Historic Downtown Fremont

03/10/2026

02/05/2026

Oh so true. A board needs to be fighters, not Cheerleaders.

Your board is sabotaging you.

Not intentionally. They’re good people who care. But they’re stuck in a fog of politeness, afraid to challenge bad ideas or confront hard truths. They nod along. They avoid conflict. They let mediocrity slide.

This is killing your organization.

Most boards operate like social clubs. Members show up, listen to reports, approve budgets, and go home feeling helpful. Meanwhile, your organization drifts. Nobody asks the uncomfortable questions. Nobody demands excellence. Nobody says “this isn’t good enough.”

You need fighters, not cheerleaders.

A real board doesn’t rubber-stamp. They interrogate. They push back. They force you to defend your assumptions and sharpen your strategy.

They ask: “Why should anyone care about this?” and “What happens if we’re wrong?” They challenge sacred cows. They demand evidence. They make you uncomfortable, in the best way.
This isn’t about being difficult. It’s about being serious.

Stop recruiting based on resumes and connections. Start recruiting for courage and clarity. Find people who will tell you the truth, even when it stings.

Set the expectation from day one: your job isn’t to be nice. It’s to make us better.

Create space for real debate. Kill the consent agenda. Ban “I think we’re all in agreement” when you’re not. Reward dissent.
And fire the dead weight. That board member who hasn’t said anything meaningful in two years? Thank them for their service and move on.

A badass board doesn’t just govern better, it transforms your organization. Decisions get sharper. Strategy gets clearer. Ex*****on gets tougher. You stop coasting and start competing.

Your community deserves better than a polite board. Give them a fierce one.

12/13/2025

12/10/2025

Dressing up your home’s exterior is a civic act in its purest form.

The golden light of November fades into December’s darkness. Moody evening skies give way to bleak afternoons. Autumn ends, and I could sink into full seasonal depression if it weren’t for the holiday lights.

Those lights! As my friend Bernice Radle once said: “Christmas lights make everything better.” I can’t argue.

What strikes me most about holiday decorations is how profoundly unselfish they are. Dressing up your home’s exterior is a civic act in its purest form.

Think about it: We rarely sit outside staring at our own houses. We’re either inside them or away from them. So when we spend time, money, and effort decorating the outside, we’re really doing it for everyone else. For neighbors, passersby, dog walkers, evening strollers.

We decorate to delight our community. To lift spirits. To share joy during the darkest time of year.

The real Clark Griswolds out there, the ones who risk life and limb stringing lights across rooflines, they do it for people they’ll never meet, never greet, who will never say thanks. That’s the epitome of community-mindedness.

And it’s not just private citizens. Local governments that normally balk at design standards suddenly spend taxpayer money transforming downtowns into winter wonderlands, and no one objects. What does that tell us?

Design matters. Aesthetics are important. Beauty is essential.

Imagine the holidays without lights. How bleak would the season feel without that whimsy? We make it special together, and that collective effort is what makes it work.

The holidays remind us what civic life should be. We flock to skating rinks and winter markets. Downtown fills with people reveling in public space. We long for community, and we create it.

The gifts are nice. The traditions are lovely. But the best part is what we do for and with one another.

Here’s what we should remember year-round: People want to gather in beautiful places every season, not just December. Public spaces need to be active, inviting, and well-designed all year long. Community-building feels good every single day.

During the holidays, regardless of faith or tradition, we give back more. We do more for others. We venture outside instead of burrowing in. We bundle up and gather in our common places to celebrate the lives we share.

And I can’t imagine a greater cause than that.

10/01/2025

Oh so true!

After decades of working on Main Street, I’ve learned that not all downtown business owners are created equal. Sure, they are the lifeblood of downtown, but some of them are more of a drain than a boost.

If you work downtown, you have met them, you most likely have even been blamed for their problems.

You know the ones who spend more time complaining than working their business plan. The ones who are furious at City Hall but don’t have a marketing budget. The ones who have terrible business hours and then complain the loudest about parking.

It’s not all business owners, not even close. Most are hard-working, passionate, and committed. But the few who are toxic can be absolutely caustic for a district. They resist change, avoid trainings, demand attention, and yet contribute the least. And in too many towns, they’re given an outsized voice, as if their constant complaints have made them experts. They become bullies, pushing around other merchants and painting well-intentioned partners as the enemy.

