June 8, 1989

Sunday evening, during a brief interlude in the deluge, the dog took us for a walk. Streams of runoff bubbled in the gutters, mirror puddles reflecting the neighborhood, full oaks and maples shook themselves int he north breeze, sending off a cool spray. In the distance, thunder complained about its workload.
After months of dry, of parched winds sweeping topsoil from exposed fields, of listening to arid predictions the Midwest was on the verge of becoming the Great American Desert again, it was a delightfully soggy day. But, being Midwesterners, we couldn't express our damp joy by giving in to our urges and splashing like Gene Kelley in the brimming gutters. (Garrison Keillor said, "here in the Midwest, having a good time is considered okay provided you don't let it happen again.")
That Kansans have long been cultivating their stodginess is confirmed by a Dr. Karl Menninger observation printed in 1939. Whether his conclusion was the result of witnessing a couple and their dog repressing their desire to gambol in the rain, or whether it resulted from a friend's failure to chuckle at one of the good doctor's jokes is lost to history, but sixty years ago Dr. Menninger wrote, "Kansans have gone off the deep end with desperate seriousness, and in so doing earned for themselves the name of being humorless, puritanical people, incapable of joy and grudging in their attitudes toward those happier than themselves. This is not a pretty reputation and naturally one shrinks from accepting this description of oneself and his friends and neighbors. Oddly enough, however, we do accept it almost unanimously and meekly endure the opprobrium and ridicule of other states. This I believe to be due to a humility of self-distrust so great as to be crippling to our energies."
"Humorless"? "Incapable of joy"? "Begrudging the happy"?
Well, we may be a trifle listless, but that's because we labor so valiantly. We may be somewhat lackluster, but that's because we recognize the shallowness of luster. We may be prosaic, but that's because we recognize the limitations of poetry.
But to suggest we have no sense of humor and are unable to muster a sense of joy makes us...well, sad. Certainly such sweeping claims are nothing to laugh about. There's nothing in our genes which prevents us from having a sunny disposition. Nothing in our makeup which precludes chortling, giggling, or even loosing a horsey guffaw. We're having as good a time as folks in any other region of the country, we have simply refined the ability to have a good time without making a show of it.
On the west coast or the east coast you can witness people having a grand time everywhere you go. At the beach they laugh loudly. In bars they hug and slap each other on the back. At parties they carelessly cavort as if they'd never had so much fun.
We Midwesterners know an insincere display when we see one. These people are not having a good time, they're not humorous, they're not happy. They're just good actors, playing a role, pretending they're bit players in a beer commercial.
We Midwesterners know that when you're truly happy nobody knows it but you; that the best way to express bliss is to act as though it's just another day at the office. In so doing, we don't make those around us who are not having a great day feel worse. We Midwesterners are considerate with our joy.
So walking back to the house, filled with the glory of the day, we held our dog, and our emotions on a leash, not wanting the neighbors to feel bad - because we felt so good. ~T.Stucky