Typical Broad

Yesterday I received a Facebook message out of the blue from my college friend, Jared Fiske.  He said he was going through some old files on his computer and found something I wrote back in 2004. How random is that?!

Jared and I went to UMass Amherst together and became friends during our freshman college writing class. Jared was one of the few writers in that class I enjoyed reading (it was a required course for freshman and most of our classmates were only there because they had to be there).

Jared was and is a very talented musician. I remember being blown away when he first shared his lyrics and music with me. I think we ended up in few other English classes together and continued to share our writing with each other during our college years.

I was so glad to learn that Jared continues to make music and perform. Check out his website. His recent EP, The Twisted Man, is AMAZING. As I listen to it, I am reminded of what a great writer he is.

Throwback to Jared in 2003 – with his guitar (as always).

Here is the piece Jared found. It’s about the first time I visited Kansas.

Somewhere Over the Rainbow*

Undated, circa 2004

Before leaving school for the summer, I was asked by several friends if I had any exciting vacation plans. When I told them I was going to Kansas, I received strange looks and questions like, “What the heck is in Kansas?” Well… there are a lot of things: cows, wheat, telephone poles, tornadoes, college football rivalries, and Sonic Drive-Ins. But seriously, I went to visit my boyfriend Greg’s family. Before this, I had never been farther west than New York.

Before touching down in Wichita, I peered out the airplane window and saw miles and miles of green and gold squares divided by perfect straight lines. These were roads, which were mostly empty except for the occasional tiny pick-up truck. Then the landscape blended into an impressive, bustling city with buildings and sporadic traffic. I remembered Greg being amazed at the traffic reports on the news in Massachusetts, because Kansas, for the most part, doesn’t have traffic reports.

The Mid-Continental Airport in Wichita is tiny compared to Boston’s Logan.  There is one terminal and 12 gates. It’s not a hassle to park and get in and out of there. When my Dad dropped me off at Logan, we were dodging buses and taxi cabs in the pickup/drop-off area.  In one swift movement, he hauled my suitcase out of the trunk and gave me a quick hug goodbye. I entered Terminal A to Boston’s crazy off-beat soundtrack– beeping and yelling away. It was nice to feel my heartbeat slow down when I got off the plane in Wichita.

I met Greg’s family and we drove out of the city. I was surprised how much Wichita reminded me of the suburbs of Boston. Somehow I got the idea that it would be a farm town (perhaps from the White Stripes song “Seven Nation Army,” where Jack White sings about going to Wichita and working the land). Businesses and billboards decorated each side of the highway.  One billboard in particular told me to “Fear Not… God Fights Your Battles,” citing a verse in Exodus. I snapped a picture.  It was something I would never see in my home state.

Soon I saw all the cows and farmland that everybody talks about. The sun was shining on the near-harvest wheat**, and it was absolutely stunning to see all these fields of gold. How Elysian, I thought. The simplicity and peace of this place was spiritually moving; proof that Kansas, being on a much higher sea level, must be closer to Heaven.  Even at night the stars are more apparent.  The Kansas state motto is “Ad Astra Per Aspera,” which means “To the stars through difficulty.” At first I wondered what was so difficult about it, but I think the point of the phrase is to always aspire to a higher place, even if the journey already feels quite finished. It makes sense when I recall that this is Amelia Earhart’s home state.

Driving across the great plain, one can see for miles in the distance. I ask Greg’s family about how many tornadoes they’ve seen, and only Greg’s mother has seen one. The natives don’t worry about tornadoes as much as one would think, and now I can understand why. First, the regular storms make themselves very obvious with dark, fast-moving clouds. Second, the view of the landscape goes on for miles, so if a tornado forms and it’s far enough away, you can sit and watch it on the porch until the sirens go off, telling you to take shelter in your basement.*** The warning system is also very good, compared to less predictable disasters such as earthquakes.

We were handed the above card at the Warren Theater in Wichita when we bought movie tickets as the area was under a tornado watch.

One night Greg and I went to the Warren Theater in Wichita and had a good half hour before the movie started. A storm was brewing outside, so we sat in the parking lot after purchasing our tickets and watched it. There was a tornado watch, but nobody starts to worry until the weather service puts out an actual warning, which means that a tornado has been sited somewhere nearby. The sky was a dark green, and the clouds were moving in opposite directions. I was both terrified and fascinated. I wanted to run into the theater, but I was in such awe that I couldn’t bring myself to leave the car. The radio reassured us that there wasn’t enough rotation in the clouds for a tornado anyway. Lightning filled the sky cloud-to-cloud and cloud-to-ground, and thunder crashed and roared. I’ve seen thunderstorms before, but nothing like this. The gods were certainly pissed off about something. The warning came out that a few tornadoes had touched down in Salina (about an hour and a half drive north of Wichita), and we ran into the theater as a near-biblical flood rained down upon us.

The sun was setting as we approached the small town of Cunningham, population five-hundred and twenty-something. Greg’s family pointed to both ends of the town, which were made visible by the lights coming on in various homes. It looked about a square mile. In the center of town were grain elevators… otherwise known as “Kansas skyscrapers.” This is where the grain is stored throughout the year after it is harvested. Each town has them, and they are usually located right next to the train tracks where rail cars can load up directly and pay by weight.

I took one look at this and thought, “I’ve a feeling I’m not in Boston anymore.”*

*After I moved to Kansas in 2006, I learned that people in Kansas HATE Wizard of Oz references. I became one of those people.
**Wheat is the dominant crop grown in Kansas, not corn. There are some corn fields, but they probably make up less than 20% of the fields you see in Kansas.
***This does not apply to most night and rain-wrapped tornadoes.