Everybody loves to clown Nebraska. "It's just corn." "It's a flyover." "I drove through it once and lost four hours of my life." Cool story. Meanwhile you're out here eating steak that ruins every other steak forever, paying rent that doesn't require a second job, and watching an entire state turn into one enormous red crowd on fall Saturdays like it's a religious holiday. Which it is.
So yeah, the heart is literal. Not ironic. Not a bit. You love the wind that tries to remove your face in January, the tornado sirens you treat as background noise, the cabbage and beef pockets, the cranes, the sky that goes on so long it feels illegal. Let the coasts keep guessing.
Cut from soft, substantial fabric that actually holds its shape after you wash it, with a print that stays bold instead of flaking off by week three. Comfortable enough for the drive, the tailgate, the couch, and every wind advisory in between.