But the truth is, bullies only respond to strength. And problem merchants can’t be allowed to take the whole district down with them. As much as we might want to, you’ll never turn a C– business owner into an A. You can’t force someone into customer service, marketing, or a business plan. At some point, a downtown organization has to be willing to tune them out and march forward with what’s best for the district.

That distinction is critical. Doing what’s best for each individual business is not the same as doing what’s best for the district. The goal of revitalization is to increase business overall, increase foot traffic, boost sales, and grow property values. That requires strict standards and accountability. And yes, over time, the unserious businesses get priced out and replaced by those who are committed to success. It’s not easy. It’s not pretty. But it is necessary.

And remember this, a business in a Main Street district already enjoys a leg up. They benefit from a walkable location, public investment, volunteer support, and promotional campaigns. If they can’t make it work, or worse, if they spend their energy poisoning the well for everyone else, maybe they aren’t built for Main Street.

A district’s future depends on strong, committed merchants willing to collaborate. Everyone else is just noise.

07/15/2025

Norfolk is doing something right!

🌾 I just spent a couple of days exploring Norfolk, Nebraska—and wow, this town was full of surprises.

Sure, it’s best known as Johnny Carson’s hometown (and yes, I visited the mural, statue, and even his childhood home), but what really stood out? The creative energy, friendly locals, and all the outdoorsy fun.

🎨 Sculptures + murals everywhere
🚲 Biked a stretch of the Cowboy Trail
🌊 Watched tubers at the whitewater park
🖼️ Got a deep dive into Johnny’s life at the Elkhorn Valley Museum
🍕 Ate my weight in local food (hot honey pizza and an absurdly good burger included)

Also learned it’s pronounced “Nor-Fork,” not a typo. 😅
I put together a full weekend guide—check it out here: https://getlostintheusa.com/norfolk-nebraska/


Visit Nebraska Visit Norfolk Area Nebraska Elkhorn Valley Museum North Fork Whitewater Park

07/15/2025

Lose that street-level draw, and you lose everything that makes a city lovable.

A colleague emailed me the other day with the following question, “Hey, have you ever written about whether people should be allowed to live on the first floor of a downtown building?”

Nope. But the day is young.

Let’s cut to it, no, people shouldn’t live on the first floor downtown. Nor should it be used for storage, a karate studio, or as the new home of Snake Ministry. I get it, cities allow it. Still dumb.

Now, before anyone screams about property rights, let’s remember, if you choose to live among other people, you’re part of the social contract. That means we make rules to protect the whole, not just your personal vibes. If you hate rules, there’s always off-grid Alaska.

Zoning exists for a reason. Nobody wants to live next to a nightclub, slaughterhouse, or dog kennel and early 1900s California agreed. Zoning codes were created to protect quality of life and the courts have backed them up ever since.

So why does it matter what goes on the first floor downtown?

Because the first floor is the face of the city.
Downtown is the central marketplace. Always has been. Since Zeus invented cities, people have gathered in the heart of town to trade, connect, and feel like part of something. That marketplace is where community happens, where you see your neighbors, support local businesses, bump into friends, fall in love, whatever.

When we start putting couches, cardboard boxes, or church pews in storefronts, we kill that energy. You don’t want to walk past drawn blinds and a “Shhh, baby sleeping” sign. You want to see life, shops, cafes, barbers, bookstores, places that invite you in.

Lose that street-level draw, and you lose everything that makes a city lovable.

You kill foot traffic. You drain your local economy. You give national chains room to swoop in and suck up the wealth. You erode community pride, housing values, walkability, self-reliance, local jobs and eventually, tourism.

If you want your city to thrive, then downtown must function like… well, a downtown. The first floor is for commerce. It’s for people. It’s for public life. Want to live downtown? Great, take the upstairs unit. Want to open a business? Fantastic, let’s fill that storefront. But let’s not confuse the living room of our city for a spare bedroom.

And yes, this is the analogy I promised. You wouldn’t store old boxes in your living room. You wouldn’t sleep in the kitchen. You wouldn’t set up a toilet in your dining room. You design your house so it works for your life, spaces have functions.

