Monday, February 4, 2013

Chew on This

I’m a Ford girl. Not even quite sure why, other than memories of Ford commercials burned into my subconscious as a teenager. My first car was a 76 Ford Gran Torino, which I hated with a passion, but I’ve since moved on to other Fords that I’ve loved, ultimately to my F-350. What it sucks up in gas it makes up for in practicality. No more piling up scrap metal into the trunk of my car to take to the dump, or seeing how many bags of shavings I can wedge into the back seat. And being able to tow stuff, well, that opened up a whole new world.

That said, I have to admit that my favorite Super Bowl commercial last night was from Dodge, where they featured Paul Harvey’s commentary on farmers. It was visually beautiful and quite poignant, and brought the noisy fourth-quarter football bar patrons to a hush as it drew them in. Think about this the next time you buy and/or eat real food.

"And on the eighth day, God looked down on his planned paradise and said, ‘I need a caretaker.’ So God made a farmer.

"God said, ‘I need somebody willing to get up before dawn, milk cows, work all day in the field, milk cows again, eat supper, then go to town and stay past midnight at a meeting of the school board.’ So God made a farmer.

"God said, ‘I need so
mebody willing to sit up all night with a newborn colt and watch it die, then dry his eyes and say, "Maybe next year," I need somebody who can shape an ax handle from an ash tree, shoe a horse with hunk of car tire, who can make a harness out hay wire, feed sacks and shoe scraps. Who, during planting time and harvest season will finish his 40-hour week by Tuesday noon and then, paining from tractor back, put in another 72 hours.’ So God made the farmer.

"God said, ‘I need somebody strong enough to clear trees and heave bales, yet gentle enough to yean lambs and wean pigs and tend the pink-comb pullets, who will stop his mower for an hour to splint the leg of a meadowlark.’

"It had to be somebody who'd plow deep and straight and not cut corners. Somebody to seed, weed, feed, breed, and brake, and disk, and plow, and plant, and tie the fleece and strain the milk. Somebody who'd bale a family together with the soft, strong bonds of sharing, who would laugh, and then sigh and then reply with smiling eyes when his son says that he wants to spend his life doing what Dad does. So God made a farmer."

Regardless of your religious convictions, can I hear an "Amen"?

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