MISTY WATERCOLORED MEMORIES

While moving last week, I unearthed this piece of paper on which I had drawn, back in the mid-80's, a sketchy chronicle of a visit I had made to Wayne's sister's farm. I hope it goes with saying that I am as much at home on a farm as Glenn Beck is at a Mensa meeting, although like most things that supposedly go without saying, I've gone and said it, rendering the whole construction superfluous, and before I relinquish this sentence I want to add that for Glenn Beck you can substitute any cable TV personality, left or right, any one of them at all, because it seems that their only qualification for succeeding Edward R. Murrow is their ability to attract a relatively small but noisy fan base of yahoos, of which there seems to be a depressingly large number when taken in toto in this country, the election of Barack Obama notwithstanding. So anyways, like I was saying, these drawings adequately limn my discomfort at being surrounded by farmy accessories such as freely wandering animals with teeth and beaks and hooves and other weapons of individual destruction. That fellow up on the left is Wayne's brother-in-law Skip, whose claim to fame in Wallyworld is his truck. In Virginia you don't have to have license plates, etc., if your truck is used solely on your farm, and as long as it is identified as such. So Skip took some black paint and a large brush and painted the words "FARM TUCK" on the side of his vehicle. No one, to this day as far as I know, has dared point out his typo. You can see from the look on Skip's face the kind of impression I was making on the farm. An impression that was only enhanced by my reaction when surrounded by a gaggle of aggressive geese and my rictus of fear when placed on a horse just long enough for Wayne to take a picture of me. The family was cautiously polite with me, much as they would have been had a Bangladeshi exchange student been dropped in their midst. Not dropped from an airplane or something, that would have been horrific to the max, I mean more like if he had been beamed in like in Star Trek--no, that would have been frightening to a farm family too. I don't know what I mean.