Same goes for cities. The street-level is where people connect. It’s where we host, gather, bump into each other and build community. When we turn those spaces private, we lose all that. And when we lose the downtown, we lose the heartbeat of the place.

So no, you can’t live on the first floor downtown. You want a walkable, vibrant, lovable place? Then you have to protect the places that create that magic. Use your zoning tools. Stand your ground. Be the adult in the room.

Bedrooms are for sleeping. Downtowns are for commerce.
Case closed, and it’s not even lunchtime.

06/19/2025

Stop asking how to get people to care more and give them more to care about.

At a recent conference, a woman stood up and asked our panel “How do I get people in my town to care?” It’s a question I’ve heard a hundred times and it’s the biggest obstacle in revitalization. Because let’s be honest, it’s hard to fix a place when nobody gives a damn.

The truth is, people didn’t just stop caring. There was no mysterious gene deletion that made this generation apathetic. The people haven’t changed, the places have.

Our grandparents lived in towns that were lovable, walkable, sociable, full of character and meaning. They didn’t want to leave. The place earned their affection. It was worth caring about.

Today? The pretty buildings have been torn down for parking lots. The businesses are corporate chains. The neighborhoods are sprawling subdivisions. The sense of ownership is gone. The soul is missing.

And then we scratch our heads wondering why no one’s emotionally invested anymore.

Here’s the thing, people are responding rationally to the environment we gave them. We’ve stripped away the things that made their town lovable, then act shocked they don’t feel love.

Caring isn’t just some warm fuzzy bonus, it’s core to our health as human beings. The less we care, the sicker we become, mentally, socially, physically. We are biologically wired for connection, pride, and meaning. Without them, we withdraw, isolate, and decay right along with the places we live.

So no, stop trying to convince people to care about a place that hasn’t been cared for. That’s backwards.

If you want people to care, give them something worth caring about.

Start fixing things. Start painting. Start planting. Start cleaning, restoring, building. You don’t need 100% consensus, you need momentum.

The pendulum has swung too far. We’ve replaced bulldozers with endless meetings, and now we’re stuck. Our places are unhealthy because we’re afraid to act without everyone’s blessing. But consensus doesn’t build anything, action does.

Make the town lovable again. Reclaim ownership. Beautify the streets. Welcome local developers back in. Create gathering spaces instead of more roads.

When a place begins to heal, its people do too. Caring isn’t just the result of improvement, it’s the fuel and the reward. And it starts with all of us.

So stop asking how to get people to care more and give them more to care about.

04/07/2025

The clock has been ticking for a while.

Times didn’t start changing. They already changed. If your city still runs with the same old chamber, tourism bureau, and economic development office doing the same old things—it’s time for a reset.

Let’s be honest: those institutions had their moment. They did good work for decades. But things evolve—people, the economy, expectations. And cities need to evolve too. We’re not moving the needle because we’re afraid to say out loud that what used to work just… doesn’t anymore.

This isn’t about tearing things down. It’s about asking: Are we still relevant? Because doing the wrong things more efficiently isn’t progress. Revitalization today isn’t about jobs or visitors—it’s about residents. It’s about emotion, beauty, pride, and belonging. Most legacy institutions haven’t caught up to this shift.

We live in an economy of aesthetics. People decide where to eat, live, shop, and travel based on how places make them feel. A beautiful home sells faster. A stylish café gets more foot traffic. A pretty downtown gets posted on Instagram. This isn’t shallow—it’s human nature.

So why are cities still ignoring this? Why are they laser-focused on cost instead of value? A fancy car and a luxury grocery store still do basic functions—but people pay a premium for the experience. Cities are no different. Residents want places that make them feel good. Proud. Connected. Inspired.

Your job isn’t to lure strangers. It’s to delight the people who already live there. Create places they love walking through. Give them beauty, safety, joy, and a little whimsy. That’s what builds loyalty. That’s what drives momentum.

Here’s a wild idea: start a Chamber of Cute. A Bureau of Enjoyment. An Office of Holy Hell This Town Makes Me Feel Great. Sounds silly? Not really. Because the places people love the most are the ones that deliver those exact feelings.

So take a hard look at your mission. At your budget. At your hours. Are you making people’s lives better? Are you proud of what your town looks like? Are your residents?

If not—change. It’s not too late. But the clock’s been ticking for a while