No Place Like It
December 21st, 2006 by 
Bradley Denton
I grew up in Kansas, and the Holiday Season prompts both childhood memories and a sense of devotion to my native soil. So I’d like to write a few words in defense and praise of the Sunflower State.
It seems that most non-Kansans I meet have a negative attitude toward visiting the state of my birth. More often than not, they seem to view Kansas as a long, grueling stretch to suffer through while on the way to somewhere else. Upon investigation, though, I usually find that this attitude is based not upon actual experience, but upon two false assumptions.
The first of these assumptions is that all of Kansas is as flat and dull as a stale pancake. This is only true once you get west of Salina (and even then, there are worthwhile attractions such as The World’s Largest Prairie Dog). The eastern third of the state, however, boasts diverse and beautiful topography, including pastures, meadows, hills, trees, meadows, and pastures. Also, thanks to the Army Corps of Engineers and the many large holes they have dug, Kansas is also home to the best crappie fishing on the planet.
The second assumption is that if you drive through Kansas, you will be attacked by flying monkeys. This canard is the fault of both L. Frank Baum and, especially, Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer.
First of all, Mr. Baum unfairly based his descriptions of my home state on his experiences in South Dakota, an entirely different habitat. But even Mr. Baum never claimed that the evil flying monkeys depicted in his Oz tales could really be found in Kansas. Rather, they could only be found in Oz (which, admittedly, could be reached via Kansas).
MGM, on the other hand, was thoroughly irresponsible. Their 1939 film version of The Wizard of Oz depicts its flying monkeys as being the size of chimpanzees, existing in large numbers, wearing militaristic uniforms, and possessing the ability to carry a teenage girl through the air. All of these fearsome traits are unrealistic and false, and I’m convinced that such misconceptions are responsible for the loss of millions of potential Kansas tourism dollars.
The truth is that the typical Flint Hills flying monkey is no larger than a cocker spaniel, and the two-to-three-thousand-member troops, or flerds, that once roamed the blue Kansas sky have dwindled every year since 1964, when the last of the great Cottonwood Falls banana plantations brought in its final harvest. In 1998, zoologists at Kansas State University in Manhattan estimated that no more than twenty flerds still existed between Wichita and Topeka, with each flerd comprising only 400 to 600 individuals. Those numbers are almost certainly smaller now.
Furthermore, there is no record of Flint Hills flying monkeys, either as individuals or groups, ever carrying off a human being larger than an infant. In fact, there are only three documented cases of even that happening — and in two of those cases, the infants were dropped before the monkeys could reach their usual cruising altitude of 300 feet. They really aren’t capable of carrying more than four or five pounds over any distance.
As for the uniforms: MGM was just being silly. Flying monkeys are wild animals, and not even a witch could tame them. To be sure, various foolhardy entrepreneurs have attempted to make a buck by capturing, training, and dressing Flint Hills flying monkeys over the years . . . but such efforts have always been unsuccessful at best, and disastrous at worst. For evidence, just visit Emporia or Hutchinson and count the number of nursing-home residents with nicknames like “Patch,” “Stumpy,” and “Billy No-Thumbs.”
When left to their natural habitat, flying monkeys rarely interact with humans. They avoid towns, cities, and four-lane highways. If you cross the state via the Kansas Turnpike or I-70, you’ll never see one. So if fear of flying monkeys has kept you from experiencing “The Land of Ah’s,” fear no more. All you have to do is stick to the interstates.
But the next time I visit, I’ll be taking two-lane roads. Here’s why:
It must have been 1966, when I was eight and my brothers were six and three. My mom and dad had roused us before dawn to make the hundred-and-fifty-mile drive to Auburn to visit our grandmother . . .and as we were driving north on Kansas State Highway 177 near Matfield Green, I saw the most magnificent thing I had ever seen or am ever likely to see.
The highway ahead of us went through a huge hill that had been cut in two to accommodate the road. And on either side, at the top of each limestone cliff, the flying monkeys were roosting. There must have been a thousand of them, all perched over the artificial canyon, their furry heads silhouetted against the brightening sky.
