hasten them. It’s raw, profane, and profoundly wise — vintage Calamity Jane. That line has stuck with me because it perfectly explains my favorite thing about life out here.

South Dakotans don’t rush you. They don’t honk if you sit a beat too long at a green light. They wait patiently, understanding that maybe you’re enjoying the song on the radio, checking a text, or just lost in thought. There’s an unspoken agreement that life isn’t a race, and forcing someone else’s tempo is rude at best and pointless at worst.

Small-Town Proof: Fixing Phones and Talking Politics in Onida

I experienced this truth recently in the tiny town of Onida, South Dakota (population around 800). I was there to fix the post office phones, which had been down for two full months. After troubleshooting and getting everything working again successfully, what could have been a quick technical job turned into something much more South Dakotan.

Instead of rushing off, I ended up in a lively, hour-long conversation about South Dakota politics with the locals. We covered everything from state issues to national topics, swapping stories and opinions without a hint of rush or judgment. No one was checking their watch. No one sighed or tried to wrap it up. It was just good, unhurried talk in a town where the post office doubles as a community hub — even when the tech guy is on site.

That’s South Dakota in a nutshell. In bigger cities, an hour at the post office might feel like a productivity crime. Out here, it’s just Tuesday. People have time for each other because they make time — or rather, they don’t feel the need to constantly steal it away.

Why This Matters More Than You Think

This “own pace” philosophy runs deeper than traffic etiquette or friendly errands. It reflects a broader cultural respect for individuality within a tight-knit community. South Dakota’s rural character — with its vast prairies, hardworking farmers, and independent spirit — fosters patience and live-and-let-live attitudes. Life here moves to the rhythm of seasons, harvests, and weather, not quarterly earnings calls or viral trends.

Compare that to the constant pressure cooker of coastal metros or even some Midwest suburbs, where impatience is baked into the culture. Tailgating, honking, cutting people off — it all stems from the same toxic idea that your time is more valuable than everyone else’s. South Dakota rejects that. It says your pace is fine. Mine is fine. We’ll get there when we get there.

Calamity Jane would approve. The real historical Jane (and her fictional counterpart) thrived in the chaotic, no-rules frontier of Deadwood. She was messy, human, and fiercely herself — never one to conform to someone else’s schedule or expectations. Embodying that same frontier freedom, modern South Dakotans carry forward her unhurried ethos in their daily lives.

Finding Peace in the Pace

In the end, my favorite thing about South Dakota isn’t just the stunning landscapes, the lack of state income tax, or the friendly faces (though those are all great). It’s the permission to breathe. The cultural norm that says it’s okay to pause at a green light, to chat for an hour at the post office while fixing phones, or to simply exist without someone trying to accelerate you.

If you’re burned out from the grind, consider a trip (or a move) to places like Onida or the wider expanses of western South Dakota. You might just hear Calamity Jane’s voice in the wind: Let people go at their own pace.

And who knows? You might find yourself slowing down too — and liking it.