The Beaches, The Earthquakes, The Tornadoes-The Whole She-bang

Dear Readers:
Have you heard that Oklahoma keeps having earthquakes and tornadoes-simultaneously? Have you wondered, as I have, why this land-locked state is receiving not only the backhand from the nature, but the forward slap as well?
I think I may have the answer: I think it’s my fault.

While on tour, we stopped off in San Diego. One gray morning, Biceps and I walked to the beach with our hotel cup of coffee and enjoyed the ocean coming to shore.

 

Contemplation set in as to why Biceps and I chose to put down our roots in Okie-land, instead of a place such as this.

 

The ocean drew me to her and soon the cuffs of my pants were wet. Oklahoma and its dirty lakes came to mind. I tried to reassure myself with the choice of our hometown.

 

I made the comment that at least in Oklahoma we only have to worry about tornadoes while these San Diego-ans have to worry about hurricanes and earthquakes.
So, I think someone is setting the record straight for me that we are not exempt from another form of natural disasters.

 

Therefore, I believe it is my fault. I am so sorry to anyone that might be reading this that lives in Oklahoma. I am so sorry, Oklahoma as a state.
Love-Rebekah

Stonehenge-where the demons dwell…

In case you aren’t familiar with this quote-it’s from one of my favorite movies, “Spinal Tap“. If you’ve never seen this movie, you probably should. Especially if you happen to love metal/hair bands from the 80’s, have ever been on tour with a band, or in a band, or perhaps married someone in a band.

I will warn you, it’s one of those “watch a couple of times to get it”, though.
The first time I saw it was way before I met Biceps, before I entered the world of bands, back-stages and men in tight pants. I watched it with my roommate at the time, freshly graduated from college, sitting on our khaki colored sofa in footie pajamas.
This is not how you watch Spinal Tap.
You must watch it after attending a ridiculous hair/metal show or after sweating all night while your son/daughter/friend’s band plays at the local pub. Or after being on tour with stinky guys for several years, sharing a hotel room with them and scrounging for dinner in the green room.
Then, it is funny.

Now on to the real reason of this post-Stonehenge is not as far away as you think.

 

You don’t have to fly across the big pond to check it out. You can do it right here in Rolla, Missouri.

 

This is an exact replica of the original. Of course, it’s not the full-sized Stonehenge, but you get the idea.

 

With the sun’s help, you can tell exactly the day, month and the moon’s positioning just by seeing where the sun ray lands on this rock.
Pretty cool.

&nbps;

What else is cool is when certain people (my father) insist on having their picture taken with said Stonehenge. And since he’s paying for gas back to St. Louis, I will oblige him. He’s pretty cool, too.

Grant’s Farm in St. Louis, Mo

Every once in awhile it works out that while we are on tour, we get to stop by to see friends and family. These moments of normalcy bring a balance to the late nights where weird people are left meandering outside the club after a show hoping to catch a glimpse of what I lovingly refer to as the dirty, stinky boys (or girls in some cases).

On this particular day of normalcy, I was able to visit my beautiful, fun and awesome mother. She took me to Grant’s farm-just a short drive away from their home in a suburb of St. Louis.

 

If you aren’t familiar with Grant’s farm, then let me tell you a little bit about it. It’s weird-but in a good way. Named after our President Grant who farmed the land way back when, it eventually was bought up by the Busch family (yeah, that Busch family who makes the beer). Grant’s farm is FREE to get into, it’s right in the middle of sprawling St. Louis suburbia, and espouses a crazy amount of weird animals, live shows, food, train rides and…yes, free beer.

 

We walked around the main portion of the farm, before hopping on the train. This guy received a lot of attention from these here mid-westerners. I couldn’t help but think about the time my Grandma asked Biceps, “One hump, or two?”, about the camel he had ridden at a state fair.

 

This guy was giving me the shy treatment. But later, he came out of his shell.

 

I don’t even know what to say to this. I should have been wearing Bicep’s lederhosen and traversing the side of a steep mountain while herding him back to the stable, followed by several ducks.

 

This proud little bird busily protected his female companions, squawking anytime we got too close.

 

I cannot resist a baby version of any animal. This cute little buffalo plodding along next to his momma just nearly broke my heart. I know he could still kill me if he so desired, but I instead pictured him curled up at my feet in front of the fireplace, with the two kitties asleep on his back.

 

After all of this walking around and riding on of trains, I needed some refreshment. We headed over to a beer garden which felt like I was back in Dusseldorf or Munich or Heidelberg…to taste the Busch beer and rest our own little hooves. In the back of my mind, I knew somewhere a stinky bus awaited me, but I was in heaven-sitting next to my mom, with a cold glass of free beer and the sites and sounds of my homeland, Germany. You can’t beat that.

Tornado Alley-Devastation in Joplin, Missouri

I grew up in Kansas, presently am living in Oklahoma and have no plans to leave the Midwest. Therefore, I am accustomed to and plan on spending many a night huddling in the closet with my loved ones, a radio at my side, while listening to the storm brewing. And praying.
This event has become so routine, that I often don’t think the tornado will actually touch down. Even though we are smack dab in the middle of “Tornado Alley”, I have yet to be affected by one.

Until now. The tornado that hit Joplin in May was the seventh deadliest tornado in all of U.S. history. I really couldn’t look at the pictures until now.

A short drive from Tulsa (my hometown) is Joplin, Missouri. When the tornadoes hit Joplin, the world as I knew it was rocked.

I waited several weeks before driving to the scene myself. I wasn’t sure my tender little heart could handle it.
This is not the scene of a construction site-this is the total annihilation of several businesses.

This used to be a neighborhood I would often cruise past on my way to watch baby brother play a basketball tournament.

What kind of unnatural force could curl a steel yield sign?

Debris was piled everywhere, next to the remnants of what was once a house. Thousands of people were instantly homeless, a 162 dead.

The outpouring of food, shelter, financial gifts and elbow grease from surrounding communities, churches and non-profits was tremendous for the people of Joplin. I was impressed with the quick response from so many and the practicality of what people were willing to offer and do. Some just came to clean up, others to offer counsel, others opened their homes to those displaced-even as far reaching as Tulsa.
It’s often the disasters that bring us together, reminding us of the preciousness of life, and of the finality of death.
I suppose the weighty-ness of Joplin was the reason I couldn’t talk about all of this until now. I usually reserve my blog for butterflies and rainbows.
But hey, life throws some crap your way from time to time. Let’s be real. ..