As we approached, they awoke, and the entire flerd — hundreds of monkeys — stretched their wings. The first rays of the new rising sun shone ruby-red through the membranes, and the dark veins stood out as if they were mystical runes.
“Wow,” we boys all exclaimed.
“Oh, my,” my mother said, her eyes wide.
My father, overwhelmed, couldn’t even speak.
If there truly is anything “magical” about Flint Hills flying monkeys, we experienced it at that moment.
Of course, as soon as our car entered the canyon, they began flinging poop at us. And before we reached the end, a few dozen had tried to launch themselves through our windshield.
Still, as with all childhood memories, I prefer to focus on the sunlight-through-wings part, and not dwell on the flung poop.
But I digress. The point is, Kansas is swell. You should go. And if you take the less-traveled highways through the Flint Hills, just carry an extra set of wiper blades, keep your windows rolled up, and have a tennis racket handy. You’ll be fine.
Happy or Merry [Winter Solstice Holiday of your choice], everyone! [Natural or Spiritual Force of your choice] bless us –
Flying monkeys and all.
Posted in Brad, Daily Life, History, Science | 
December 21st, 2006 at 10:05 am
Those Kansas flying monkeys are not even 1/2 the size of the Native Texas Winged Horned-back monkey. As you know, Mr. Denton, everything is bigger in Texas.
Oh, and our flying monkey poop is bigger, too. As can be attested by anyone here in Austin who has watched them fly out from under the Colorado River bridge at sunset.
December 21st, 2006 at 11:23 am
Yes, I remember when I lived in Texas we had a real problem with troops of the airborne simians ganging together to steal coin operated rocking horsies from the front of HEB supermarkets.
Was this practical? Hell, no. For even when they were able to sever the power cords, they rarely got farther than the parking lot (as many a surprised SUV owner can attest.)
Still, it was common enough that the Texas Auto Insurance Industry lobbied for and got the infamous Acts of God and Flying Monkeys exemption clause.
Damn them.
December 21st, 2006 at 11:35 am
They may be great in Kansas, Brad, but they are wreaking havoc here in New Mexico. They are illegal to own as pets here, but they are smuggled across state lines because people think they want a flying monkey as a pet. But after a while, as you would expect, the screeching, imprecations, and feces flinging get to the owners, who turn them loose on the mesa. These invaders have decimated our native jackalope herds. Populations are dwindling, not only of the jackalopes, but the Rocky Mountain banded griffins, which are the jackalope’s natural predator.
December 21st, 2006 at 12:18 pm
When I was a child, we’d visit my grand-parents in deep East Texas, outside of Hemphill, and I always enjoyed watching the troops of Piney Woods Flying Monkeys leaping from tree to tree.
My grandfather considered them to be mostly pests, of course, and put up flying monkey scarecrows around the perimeter of his cornfield. With predictable results…
I always wanted to have one as a pet, but even the little ones were too skittish to let you approach too closely.
Then the dam got built and there was a lot of logging, so that their natural habitat shrank quite a bit.
Last time I was up there, to harvest from the Money Tree that my family maintains on Harper land, I don’t think that I actually saw ANY Flying Monkeys.
This is just another reason to take care of the environment.
December 21st, 2006 at 12:31 pm
Rare Madagascar Variety — seriously endangered!
December 21st, 2006 at 2:14 pm
It’s a little known fact that New York City (land of my birth) is home to at least two breeds of flying monkey: the Novus Eboracum Penniger Monachus, or New York Feathered Monkey, frequently mistaken for the common pigeon (and whose poop is, unfortunately, both commonplace and legend); and the far larger and more ferocious Monachus Volatilis Hobo, or Winged Bum Monkey. This is something of a misnomer, as the wings do not extend from the rear-end of the monkey, but from its shoulders. Because of their size (and their penchant for nesting in cardboard boxes) Monachus Volatilis Hobo are often confused with homeless persons. They are nocturnal, and primarily feed on drunken merry-makers in the small hours of the night. Their excreta is not to be mentioned in polite company.
A few years ago, under the aegis of Mayor Rudy Giuliani, an attempt to exterminate the flying monkey population was mounted, but very little came of it, as the New York flying monkeys are not only wily, but politically savvy, and mounted their own candidate for City Council, who ran on the Species Rights platform.
