I Took a City Girl to the Farm Show

This always amazes me. A month ago the trees were dormant and now we already have little nutlets.

I have hired a literary agent to help me sell books. She is so 'city' one of her nicknames is "Hollywood." As part of her education I took her to the Farm Show in Tulare last month. I thought you would enjoy hearing what she thought.

For the record, she really liked the ice bream from Superior Dairy. Apparently they don't have ice cream that good in Hollywood. 

Go Superior and COS! 

You Can Teach A City Girl New Tricks

by Dana Kennon

Guest blogger

If you had told me that one day I’d attend the World Ag Expo, I would have asked, “What’s an Ag?”  As a bona fide city girl, my entire exposure to life on the farm had been limited to watching Green Acres and just driving past them on California’s Interstate 5.  We’d pass farm after farm with nice neat rows of green and I’d try to imagine what life was like and why people always said that farming was such a hard life.  I mean, how hard can it be?  You drop seeds into dirt, the rain waters them, workers do the picking and then you get a check, right?

So here I was, riding along in a white pickup truck, waiting in a never-ending line of white pickup trucks to park in a giant field of white pickup trucks to visit my first Ag event, The World Ag Expo in Tulare, California.  Thank God I had a private tour guide, local farmer Paul Betancourt, who was patient enough to also act as Ag expert and farm-speak interpreter. On to the show. 

My first lesson that day… AG BOYS LOVE TOYS and SIZE REALLY DOES MATTER.  As we entered the Expo, we found ourselves face to face with machinery that could comfortably house a family of four.  It was like being in the middle of a Transformers movie.  The tires alone on these mega-contraptions were bigger than my friend’s Manhattan apartment.  Paul showed me the inner workings of one of the enormous hay machines.  These monsters now come complete with air conditioning, a stereo system, GPS, walk-in closets, fully stocked bar, swimming pool and a putting green.  So I thought to myself, if these things can drive along, cut the hay, scoop it up, smoosh it, tie it and then spit it out again in a tidy little bundle, what the heck do farmers do all day?  Have country folk become slackers?  Perhaps the tough part of farming these days was all about the care and feeding of livestock.  So, onto the dairy exhibits…

What I knew about dairy cows you could fit into the head of a pin.  In the MOO section, booth after booth was set up and gizmos and gadgets displayed.  I listened to people speaking in their native tongue, I call it “farm speak” which I understand is only marginally different than “ranch speak”, but it was all Greek to me.  Thank goodness I had that Betancourt automatic translator by my side.

As we worked our way through the crowd I realized the multitude of milking machines displayed began to resemble terrifying mid-evil torture devices.  When curiosity got the better of me, I paused to ask my guide some questions about these wicked looking things and the poor moos that had to endure them.  Not having been a dairy farmer, Paul deferred to the nearest expert, Wilford Brimley.  No, not the real Wilford Brimley, but a great look-alike (you know… the Quaker Oatmeal guy who also starred in Cocoon with the round head and big hairy handlebar mustache).  My question, “When the cow’s utters stop giving, does the machine stop pulling?  Does it stop yanking, squeezing and sucking????  Does it understand NO MORE MEANS NO MORE???  I suddenly realized I was frightening my little Wilford who was attempting to give a polite response while I stood there crossing my arms in front of my chest as if it was Fort Knox.  Apparently I had subconsciously been protecting the little ‘B’ cups the good lord had given me.  Who would have ever thought I’d be empathetic to a cow?

So what did I learn at the Ag Expo?

Forget about, “Neither rain nor sleet nor gloom of night…” you sissy postal workers.  The American farmer is on duty 24 hours a day, 7 days a week through all weather, their spouse’s mood swings and even teenager’s drama.

They have a partnership with God yet they have to compete with Mother Nature and sometimes Mother Nature wins.  So the rest of us, who when we do a good job, follow all the directions and do it on time, we are rewarded, but for farmers, despite their tremendously hard work, it’s a crap shoot.  Every season, every crop and threw every major storm, freeze, and bug disaster they push on.    But, despite these odds, they continue to feed every darn one of us multiple times a day, 365 days a year.  So what did I learn about farmers and AG?  I learned they are truly unsung heroes. 

 God bless them, everyone.