Seven Years a Kansan . . .

I will happily argue there is NOTHING more beautiful than the Flint Hills
at dusk. I welcome anyone who wants to nominate another champion.
Seven years ago today (this evening, to be specific, at about 5:30 PM CT) I arrived in Kansas to make it my home. My then-wife and daughter had come ahead and I stayed on the sofa of a dear friend for a few months while I job searched.

I have talked of this, frequently, here on the blog and elsewhere but I love being a Kansan. While Solomon Northrup and I are both New York natives our experiences, despite the in-poor-taste subject line of this post, could not have been more different.

I am truly at home here. I've adjusted. I've calmed down. I've gotten accustomed to just about every aspect of Kansas life and, frankly, most of it suits me very well. MOST of it.

THANK YOU, fellow Kansans, for (eventually) accepting me and for making my life here so full and rewarding. I've seen great friendship, love, and support. I've been welcomed in to homes and communities. I've been assimilated in the best possible way.

That being said, I am going to spend the next several posts talking about the things that I'll never understand and never just "accept" about life in Kansan.

I mean these critiques with love and I hope they are taking as "constructive criticism" to help my home and those who I live among.