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Pirate on the High Seas of the Sun
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16520 |
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BOOK WORLD
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11 / 1989 |
4,761 Words |
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Tom Montag
Tom Montag of Fairwater, Wisconsin, was raised on an Iowa
farm. His books of poetry include Making Hay, Middle Ground,
Between Zen & Midwestern, and His Hat & Art. |
If you don't want to hear farmers talk, don't stop to talk to farmers.
Farmers talk about the weather, about the price of corn and pigs, cattle and beans, and about the government sticking its nose into their business. And, as my dad might say, too close a nose is bound to hurt you, whether it's the government's or some neighbor's snooping about how much you got, or had, or will get, and from where, and why.
Farmers like to talk about farming as gambling. Wisconsin farmer Gene Henke told me twelve years ago that "you can go to Las Vegas for a week and gamble, but on the farm you have to gamble 365 days out of the year. You're gambling with the weather and all the way along, with everything else. It's probably the biggest gamble there is. It's a good life, as long as you can at least keep making a living."
Some days it rains, and some days it doesn't--either way, you've got work to do. "We hope for a good year," Henke had added; "I guess that's the farmer's life--you work all year, and in one day it could be gone. That's the way it goes."
Like that summer night when my folks went to see the movie Gone with the Wind: A fifteen-minute hailstorm chopped up the alfalfa so bad you couldn't tell which third of the field had already been baled, which third had been cut to dry on the ground, and which third had still been standing. The soybeans looked as if they'd already been harvested, only stubble left. Yeah, Gone with the Wind. In a violent instant, the year's crops were gone. The next week, we plowed the soybeans under. That fall my
... (1997 of 24446 Characters)
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