Midwest Musings, 2018
Thunderstorms here in the Heart of the American Heartland — Ames, Iowa — are not for the faint-of-heart. Though we’ve been here only a bit more than a week, we’ve already endured one of those “fasten your seat belts” weather-makers. This one blew in with quite a vengeance last Wednesday afternoon around 5. The sky darkened so much and so quickly, we had to turn on our living-room lights. And then all heck broke loose.
Winds up to 71 mph roared into Our Town. That’s strong enough to blow tree limbs down, and occasionally the tree itself. And that’s exactly what happened all over Ames. Lightning flashed and thunder banged, and the rain came down so heavily that the Grand Avenue underpass near downtown flooded. Of course, there’s always one driver who foolishly tries to bull his vehicle through the rain, and, of course, he or she always gets stuck in the underpass when the vehicle dies. Yes, that happened.
The rain came so fast so furious that it flooded our condo complex’s big guest parking area. It came so fast and furious that I could not go from our front door to our garage to reach our car without getting absolutely drowned — so I called the buddy I was going to have dinner with to tell him I’d be late. As it turned out, he was waiting the storm out inside his car in a parking lot — too afraid to try to drive in the blinding downpour.
During this amazing thunder-boomer, KCCI-TV — the top-rated and best newscast for 60 years or so around these parts — interrupted the CBS Evening News with local weather bulletins, and frankly, it was comforting, indeed, to see the station’s Kurtis Gertz for those few minutes in place of Jeff Glor, the CBS anchor.
The whole unpleasantness lasted about 75 minutes. Afterward, I waded my way through our flooded parking area to our garage (which was high and dry), and drove to a nearby eatery, where my dinner partner Tom and I exchanged brief comments about the storm. There was no need to belabor the stories — as we would have if this had taken place in California — because storms like this are quite common around here. They are, in fact, needed, because Iowa is a farm state, and farmers need thunderstorms to grow their corn and soybean crops. And as an added benefit, such storms keep the lawns and trees in Ames and surrounding areas lush and green all summer — no hose-watering needed, thank you very much.
And Ames is lush — oh, so lush — after a spring full of rain. Our little place here is in the historic Old Town District just north of downtown. It’s the neighborhood where Ames’ founders and early movers and shakers built and lived. So the homes around here are old — some going back to the 1870’s. And the neighborhoods are chock-full of old and beautiful maples and sycamores and ash trees that canopy the streets and shade their Queen Anne and American Foursquare and Colonial Revival homes. And these neighborhoods also shelter rabbits and squirrels. They are plentiful, and while I attempt to reassure them that I mean them no harm, they scamper away when I get within a few feet. The squirrels have a particular propensity to climb the nearest tree trunk, always putting the trunk between themselves and me. It’s a great defensive plan — but how and when did they learn that?
Yes, all this rain keeps the air clean and the trees green — but occasionally, of course, it causes annoyances. We attended the year’s first municipal band concert at Bandshell Park on Thursday night. We went with our friends Steve and Beth. The park is only three blocks away, so we all walked, carrying our lawn chairs as we went. The sky was overcast, and everything would have been fine if it had remained simply that. But halfway through the concert, it started sprinkling. The band carried on, but the rain increased . Even though we’d brought umbrellas, they weren’t enough, so we pulled the plug on the concert — as did numerous others in the big crowd — before it ended. But there will be other Thursday night concerts this summer, and we plan to attend many of them. By the way, one of the delightful things about Iowa is that municipal bands are common in smaller communities because of a 1921 law that authorized those communities to levy a tax to support such musical groups. The Ames band has 50 members. Its concerts are broadcast live by KASI Radio on Thursday nights — a throwback to early radio days when live musical performances were common on the airwaves.
There are many other delightful things about living in Ames, of course. Because this is a college town — the home of Iowa State University — the people who live here tend to be highly educated. That leads to smart, high-level discussions of public issues at such venues as the city council or school board meetings. In particular, the council has been dealing, for months now, with the sticky issue of how to regulate rental properties around the university. Residents who have lived for years in nearby neighborhoods have complained about the increasing number of rental homes near them. In addition, the council is involved in planning a complete make-over of part of one of the city’s most important streets — Lincoln Way, which runs east-west through the heart of Ames. Both issues are incredibly complex, and discussions have been on-going at the council for months. Both the council and those members of the public who have spoken at the meetings deserve praise for the quality of their presentations.
Another thing about living in a “smart” community — and it may seem minor — involves KASI, the city’s news-talk radio station. It does not engage in local ‘blowtorch” commentary — because such mindless drivel would not “work” here. Instead — Mel Crippin — the long-time host of the station’s morning show — and Trent Rice — who hosts an afternoon talk show and also does news on Mel’s show — bring a moderate, “let’s discuss both sides” attitude to everything they do on-air. Yes, it’s refreshing.
Two other quick notes about life in the Midwest: Gas prices here are lower — much lower — than the ones we left in California. Regular unleaded here goes for $2.79 a gallon. We noticed prices going down the minute we left California, and they kept declining while we reached Ames. And there’s one more “must mention”: fireflies. Yes, June is the month those little creatures start lighting themselves up during early evenings around these parts. They are delightful, but, alas, they’re gone by July. The “experts” can tell us why they shine, but I don’t care. All I know is — they are wonderful “companions” on these nights when I walk through Old Town — another in a long list of reasons I’m glad we’re here for the summer.