PLAIN CITY, Ohio: Some folks might have considered this place “plain” when there was nothing but German-speaking Amish farmers here, but today this town is as up-to-date as any city. The farmers are still here, at least some of their off-spring are, but this place is growing.
They’re building a new grocery store, high school, township hall, and new houses everywhere. It’s good for the town, but they are covering up some of the best farm land in the state.
I’m out here for an all day conference of no-till farmers at the Der Dutchman restaurant. Even the restaurant is expanding. They had to. There’s men around this state that keep an eye out for meetings scheduled here, and no matter the topic they’ll pay the fifteen or twenty dollar registration, and sit there all day, just for the privilege of eating the dinner at noon. (You notice I call it dinner… the food they serve is so good, and so much of it, it would be an insult to call it lunch.)
These farmers get together to learn from each other. For example, there was four of them that in an hour spouted out about 50 good ideas on how to grow more corn and soybeans for less money. Why if everybody in attendance went back home and put into practice what they heard, (at least the part that suits their situation), it would bring more prosperity to the countryside than the Farm Bill.
One man told me how surprised he was that these farmers shared all their best ideas with their competitors, “Can you imagine the car companies doing the same thing?”
He’s right of course. And besides, these farmers don’t have any books or tapes to sell. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Last month I mentioned a new book, “The One-Minute Millionaire”, by my friend Mark Victor Hansen and Bob Allen. It is already a best seller. But don’t expect to ever see a book called “The One-Minute Millionaire Farmer”. If ever such a book is written it would be classified as Fiction. And you would find it in the section of the bookstore marked Comedy.
Last week America celebrated one of our greatest of holiday traditions… shopping the day after Thanksgiving. Folks in other parts of the world don’t understand why we act this way. I think it’s the turkey. See, there’s something in the meat that when it reaches the lower digestive track it triggers a hormonal reaction in the human body, mainly female. It’s the hormone that says, “get into the car, go forth and shop.”
For us men, the third helping of breast meat kinda bumps up against a different hormone, the one that says, “go lay on the couch and watch football for four days”.
I been reading about these folks getting sick on cruise ships. For those affected it is nothing to sneeze at, but these reporters seem to forget that boat rides have been known to make people ill. (see Historic Quotes)
When you crowd 3000 on board, usually paired up in a compartment no bigger than a walk-in closet at home, it should be no surprise if by the end of a week a couple hundred have visited the ship’s doctor. But this news won’t slow down the vacationers. When it’s 10 degrees F at home, the Carribean is mighty appealing.
P.S. Happy 100th Birthday this week to Senator Strom Thurmond. I’ve been telling everyone “we” were born in the same year (1879), so they’ll be surprised to find out you’re so young.
Historic quotes from Will Rogers:
“Well I landed after eight long days of heaving forth everything I looked at. We left New York at ten o’clock; I ate a hearty dinner and then the thing came off… After that dinner on Wednesday I could not eat a thing until Monday. Then after various attempts, got a lemon and an orange that never managed to find the way back.”(from a letter to his sisters, sent from England, April 4, 1902)
“I was supposed to make a one night trip by a small boat from down the coast (in New Zealand, February 1904). Well the train I was on pulled up beside the Boat, and I knowing that I was going to be sick, rushed aboard right away, and I says to myself I will get in the bunk and maby that will help me from being too sick. Well it’s the paint, and that smell of varnish that does it. Well I got a whiff of it going down, and I crawled right into my bunk, which was in among a lot of other men’s bunks. Now I was under the impression that the Boat was going to pull right out. But this old sniff of paint had got me, and sure enough I started in being sick. I had the old Lunch Basket tied right on to the edge of the bed. (They have lovely little Cuspidors of a thing for Birds like me.) I sure was going strong. I thought well I havent got long to be sick, for we will be in there before long, and finally some fellow come in and asked another fellow, ‘What’s the matter with this Boat, ain’t it ever going to pull out?’
Here I was practically dying and the boat tied to the dock, we hadent moved a peg. But the old imagination had done some working along with the old Stomacher, and here I was dying and still tied to the dock.” WA #472, Jan. 10, 1932