Auntie Em

I was just in Madison, Wisconsin again for work and heading there again next week.  (Basically, I am home for the weekend.)  Because of storms in the East last night, my flight got in extremely late.  I walked in my door at 3:07am.  After being up almost 21 hours and hanging out in airports for endless hours, I am still exhausted and planning to nap very soon.  I can't, however, get the vision of the sky I saw Wednesday night out of my head.

The storms in the East last night were in the Midwest yesterday.  There were tornado warnings and the hotel was considering moving all its guests to a conference room.  Several of my colleagues and I were at an Indian restaurant a 5-minute walk away from the hotel when all of this was happening.  The hotel shuttle service would not come get us because of the tornado threat.  We paid a guy - a complete stranger with a big Chevy Suburban (filled with lot of "stuff") stopping for takeout - $20 to run 5 of us back to the hotel.  (Because of all the "stuff" he had to make two trips.)  The rain was intense and the main road looked like a river. I am very grateful to this man who told us his name was "Jake the Snake."

When I got back to the hotel I learned a tornado touched now near where I was staying.  Back in my room, I opened my curtains and put on the Weather Channel, which was beeping every 5 minutes because of the tornado threat.  (That is a very disconcerting noise.)  I kept an eye outside to watch for the funnel cloud and had a plan in mind in case I saw one.  During my "watch," I saw the strangest sky I have ever seen. 

It was dark out.  Well, actually, it was supposed to be dark out.  Instead, the sky was the most incredible color of orange I have ever seen.  I don't mean "Ah, isn't that beautiful?" sunset orange.  I mean angry forest fire orange.  I really did wonder if there was a forest fire but knew there were nothing but farms and strips malls around us.  The orange was so bright it made it look like daytime.  I was so stunned I didn't even think of taking a picture of it with my cell phone.  I wish I had.  Instead, this picture is from the Web.  It really doesn't do it justice but provides some idea.  (Note:  This is just a random picture of an orange, tornado sky.  It is not what I saw that night.)

The next day my colleagues were talking about the eerie night sky.  Apparently I wasn't the only one watching  to see if I was going to be in harm's way.  One colleague said he saw green in the sky.  I didn't see that.

Now that I'm home and not threatened by a tornado, I googled "orange sky during tornado."  I didn't persist enough to learn why this happens but I saw dozens of accounts of people seeing this type of sky in areas threatened by severe thunderstorms or tornadic activity.  Like my colleague, many people reported a green-ish hue in the sky.

As I head upstairs to nap, I know I will see that sky in my head as I drift off.  I am also thankful for this life experience that ended well.  I now know what an unusual sky can mean.  I can use this information to protect myself if needed as I travel to the Midwest 3 more times in the next several weeks.

In the Heartland

Flying to Minneapolis from Philadelphia, it's easy to see why the Heartland is called "the flyover middle" of the country. That term is used pejoratively, and I don't understand it.  Looking down at the farms, rivers, lakes, wandering dirt roads and quilt-like pattern from 30,000 feet is calming to me.  It also makes me wonder about the people.  Do they struggle to maintain the family farm?  Do their little children dream of walking down that long dirt road to the "big" (paved) road?  Do families spend free time in the summer playing in all those streams and creeks?  With no cities close by, what do they do for entertainment?  I like to think some of them play the works of art I saw today at the Minneapolis airport.

Minneapolis wasn't my final stop.  I was en route to Madison, Wisconsin for work.  As I was walking to my gate thinking, "This is the first of a series of six trips over the next few months," I saw an amazingly beautiful guitar in a glass case.  I cut through the crowd to admire it.  You would think the first thing to grab my attention was the unusual location of the opening in the guitar.  It wasn't.  It was the wood and its tones; the guitar looked warm and alive.  I don't play the guitar but I really wanted to hold that one.

The showcase was an advertisement for McPherson Guitars.  I had never heard of these guitars but assumed they were made in Minnesota.  Turns out they are made in Sparta, Wisconsin.  This is where, over 30 years ago, the company made a guitar with "a unique Offset Soundhole Technology" that apparently makes a difference in the sound of the music.  In addition, the various "tonal woods" from which to choose for a custom guitar also makes a slight difference in the sound.  These beautiful guitars look like they average between $5,000 - $6,000.

I encourage you to visit the website - with your volume turned on.  The sound of the guitars is so crisp it is almost as though someone is playing right next to you.  These guitars are played by many people, per the web site, including names I recognize like Brad Paisley and Amy Grant.

I know it's a stereotype from a "city person" like me - or maybe it's a romanticized view of the hardworking people whose lives I think I can understand from the plane - but these guitars seem to fit a sensitivity I imagine the "heartlanders" having that we may have lost on the coasts.  The guitars, like the people, are seemingly simple from my vantage point, but I really know they are not.