There are a lot of funny things about Kansas, some of which I highlighted earlier. But my absence over the past few weeks warrants a post and I thought why not write more about this lovely place I now call home…er, a place have always called home. Like they say: you don’t realize what you had until it’s gone. Well quite frankly, I don’t fully buy that. Sometimes you realize what you have, then it is gone/leaves/disappears/whatever….but that doesn’t mean you didn’t recognize how fortunate you were to have “it” in the first place.
This has been ever relevant to me lately, especially in transition from spring to summer back here in KC. In California, rain would cripple the city. Even just some dark clouds and sprinkles falling from the sky (not the cupcakes - that would be a treat)…drivers would slam on their brakes and drive 15 mph down the 101, ignoring the fact that cars were actually designed to drive in the rain. No, the sky was not falling, and no, that was not a storm chaser flying by at 55 mph in a Ford Explorer (it was me).
But back in Kansas, I have reconnected with the electric and thunderous lifestyle of summer storms. I’d venture to say that over the past month, the local weathermen have gotten more air time than Andy Azula, The Lakers, and the MacBook Air. And rightfully so…the storms have been crazy! Last week I went over to a friend’s house, and the power was out for over 5 hours. Luckily, this provided ample opportunity to drink beer, play Go Fish (with varying rules) and watch lightning streak across and light up the sky. Oh how I missed Kansas – phenomenal shows.
The one thing that truly astounds (and humbles) me is that after going to bed during a tornado and flash flood warning, the black sky dotted with bolts and flashes of yellow, and thunder that literally shakes the house (all grown up now, I no longer seek shelter with my head under the covers), I wake up the next morning to blue skies and birds chirping – and the occasional downed tree or power line. It’s like I’m Dorothy, having only dreamt of the storm and waking up to peace, beauty and 100% humidity.
Then Dorothy goes out to her car. The car she parked on the lawn the night before, under the shelter of 100 year old cedar trees in her front yard. It’s completely strategic and in a sober state – veering 2-4 feet off the driveway to park the Acura under the long branches of the trees. I’m confident that this maneuver has saved me from hundreds of pings from hail, not to mention thousands of dollars of damage.
Yet in the morning, I see my car parked with maybe 2 wheels staked on the driveway, the front end only inches from “hitting” the trunk of a tree, and without fail I still ask myself: What happened to me last night? I can only imagine what non-Kansans think when they drive by (in my imagination, there are buses of tourists with cameras and plastic visors, pointing and gawking): “Look at that drunk! Well at least the poor fool made it somewhat onto their driveway last night.”
It’s a good thing I have the sanity and support of my neighbors. Oh wait, few people know me back here! After 8 years of absence (and I thought it was a long time since my last post), I’m back like NKOTB.
