We could handle the locator map of Grand Island. We eased beyond the editorial cartoon, the one with the talking livestock and decided lack of humor. We hopped right over smugness, the entitlement attitude, the foregone conclusions.

But namecalling?

Please.

I speak of the ongoing subplot to the story of the Nebraska State Fair moving to Grand Island from Lincoln in 2010, a trash-talking tale that questioned everything from our smarts to our sophistication.

In the weeks leading to the vote and mostly on Internet forums Grand Island was charged with any number of misdemeanors, all because we had a better plan, a superior mousetrap, smart people at the bat, serious moxie and a bunch of passion all around.

Our team came ready to play ball: clear-eyed, composed and confident.

As it turned out, bidding for the State Fair was right in our team's wheelhouse.

And they knocked it out of the park.

To which some in Lincoln and around the state responded by questioning our big event bona fides, our leadership chops, even our intellect.

They predicted we will fail, that the State Fair is coming here to die. They somberly reasoned that few would travel from Lincoln to Grand Island, the distance too great, the effort too exhausting. They wagged a finger in our faces, scolding and sputtering.

Then a couple of them called us names.

Tried to laugh

If you're looking for an in-kind response, you're reading the wrong column.

That's because if I'm calling you names or throwing you under the ad hominem bus, I'm out of ideas.

Still, the exercise to move the State Fair exposed a fascinating parochialism among Nebraska communities and regions. Along with it came the employment of basic stereotypes. I suppose much of that was convenience one size city means this, a bigger one means that, however wrong the assessment may be. Nor am I naive enough to think that some mean-spiritedness was afoot.

Still, I tried to laugh last week when someone from Lincoln invoked the H-word: hillbilly.

I couldn't.

I have enormous amount respect for Sen. Annette Dubas of Fullerton, a bright light in the legislature. She is informed, thoughtful and articulate. During state fair debate on the floor, she responded to the hillbilly comment in the Lincoln Journal Star by claiming, with some pride, her "hillbilly" roots.

I know what she was going for, but the writer meant hillbilly in its most demeaning form.

The team that put together Grand Island's proposal was savvy, straightforward and smooth, hardly the definition or use the lexicographers at Random House Unabridged had in mind when they emphasized the word was "Often Disparaging and Offensive."

Sure, it was one comment, but so wide of the mark it merits mention.

Carpet, silver

Perspective was garbled, too.

Having lived for a decade in an area of nearly 10 million, it was not unusual to hear people there disparage Omaha, which I considered a booming city and now earning a national reputation, as a cow town.

Surely some in Omaha hold a similar view of Lincoln and, as we've already seen, some in the Capitol City see us the same way.

If all that sounds familiar, perhaps it's because we nurture a similar image of towns smaller than us.

It happens, however misguided or inaccurate.

Fierce competition among Nebraska cities for economic development plums and big events will continue, so passions naturally will run high. That's good. Competition makes us better.

We know. We've tasted second place plenty of times, worn the silver medal. We've donned the bridesmaid's dress and the also-rans' silks. We've fiddled beautifully from the second chair.

This time we won.

If you're from Lincoln and points east, join us in 2010 when the Nebraska State Fair opens in Grand Island. Please, come see us. We'll find some red carpet and polish the silver and make your stay as pleasant as we can.

It's our way of saying, "Nothing personal."