Kansas City -- A great town. Bring floss.

About five years ago, we had some free tickets on Southwest Airlines that were about to expire so we decided to take a "Why the Heck Not?" trip to one of their towns that we'd never been to before. We had such a blast in Louisville, Kentucky! So much fun, in fact, that we took a similarly entertaining trip a few years later to Albuquerque (and Santa Fe).

We now have a list of about six LUV cities to visit that people rarely think of as vacation spots. Indeed, as we mentioned to friends our most recent destination, an increasingly predictable response was, "Why?" Even the nice young woman at the hotel desk...and the greeting card artist at Hallmark Headquarters...wondered the same. Our answer: Free airline tickets, jazz music, and BBQ.

Kansas City, here we come!

We spent three action-packed days touring about Kansas and Missouri. I spent most of the time bewildered which state I was in, as the state line runs right through town but not always along something noteworthy, like a river. The map in my head says Missouri is always to the east of Kansas. That's great except that we were in that squiggly part in the top left corner where nothing lines up right. The only state I know for sure I was in the entire trip was confusion.  Thankfully I wasn't in charge of driving.

We dutifully did all sorts of online research as we prepared for our get-away. Packed with all of our confirmation numbers were two pages of intriguing Kansas City area attractions and more BBQ places than our stomach spaces could possibly accommodate. We share your surprise that Kansas City had two pages of interest (four if you're a blogger).

We spent our first full day mostly east of town in Missouri, tracing a bunch of historic trails. Living at the end of the Oregon Trail, it was quite fun to visit the beginning of it in Independence, Missouri. Three trails actually start there: the Oregon, the Santa Fe, and the California. Go ahead and guess where they each ended up.

We found an old campsite, some swales from covered wagons (swales are basically old-timey freeway ruts), and a very well-signed junction of two of the trails that was actually about a half-mile from the actual spot (Rob has read a LOT of history books). To their credit, the sign-placers admitted their faux pas on the last placard.

Piglet in a swale (go ahead say it:  A swine in a swale!)

I was honestly disappointed by Independence. Hometown to President Harry Truman, I kept imagining something between Mayberry and the quaint town square in the "Back to the Future" movies. I wanted to see cute stores with rock candy and quilts and cast iron skillets. I wanted to take a picture in the town's park gazebo that was festooned with patriotic banners. Instead, Independence was a sleepy town with cell phone stores, Curves, and a coffee shop featuring "Seattle's Best Coffee." Sigh.

The next day we toured a World War I museum. Aside from some school groups, we were by far the youngest people in the place. Most visitors and volunteer docents appeared to have had parents who fought in The Great War. We asked one of the volunteers why Kansas City, of all places, housed this historic museum. The answer was because that's where the people who had the gumption to do it were living at the time. And within days they had raised several million dollars in funding from like-minded patriots. It was a heartwarmingly American explanation.

We then went to the Hallmark Greeting Cards headquarters and museum. From the brochures, it sounded like a lively, interactive museum with a unique gift store attached. The museum was indeed interesting, revealing tidbits like Mr. Hall's personal relationship with both Winston Churchill and Norman Rockwell. It was a hoot to see old cards in the display, including one from the early '70s that I am certain I have seen in my parents' scrapbook. We got to meet one of the card designers and writers. He gamely explained how some of today's more quirky cards are created (Google, PhotoShop, old family albums...I'm thinking I might apply). I was disappointed to learn the gift shop was actually just your run-of-the-mill Hallmark store; no cool company swag for purchase. The highlight of the stop was our photo op with Hallmark's biggest celebrity.

Maxine was much shorter in person than I expected

Over the next day and a half, we toured other museums including one dedicated to TWA (the former pilot was so enthusiastic, we really didn't get to tour the place as much as hear stories). We spent some time in the American Jazz Museum wishing their displays were better organized and identified. And in the Negro Leagues Baseball Museum I learned about Satchel Paige and segregation and how going to watch a baseball game used to be a BIG DEAL. This is why old photos show everyone in the bleachers all dressed up in suits and dresses and gloves instead spectators today, as one display said, dressed like they are ready to go rake leaves.

My most favorite Kansas City museum was one that only dedicated Googling divulged. It was housed in an old produce warehouse along the river and told the story of a steamboat that sank in the Missouri River in 1856 and was then dug up in 1987.

Another Great American Story, the diggers were just five local business men with a sense of adventure who had long heard the story of the ill-fated Steamboat Arabia and got infatuated with the idea of digging up her hidden treasure.

What they found was indeed a trove of goodies.