And Brad? I would never believe such unpleasant things of Kansas–those accusations are more reasonably hurled at Nebraska, a state so dull it doesn’t even have flying monkeys.
December 21st, 2006 at 2:17 pm
We haven’t seen a single flying monkey since we got to Austin, which is disappointing because they aren’t East of the Mississippi.
But I wish someone had warned me about the giant gila monsters. It’s especially bad when one of them shows up at rush hour. It can take Bob an hour to get home.
December 21st, 2006 at 2:40 pm
The Giant Gila Monsters are bad enough, true.
But just hope that you don’t run into any of Texas’ few remaining Giant Horny Toads.
They were hunted almost to extinction during the 50’s by outraged family members.
I think the Houston Zoo has a couple of them, but, of course, they can’t be put on public display.
December 21st, 2006 at 4:27 pm
Our biggest problem here are the Guatamalan Biker Ants.
December 22nd, 2006 at 1:07 pm
Poop flinging, imprecations, poor language skills, mass behavior ranging from silly to suicidal…
Are you sure these are flying monkeys and not fundamentalists?
December 22nd, 2006 at 2:05 pm
Silly DT, Fundamentalists don’t have wings.
December 22nd, 2006 at 4:24 pm
Interesting that everyone fell for Brad’s misdirection about flying monkeys (and ok, I have had one sighting of the Texas variety, the rare Michaeline Nesmithus Monachus,when visiting the Texas Book Festival). However,I’d like to point out that Brad never countered the long held observation that Kansas is entirely in black and white. All known “color” photographs have been shown to be hand tinted or photoshopped.
And then there’s the well-known Kansas intolerance for alternative religions shown by their witch killings. Has ANYONE found any evidence of a Baptist or Catholic having a house dropped on them by a Kansan?
December 22nd, 2006 at 6:24 pm
You guys all quit teasing Brad! Kansas is..uh, well, it has a very distictive look on the map of the United States. Wait, no, that’s South Dakota. Never mind.
December 23rd, 2006 at 11:34 am
I’m jealous. Here in Illinois all we have are Governorus Crookedus, which are nearly indistinguishable from human beings unless they smell a bribe. Then they become ravenous beasts. While they are rare, alas, they are by no means endangered.
December 23rd, 2006 at 11:59 pm
I lived in Kansas for most of my youth and never once saw a flying monkey. Maybe once, but I’m fairly certain it was an airborne fundamentalist who had launched himself from a diving board, in a “thinking in tounges” fit. As any Kansan knows, there is no water in Kansas so the flying fundamentalist had an unhappy landing.
December 26th, 2006 at 8:53 pm
We got enough problems with owl poop, I am glad that flying monkeys don’t like living in cities.
Happy holidays all.
December 27th, 2006 at 3:24 pm
Ah, I do remember the flying monkeys from my youth in Wichita — that was why it was called ‘The Air Capital,’ after all. In fact, didn’t one of them run for governor in the 1970s? But I thought that they had all since been outsourced to China.
January 5th, 2007 at 3:28 pm
[…] Still, as with all childhood memories, I prefer to focus on the sunlight-through-wings part, and not dwell on the flung poop. eat our brains » Blog Archive » No Place Like It […]
June 7th, 2007 at 11:25 pm
[…] We regret to report that Mr. Denton is unable to contribute his usual Thursday bit of grey matter due to a severe case of being Elsewhere (specifically, the Land of the Flying Monkeys). […]
July 10th, 2007 at 10:08 am
Here in Michigan you can’t find very many flying monkeys. But since most of my property it woods, I have seen a few. And as Brad says, their wings look amazing when the sun shines through them. I also go up to Traverse City every summer, but have only once seen the hard to spot sea monster. It comes from Lake Michigan disguised as a human and travels to the cherry festival, where it buys lots and lots of cherries, as they are its favorite food. It comes only for the opening day of the festival (the Saturday after the Fourth of July), and can only be spotted when it is swimming in the water, as it is fat, but swims gracefully and very fast.