An open letter to the weather

An open letter to the weather

Dear Kansas weather,

I am sorry, but the time has come for us to have a very serious talk. I can no longer accept the way you've been treating me. One day everything is great, and the next you're an unpredictable mouth of hell which threatens to destroy me and everything I care about. I want to believe, on days like Saturday, that every day could be like that… and then on Sunday you decide that it is almost winter again. Without warning, and in defiance of all expecations.

Now, that said, I also have to admit I take issue with other people who know you and yet freak out a week before a predicted storm. This has been happening recently. People who know you and should know better than to freak out about storms in general, because they LIVE IN KANSAS, hear a prediction a week ahead of time and post all over Facebook "look out!"

Then, nothing happens. Or something happens. Doesn't matter — there's no predicting when you'll turn on us. Today it's 50 degrees and cloudy, but by afternoon it's going to be 90 with a 40% chance of brimstone, just because I'm going to wear a jacket when I go out.

Kansas weather, you're kind of a dick. We have known one another for a long time and I have tried to remain on good terms with you. Truth is, a lot of us walk around on eggshells for fear of pissing you off, but someone has to speak up and say it is NOT NICE to throw houses at people. Or to throw people at houses. And you've done both.

In California, they have nice weather. Their weather treats them with respect. In Florida, their weather is a flat-out bitch sometimes, but her moods are fairly predictable and she's not nearly as likely to just suddenly throw rocks made of ice from the sky at your head and your car.

People from other states notice when our cars are pockmarked with little dents, Kansas weather. They ask "are you OK?" and all we can do is say our car fell down some stairs. It isn't right, it's an abusive relationship, and it has to stop.

I'd like to propose a trial separation, but the truth is we rely on you. Maybe too much. We need your oxygen to breathe, your precipitation to survive, and your humidity for our chapped skin. We need your sunshine for our pale, pasty Midwestern skin.

So what are we going to do? I'd like to propose counseling, but the truth is I suspect you'll just manipulate the situation and start talking about what's wrong with us and what we're doing to MAKE YOU so angry. Yes, perhaps we've been doing some damage to the environment. Yes, we've been fracking, and yes there are an awful lot of greenhouse gases. Yes, Koch Industries is headquartered here. So you might be able to use those facts to justify some of your more recent outbursts, but we both know you've been a real asshole since before this state was even settled. Since before the first humans set foot here, you were probably fucking up dinosaur barbecues.

Were you happier when this was all underwater? Is that what you're upset about? Because we didn't do that. That just happened. We came along after that. You can't hold us responsible for massive geological shifts. Well, you can now, thanks to our fracking wastewater disposal, but before that you couldn't.

I'm not giving up on us, but you really do need to think about what you've done. I know that there were others before me and there will be others after I'm gone, but no one deserves this. You can do better.

Sincerely,

Me.