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City Folk vs. Farmers
I could have titled this “Good Ol’ Boys vs. City Folk,” but I think “Good Ol’ Boy” has a bad connotation with some people. For me, it is a compliment. I won’t be able to do as good a job as Dr. Bastiat, but his post made me think of a different distinction between types of people.
We live in a very fortuitous location to study the differences. We moved to our current house 20 years ago, which makes us among the “new folks.” The nearest neighbor down the road has been there his entire life and his father grew up on our place. In the other direction are four new houses that were built when they subdivided 30 acres next to us. Past those new houses are almost all older houses with long-term residents.
Typically, the “new” people wanted a bigger place in the country. From where we sit, you can see the realization when they find out that a push mower won’t work with 10 acres or so. The next step is to get an under-powered riding mower. That lasts for a year or so until they move up to something more realistic. With one exception, the new people get outside help (can I say “farm out?”) for anything more than a garden bed.
The Good Ol’ Boys tend to have the tractor their father used to cut hay and a small riding mower for the small part of their property which is “yard.” Most people see a ’70s Ford tractor and just see an old tractor. I see a Good Ol’ Boy who can keep things running. The wagon used to gather wood may be even older, but it has holders welded onto the frame to carry the chain saw, lube, and a tooth file for the saw, maul, and splitter. It may look junky but I see an efficient design for someone who doesn’t want to walk back and forth just to build up the woodpile. Speaking of walking, the Good Ol’ Boys tend to walk slowly, but they can keep it up all day.
If a problem comes up that needs special equipment (like a hay baler) or talent to deal with, the Good Ol’ Boys know someone — probably that they went to High School with — who can help. Our neighbor also knows the local police and people who maintain the road.
The new people don’t have animals except dogs or cats as a pet and maybe chickens — I’m not sure what for — I never see anyone gathering eggs or killing a chicken for Sunday dinner. Going towards the longer-term residents, there are more horses and cows. There are a couple of new places that have large horse rings and give lessons, including dressage.
Up until the last year or so, deer season was pretty active and most of the older houses had a deer hanging in the backyard.
The Good Ol’ Boys keep track of their neighbors — in particular, the older residents who need help outside. And several of them take care of the small stone church down the road. I’m not sure the City Folk know anyone but their nearest neighbor. Their focus seems to be on their jobs downtown. It’s not like the Good Ol’ Boys only work on their farm, they all have outside jobs.*
I’m not sure where exactly this is going, but the Good Ol’ Boys seem to be more connected — to the land, animals, and neighbors. The newer people are much more insular. Back to Dr. Bastiat’s post, I think the Good Ol’ Boys are pretty comfortable in their own skin and take others based on what they can do rather than how they dress. The City Folks, not so much.
The bad news is that the Good Ol’ Boys are getting older and passing on with their children mostly moving away. I feel sometimes that we are like anthropologists who are watching the assimilation and dying out of a remote Amazon tribe.
Given a choice, if something terrible happened and we were out of power for a long period, I would cast my lot with the Good Ol’ Boys and hope I could pull my weight. My career was as an Electronics Engineer, so that’s 54 years of experience down the drain. I did rebuild a car engine, so maybe there is some hope.
*When the old farmer won the lottery, he was asked what he would do with all the money. His answer was : “I dunno, I guess I can afford to keep farming for another couple of years.”
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That’s their mistake. We bought 10 acres or so, but we only cleared about a half acre for the house. The rest will never be mowed, at least by me or my wife.
I get the impression that most people don’t really think of the consequences. There are even two new houses within about 2 miles from us where the owner has taken out several acres of perfectly good woods and are now trying to get a lawn to grow.
We just wanted a clearing big enough that a tree couldn’t fall on the house.
All your comments are decent assessments about the situation.
I knew we made the right decision about where to live when a teen in a BMW went sailing around a curve in rural Lake County. This was in the rain and he ended up ditching said car. (He had to be going at least 15mph over the speed limit, and this was in a downpour.)
I immediately stopped, grabbing the first aid kit on my way out of the car.
A total of six other people stopped as well. Luckily for the kid, he was not hurt, although I suspect later that day, he might have been in trouble with whichever parent had lent him the car.
The next day I happened to be reading the San Francisco Chronicle. One article related the awful story of a young college student who had collapsed in one of the many downtown transit tunnels connecting the BART lobby to the trains.
He had collapsed around midnight. His body lay in its prone position until 11 Am the next day, when someone finally cared enough to examine him. He had died in a diabetic coma.
I like being around people who care about other people, and living inside a culture where that is still possible.
You’re singing my song. Mr. She and I moved out to the country about 35 years ago. And although we have been recognized during that time as ‘different,’ we’ve been accepted. And even more gently so, on my own part, since his death last year.
There aren’t any McMansions out where I am. When we moved out here, we made a conscious decision to move “two exits” past the “development” surrounding Interstate exits. So far, so good. Just in case that changes, I’m considering pigs as an investment (smelly), and perhaps miniature donkeys (noisy and annoying) as pets. Before the interlopers get here, of course.
For years, we had an ancient David Brown 42 horsepower tractor (all we could afford at the time). We got rid of it only because I simply couldn’t manage the no-power-steering aspect as Mr. She became less able to drive it himself. I’ve become pretty adept at managing the subsequent 29-horsepower New Holland tractor and accessories (including the backhoe), as one does. A few years ago, I replaced my beloved Snapper (which my granddaughter called “Granny’s Tractor,” and which channeled the Kennywood Jackrabbit), with a John Deere riding mower which is not nearly as exciting, but is more efficient (gave the Snapper to my neighbor who’ll get some use out of it).