The steamboat had been making a run up river to deliver all sorts of goods to various stores. The boat's load was described as a floating Wal-Mart. Not far from Kansas City, it got caught on a tree snag and sunk, coming to rest deep in the mud. The mud ended up preserving many of the items in a condition never seen before. Only paper and cotton items disintegrated over time. Everything else, while very muddy, was a mindblowingly intact peek into pre-Civil War life.

Dishes, glasses, tools, cookware, shoes, hats, medicine, canned fruit and vegetables (still edible), toys, silverware, cosmetics, hair pins, beads and jewelry, doorknobs. The array was mesmerizing.

The display of items was impressive and very well done.
If you are ever in Kansas City, go to this museum!

I was particularly stuck by how elegant everything was. Rubber was around but plastic hadn't been invented yet. So everything was made of metal and glass and porcelain and leather. I was also fascinated by the shoes, how they all looked pretty much the same and were definitely function over fashion. And I found it instructive to realize that as much as times may have changed, people and their basic household items really haven't. Granted, there weren't any televisions, SmartPhones, or videogames in the Arabian stash but I'm not convinced that was as much to their detriment as it is to ours.

Shoes, shoes, and more shoes.  You can have any color you want so long as it is black.

Perhaps my favorite part to the Steamboat Arabia story is what the guys did once they unearthed all of these priceless treasures. Although their original plan had been to sell everything and make a fortune, they soon realized the loot needed to be restored and shared, together as a collection and as a glimpse back in history. So instead of making a lot of money, they spent a lot of money and created a museum and staff and lab to continue carefully cleaning and preserving the history. Nearly 30 years later, they have only tackled about 2/3 of the items on the ship. I was suddenly honored to have paid the museum's admission fee.

All the trail and history hunting made us hungry.  Luckily, we came with a plan.

We tried three different BBQ joints. We had hopes for more but our gastrointestinal systems...not really accustomed to so much cow...dictated otherwise. Nevertheless, we became very dedicated flossers and toothpickers so I think we had a respectable "KC BBQ Experience." The three places we checked out are best summarized as:

1) A total dive with greasy, filthy floors that probably haven't been mopped since Bill Clinton played the sax on Arsenio Hall's show...but the BBQ was incredible.

2) A highly recommended place that had a "Business Lunch on an Expense Account" vibe and BBQ that wasn't even as good as Famous Dave's. (No offense, Dave.)

3) A place inside a Shamrock gas station that was well-worth the 30 minute wait in line. I bought a t-shirt and I might never wash it due to its delicious BBQ smoke aroma.

A bottle of the gas station BBQ sauce also made it safely home despite the TSA agent completely unpacking our suitcase, unwrapping the bottle, swabbing it for hazardous chemicals, and then haphazardly smushing it back into the suitcase. Why yes, the sauce was their blazin' hot variety, why do you ask? TSA hard at work.

Our Kansas City BBQ Quest introduced us to the delicacy called "burnt ends." They are little chunks of meat (we had beef but you can get them in pork) that are about the size of stew meat. It's probably easiest to Google their exact explanation (here -- and I typed "delicacy" before I read that entry; apparently we are all in agreement) but suffice it to say they are melty delicious and resulted in an "Mmmmm" filled meal with exchanged looks that spoke only of "BEST BBQ EVER!"

The magnificence of Kansas City Burnt Ends

In the evenings we did our best to scout out some good live music. We found one piano man wearing a John Deere hat doing covers of Billy Joel and Elton John. And we found a trio (a piano, a bass guitar, and an electric guitar) jamming under blue lights in a club that supposedly is jumping on the weekends (we were there on a Thursday; barely a hop but still fun).

Our best find was an old joint in downtown Kansas City. A vacant lot was next to it, the sidewalk was popped up like mountain ranges, and the club's awning was a bit faded and torn. It looked very promising.

We knew enough from the reviews to let the host know we wanted to listen to music down below. We creaked down some wooden stairs and found ourselves in a fantastically old speakeasy with brick walls and a low ceiling. The live music was at times a trio, a quartet, and a quintet, depending on who wanted to sit in for a set. They riffed and improvised and took turns being in the spotlight. They swayed and grooved and smiled appreciatively when we clapped. I have since informed Rob that we need to hang out at that cool jazz club in Portland more often than once every six years. I had forgotten how relaxing yet energizing it is...how much it feels like living...to listen to well-played live music. The guys in The Majestic were live Kansas City jazz; I was jazzed, too.

We decided to have dinner while grooving. I gasped a little at the prices but only until I took a bite of the best filet mignon I have ever had in my life. Paired with a favorite wine we don't often see on a wine list, the hepcat music, the Prohibition-era setting, the amusing conventioneers nearby having had just a little too much beverage, all helped spin together an evening that will be my answer the next time anyone asks me "Why Kansas City?"