Once there were two farmers, one young, one old. Each one had a very different idea of what farming was all about. The old farmer simply took his mule and plow, worked the land, sowed his seed, and reaped his harvest. Year in and year out, he had what he needed, his family had what they needed. They made a modest living. The other farmer was different. He didn't plant anything for the first two years he had his farm. Instead he studied his would be crops, he ran all kinds of tests using very sophisticated equipment. He discovered everything there was to know about everything he was about to plant. After two years of near constant research he finally planted his crop. Of course, as to be expected, his yield was almost twice the old mans. He sold more, he had more, by all accounts he was doing very well. After every harvest, the young farmer studied carefully everything he did the previous year, and made slight changes to increase his yield even more. It got to the point where he had to buy more equipment, get larger trucks, build a larger barn. Yes, things were going very well for the young farmer. One day the younger farmer was sitting in his study and he started to feel bad. The older farmer was reaping half what he was. So the younger farmer went over to the older farmers house to have a talk. "Listen, I have some extra fertilizer, extra pesticide, extra everything. Maybe we can work out some kind of trade, you're not harvesting nearly as much as I am, and I'd love to help you out" he said to the old timer. "No, thank you for your offer, it's certainly very kind, but not necessary" The old man said. "I just hate to see you having a tough time" "What makes you think I have a tough time?" "Well, it takes so much work for you to do everything, and you're not getting the harvest-" "What would I do with all that extra product?", the old man cut him off. "Sell it, use the money and invest in more modern equipment of course" "And why would I want to do that?" replied the old man "Well, so you could grow even more" "Where does it all end?" "Well, it doesn't, don't you see, you'd have more money, more equipment, more product, it would be wonderful", the answer seemed simple enough to him. The old man thought for a long time. He waited, not to formulate his own thoughts, but to allow the young man sitting in front of him to mull over their brief interchange. "You miss the point young man. When you first bought that farm you had barren fields for two years, now you're pushing out more product than ever thanks to all the time you took. But let me ask you, how many times have you had your hands in your own soil, watched the sunset as you harvested by hand, enjoyed every bite of a meal because it was made with your own two hands? You're a mule in a grinding mill, running in a circle, never getting anywhere. You're excess has allowed you to purchase more machinery to continue this method of farming, getting farther and farther from the point of it all. I don't NEED three barn loads of surplus, I don't NEED more money OR new machinery. I've always had a good respectable harvest, and I always will, I don't need to spend my time chasing ghosts." "Ghosts?" the young man was dumbfounded. "GHOSTS I said, yes. You're making all this progress. To what end might I ask? You're chasing a goal that doesn't exist. You could have "secret crop grower formula" over there in your house "just sprinkle it onto fields and VIOLA!" but that wouldn't change one thing." the old man said coyly. "And what's that?" "This shit grows in the earth with or without your input. People like you go to the market down the street to buy raspberries and blackberries and blueberries in the late summer for $4 a pound when you've got a briar patch not but a mile away in the woods. Don't confuse the convenience and progress of the modern world with truth. Just because your way works doesn't mean my way needs help. And just because you do less work doesn't mean I'm the worse off. You're consumed, you're in a never ending race to grind all the flower first, donkey. Wake up! Everything is around you and it's not going away. Go ahead, erect another barn, you won't consume more; buy more machinery, it'll break down and you can replace it with the money you've saved; increase your sales and put up a house four times the size of my shack, you're still going to die sooner or later. Why chase ghosts? There's a whole world outside the flour mill, donkey." "I think you're missing the point, friend -" the old man cut him off again. "No son, you miss the point. There's nothing wrong with progress, there's nothing wrong with your life or lifestyle, but understand it's not the only way, and it's built on a foundation of sand. No matter what you decide, everything will keep going as it should, there is no RIGHT answer. But what disturbs me my boy, is you've somehow got it into your head that you NEED all those things to farm, when all you need is some land a two good hands. You do all this research, trying to figure out how it all fits together, how you can make it fit better. You don't know anything. It's like trying to tell me how a guitar works before you even know what a guitar IS." The young man left, he thought about what the old man said very frequently. Some years later the young man now had one of the largest farms in the town. The old man had passed away and his home remained empty. One night, as the young man was sleeping he awoke to the smell of smoke. Running out of his house he noticed a large fire had started in his study and was consuming the rest of his home at a decently fast pace. The young mans house burnt to the ground that night. And for the first time since his conversation he understood what the old man was talking about. He sold his farm to his friend and moved into the old mans house where he lives to this day. Harvesting just enough for him and a little for the local market. He used to spend his nights running numbers and making sure everything was on schedule, refining his methods of farming, and looking into new advancements. Now he walks his fields at night under a blanket of an infinite number of stars. He has less money, but he's not destitute. It doesn't matter, he had figured out the secret of life: Ask every question you can think of, seek no answers, they don't matter anyway.
:: listens to the story with great interest, looking up at the storyteller like a child, enthralled in the wonderfull tale. ::
Thanks for the positive feedback guys. I've had this rattling around in my head in all kinds of different forms and finally got it out the way I wanted to.
A farmer who doesn't need more money? This reminds me of the story of the agricultural expert who went from farm to farm offering advice on production problems. Stopping at one spread, he let the owner take him on a tour of the place, then started offering advice on expected market prices, seeds, crop rotation and the like. Finally, the owner cut him off. "Son, I don't farm half so good as I know how already." The moral to the story is, "Take fire safety precautions and prevent your house from burning down". Also, there is no discussion of farm debt in the story, which is a major preoccupation with every farmer I've every met.
^ you don't actually believe this to be a story about farming do you? I suspect you don't, and find your comment quite interesting because of that.
Of course the message is a noble (and familiar) one, but I found the execution a bit heavy-handed. I really think this would do a lot better without the sermonizing about the evils of progress. It could be presented in such a way that the reader could make up his or her own mind, and not have the politics/philosophy spoon-fed to them. In this form, the characters are far less engaging... everything is black and white and there's no room left for doubt. If you don't mind me saying so, I would find this piece a lot more exciting if the old farmer's sanity or character was left in question, and his 'wisdom' was mixed with something to make me feel a little uneasy about the young farmer's adoption of the archaic lifestyle he leads. To have a story where a sober, wiser character convinces a younger, brasher character to change is rather simplistic and obvious-- and even seems to override the basic message of 'progress is a myth'. I mean, you're basically saying that progress exists so long as we backtrack and 'get back to our roots'. To have a change occur that leaves the reader equally uneasy or uncertain of whether or not it is right or satisfying would be more in line with the overall message of the story. Maybe it wouldn't be such a fable that way, but it would be a lot more engaging.
It's about two Dawson City, Yukon stock brokers discussing prices of pork bellies on the Alaska Stock Exchange futures market. Or did I miss something?