I’m not totally on board with hunting myself. Still, I greatly prefer it when it’s in the interest of my neighbors, who actually do something with the game they kill, rather than the touristy outlanders who leave it to rot on my land.
I’ve already been there. And yes. I can pull my weight, and you probably can too.
Let’s have some opinion from our Armed Forces people with experience spanning recent decades on what effect this observed difference is or will be having on our volunteer enlistments and their performance. (I miss Boss Mongo)
So true with me. We first bought an el cheapo mower from Lowes. After about three years, the deck was starting to get thin in places (we have a lot of sandy areas). I gave the thing away and bought a John Deere GT275. Had it about 25 years, and it’s still going strong . . .
Oh, we have 11.6 acres, but only about 3 are worth mowing.
I suggest you contact the local (if there is one) John Deere dealer. That’s what I did. The Lowes/Home Depot versions of the tractors are, most likely, not the ones you are looking for.
26 acres here; it’s just me and the Mrs and two dogs. We have been here for 25 years. About 2 acres fenced around the house get mowed and some of the rest gets shredded with the tractor a couple of times each year.
The good old boys are the same mix of people you find anywhere. Some are great people taking care of business and some are, well, not so good. Old ranches get broken up into smaller and smaller parcels. Some of the descendants take care of the land and some, not so much. Unless you have a really big place where you can lease hunting rights it’s almost impossible to make a living from agriculture any more.
Some who move out here get it, and some should have stayed in the city. So far the people who belong back in the city or suburbs can’t influence local politics so for now things are OK. I just hope they don’t reach that critical mass in my lifetime.
One of my early conversations was about people moving out here and then trying to change things: https://ricochet.com/492756/archives/urbanizing-the-hill-country/
I took my oldest son on the Jackrabbit for his first roller coaster ride. It has been quite a while since I have been to Kennywood, but IIRC the Jackrabbit gave you a sudden downhill ride out of the station and around a sharp turn before the cogs connect and pull you up the first hill. My son cried out, “It’s going too fa-a-st!” I told him, “It’s too late. You’re committed now.” Perhaps I should have started him on the Racer, but he got through it ok.
I’ll never qualify as a good ol’ boy, but have been fortunate to spend enough time in the country to recognize the qualities in your post.
There’s now an unfortunate event–at least to me–going on in Virginia that’s worth noting. It’s the functional equivalent of gentrification, wherein “city folk,” the majority of whom are left-leaning, move into a previously countrified area and immediately start changing it to their liking. The area that I’m most familiar with–Rappahanock County–is starting to have this phenomenon in a serious manner. While some of the old-timers are, in fact, dying off, I’m sure quite a few see this as an unfortunate invasion.
LOL. In the deep, dark history of my life, the “Racer” stands out as the one which (perhaps) I and my stepchildren should have started out with.
But we didn’t. Oh, well.
PS: I’ll die happy if, at some point in the next few years, Kennywood can reinstitute its love affair with Prince Edward Island potatoes and the cheesy-version of same. Who (recognizing that–I know it’s a pretty insular thing) is with me?
We spent Labor Day weekend in our camper on my parents 120+ acre farm. Lots of good ole boys around including my brother. He was so excited to finally have a few days off from his “public work” job to play with his new tractor. He was as happy as a hog in slop to run the bush hog in the field across the creek. I heard all the stories of who was helping whom all weekend. I said I’d never move back, but it sure was a nice break.
I did not serve, but live half a block from our local Armed Forces Recruiting Center. About two-thirds would fit in my Grandpa’s category of “ain’t worth feeding.”
I’m old enough to remember the gentrification of Fairfax County.
There used to be bumper stickers reading “Dont Fairfax Loudoun”. Now, they are “Don’t Loudoun Fauquier”
”. Its on the move
I did. I bought the John Deere lawn tractor 25 years ago. Actually, closer to 26 now . . .
I’m down in the Lynchburg area and we can already see the effects of the moves in Bedford County just to the west of the city. Then again, I perceive Bedford County to have been a bit peculiar from Campbell, Amherst, and Appomattox Counties all along.
Here’s a question I’ve been pondering.
Is this difference between the people of the country and the people of the city what determined the outcome of the conflict in Afghanistan?
I am making no comparison between Taliban (Islamic principles) and Good-ole-boys (Judeo-Christian principles).
Was the government in Kabul and that government’s Army that collapsed when America left reflecting what military looks and acts like when it comes from the city?
I’m seriously thinking of giving my old Deere to middle daughter when she gets her new digs. What I want is a JD lawn tractor with a blade or front-end loader so I can maintain the dirt road to our driveway. It’s so bad, delivery people swear they hear banjo music whenever they drive on it . . .
Not liking the “washboard” effect?
Giving things to the kids as they set up housholds is a time honored justification for mom and dad to get new stuff. My in-laws gave us their dining room set when we married because they wanted to get a new one. We gave a reclining chair to our son so I could justify a new one for myself. And it’s healthy for the kids to live with hand-me-downs while they save up to pay cash for new stuff.
We either have a washboard or deep gulleys . . .
In my life, that’s a great thing!