There’s a bar here in Kansas City called PBR Big Sky. It’s a chain and the kind of place where female bartenders wear chaps you could never quite squeeze your own thighs into, and girls in denim skirts – who probably shouldn’t be straddling anything in public – always seem to end up on the mechanical bull, while Copperhead Road plays overhead.
While the phrase “Big Sky” generally refers to Montana, the term applies to Kansas as well. The sky is big and blue, and in some places, you can make out thunderstorms miles away, despite the fact it’s perfectly clear where you’re standing.
It’s gorgeous, in a simple way, and one of the reasons I love calling Kansas home.