Letter of Paul to the Kansans
To the magnificent people of Kansas,
Grace, frivolity, and perhaps a side of BBQ sauce from our Lord and Tailgater, Jesus Christ.
First, let’s take a moment for the awe-inspiring Kansas City Chiefs. Though Missouri flaunts their geographical custody, you, wholesome Kansans, revel with unabashed pride every field goal, touchdown, and – dare I say – every fumbled pass. Is it possible that your good-natured cheers could propel any team to victory (or at least mitigate the disappointment of defeat)?
Ah, the tales of your boundless plains where dogs are rumored to flee for days on end within the sight of their pondering owners. It must be noted that no matter how far that dog runs, your love for it never wanes, much like your unwavering dedication to wheat, wind, and culinary wonders.
Speaking of culinary wonders, your steaks are of such magnificent proportions that one might ponder: “Have I stumbled upon a bovine Wonderland where reality is graciously marbled with fantasy?” Yet, in this wondrous carnivorous realm, one might find not only flavor but also the subtle reminder that amidst the vast, seeming monotony of the plains, something hearty and soulful lingers.
Now let us journey into the whimsy of the Wizard of Oz, where Kansas is not merely a backdrop but a symbol of home, heart, and sepia-toned simplicity. And oh, how that iconic line resonates: “We’re not in Kansas anymore.” But perhaps, in life’s absurd and chaotic twisters, we all, at times, wish we were back amidst your subtle, unassuming splendor.
Oh, humble Jayhawks of the hardwood court, how your flights of basketball mastery render arenas both silent and eruptive. Might your wings of victory forever soar, causing rivals to gaze upward in equal parts admiration and envy, while the echoes of “Rock Chalk” reverberate into the infinity of sports history.
Behold the largest ball of twine in Cawker City, a spherical wonderment that prompts us to marvel and question in equal measure. Is it a commentary on our collective, entwined destinies? Or perhaps an homage to the quiet yet unrelenting tenacity of Kansans? Or maybe, just maybe, it’s a really big ball of twine that is laughably and endearingly human.
And amongst you, cloaked in the disguise of everyday normality, stands the legendary Superman. Yes, the Man of Steel himself, from the unassuming hamlet of Smallville (Kansas, not Krypton, mind you). Perhaps this is the most enlightening proof that within the perceived blandness of the mundane, heroes are forged.
Sweet Kansans, your niceness is legendary, almost to the point where outsiders whisper of covert, neighborly conspiracies. “Can they truly be THAT pleasant?” they ponder. Your affability, dear friends, often bewilders the hearts of cynics and compels even the hardest of hearts to soften, if only for a moment, under the warm, expansive Kansas sky.
To conclude, let not your seemingly tranquil demeanor and landscape be mistaken for dullness. Instead, may your subtly surprising wonders, from colossal twine balls to superhero origins, continue to gently astonish and bemuse. No, Kansas, you are not simply a ‘fly-over’ state, but a delightful enigma wrapped in wheat, and garnished with a sunflower.
May your days be merry, your twisters be fictitious, and your kindness perpetually perplexing.
