How our pan-shaped slice of the world molded me as a comedian and a writer

I’ll never forget how terrifying it was to hear a tornado siren for the first time when I moved to Oklahoma City at 10 years old. It’s such a vivid memory. In fact, I used it as the opening scene for one of my novels. In the fictional story, the neighbor boy explains to the cute new girl what the sirens are. Cue the start of an epic, childhood-friends-to-lovers tale. In reality, I remember hearing the first of many, many jokes from a local about how that sound simply means you should grab the nearest beverage and trustiest lawn chair, head out to the front yard and prepare for some God-given entertainment.

People say there must be something in the water here in Oklahoma, due to the long list of celebrities we have. If there is some definable quality marinating in Lake Hefner, where I begrudgingly went biking with my Dad as a middle schooler, I’d say it’s something akin to friendliness, camaraderie and an endearing ability to make fun of ourselves. I mean, look at our TV meteorologists. It takes thick skin and a good sense of humor to accept, even embrace, becoming a meme of oneself, a viral video trend, even a drinking game.

We also aren’t shy about being the buckle, or at least a well-used loop, of the Bible Belt. No one makes fun of church folk like church folk. And staying in regular rotation on a prayer list and having a lifetime supply of disposable foil pans tucked in the corner of your pantry? That’s just good sense.

Anyone from here also gets that we just have a scrappy quality about us. Maybe it’s because none of us have ever had a good hair day a day in our lives, thanks to the wind Hammerstein waxed on about. Maybe it’s because our neighbor, Texas, is just so … large. Maybe it’s because we are smack dab in the middle of flyover country, an oft-forgotten setting when it comes to novels, television and movies. (Until now, I’m looking at you, Rock Paper Cannon.)

Whatever the reason, we have something to prove. After graduating with a bachelor’s from OU, I cut my teeth as a creative working for industry giants like Saxum, Ackerman McQueen and ICG. I’ll never forget when I submitted a graphic design idea and my boss at the time took one look at it and said, “Ask yourself, could you have made this in Microsoft Word?” Ouch. (For the record, he was right. I could have.)

All of these warm, fuzzy, funny factors about our pan-shaped slice of the world definitely molded me as a comedian and a writer.

Now the swoony, kick-your-feet, squeal into your kindle romance that I write? Well, that may have something to do with the water here, as well. Not only did I marry my high school sweetheart — Go PCN Panthers! — but my brother-in-law and sister-in-law are also high school sweethearts and, get this, my husband’s parents were middle school sweethearts. (Go Western Oaks Warriors!) I bet you totally get it because you probably know a handful of couples like us in your own circles.

When my comedy career came to a screeching halt during The Year That Must Not Be Named, the pivot to writing hilarious, heart-warming novels was an easy one. And a total God Thing, as we say around these parts, because through the blessing of adoption, our family of three went to a family of eight in under a year. Yes, from one child to six, you read that correctly. Suddenly, there was no way I could go on tour as a national opener for a bigger comedian who travels 50 weeks out of the year.

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But I could write during naptime and tablet time.

And write, I did.

I guess people love reading about middle America as much as I loved writing about it. In addition to many direct messages from happy readers about snort-laughing and ugly-crying, I get quite a few that say, “you must be from here!” To which I proudly reply, you bet your OKC Thunder Shirt under a State School Hoodie wearing tiny hiney, I am.

In fact, my little family has moved out of Oklahoma twice, but the state just can’t shake us. While we loved living in Los Angeles while I pursued stand-up comedy, there simply was no weather there. 72, sunny and calm all the time? What was I supposed to do with my lawn chair and my gallons of industrial strength hair spray? Those Angelinos … bless their hearts. 

Now we’re tucked away on a red-stained street in Edmond, where I try to write a few thousand words a day before and after wrangling our gaggle of children. When our four middle kids moved to Oklahoma and heard that siren for the first time on Saturday at high noon, they froze in place in the yard. Their dad made a David Payne joke while I assured them everything was fine before the panic could set in. They promptly went back to trying to drink from the hose. We stopped them, of course, because Instagram experts have explained the hose is full of toxins.

But I bet if they chugged straight from the spigot, that water would taste pretty sweet.

Kelsey Humphreys is an author and comedienne who lives in Edmond. Her next book, “Happy Christmas,” will be out Sept. 30 on Amazon.com or kelseyhumphreys.com. She’s also author of “The Heartlander” series of seven novels, based around one big, successful Okie family.

This article originally appeared on Oklahoman: Oklahoma: A pan-shaped slice of the world that molded my career | Opinion