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Bounden Duty
by James Tate
I got a call from the White House, from the
president himself, asking me if I would do him a personal
favor. I like the president, so I said, "Sure, Mr.
President, anything you like." He said, "Just act
like nothing's going on. Act normal. That would
mean the world to me. Can you do that, Leon?" "Why
sure, Mr. President, you've got it. Normal, that's
how I'm going to act. I won't let on, even if I'm
tortured," I said, immediately regretting that "tortured"
bit. He thanked me several times and hung up. I was
dying to tell someone that the president himself called
me, but I knew I couldn't. The sudden pressure to
act normal was killing me. And what was going on
anyway. I didn't know anything was going on. I
saw the president on TV yesterday. He was shaking
hands with a farmer. What if it wasn't really a
farmer? I needed to buy some milk, but suddenly
I was afraid to go out. I checked what I had on.
I looked "normal" to me, but maybe I looked more
like I was trying to be normal. That's pretty
suspicious. I opened the door and looked around.
What was going on? There was a car parked in front
of my car that I had never seen before, a car that
was trying to look normal, but I wasn't fooled.
If you need milk, you have to get milk, otherwise
people will think something's going on. I got into
my car and sped down the road. I could feel
those little radar guns popping behind every tree and bush,
but, apparently, they were under orders not to stop
me. I ran into Kirsten at the store. "Hey, what's
going on, Leon?" she said. She had a very nice smile.
I hated to lie to her. "Nothing's going on. Just
getting milk for my cat," I said. "I didn't know
you had a cat," she said. "I meant to say coffee.
You're right. I don't have a cat. Sometimes I
refer to my coffee as my cat. It's just a private
joke. Sorry," I said. "Are you all right?" she
asked. "Nothing's going on, Kirsten. I promise
you. Everything is normal. The president shook
hands with a farmer, a real farmer. Is that such
a big deal?" I said. "I saw that," she said, "and
that man was definitely not a farmer." "Yeah, I
know," I said, feeling better.
Sometime after the books had been forbidden
the one about the woman and her daughter
the one about the boy who spoke poorly
and after the smoke from the incinerators had cleared,
it was suggested that censorship be extended
to the Plover,
the Wild Turkey,
and the Common Warhen,
"But these birds have done nothing", a few protested.
"That is precisely the problem", the loudspeakers answered.
It rained that month, day and night
men with nets fanned out into the fields
and shouted to each other along the shore lines
teachers disappeared on the way to their cars.
Then the committee came after the Morning Glory
for it suggested
furling and unfurling
and the Ligustrum and the Alstermaria
because they were difficult to pronounce and spell
and the Pine Tree for its tricky needles and cones
and Parsley and red and yellow peppers for no reason at all.
You would think the lock in the gate would be safe
but that was well before whispering, shaking hands on the street,
and hooking an arm around someone's waist
became subjects of discussion
across long marble tables behind dark, glass doors
and the rain was constant and cold.
"Fine days to curl up with a good book",
someone joked.
But there were no more books.
Just the curling up
of people
quietly, in corners,
and doorways
bits of straw, floating down the streets, along the curbs,
into the turbulent rivers,
and out to sea.
We plant the seeds that one day will grow.
We water seeds already planted,
knowing that they hold future promise.
We lay foundations that will need further development.
We provide yeast that produces far beyond our capabilities.
We cannot do everything, and there is a sense of liberation
in realizing that. This enables us to do something,
and to do it very well. It may be incomplete,
but it is a beginning, a step along the way,
an opportunity for the Lord's grace to enter and do the rest.
We may never see the end results, but that is the difference
between the master builder and the worker.
We are workers, not master builders; ministers, not messiahs.
We are prophets of a future not our own.
-Archbishop Oscar Romero
In any event, when I finish liquidating property here (Eagle Grove) I intend to go back to NEIowa and establish a small farm there. I graduated from HS in West Union and farmed there for 12 years before moving here. The intent is to build the farm (croft) from scratch using energy efficient and renewable materials and have it a size and cost which is doable for most people. I have plans for a 588 sq. ft. house that can be heated a number of different ways, all of which do not use fossil fuels. The object is to provide an operating example that can provide most of their necessities and still be comfortable and enjoyable.
I am also currently restoring the Jacobson farm for Vesterheim and that is where my gardens and orchard are located. This summer, we are working on a seminar in agricultural history at the farm, but I do not have the specifics yet.
With the world currently adding 76,000,000 new mouths to feed every year, food supply will be interesting in not too many more years with or without industrial agriculture.
A little FYI, I don't dispute the legitimacy of what you state and you may in fact be right many generations in the future. My view is based on what we can realistically get accomplished within my and my sons life time. Regardless of what statistics we refrence, the fact remains that in the U.S. we consume at least 50% more food than is necessary and do 1/2 as much physical labor. My intent is to attempt to get people to eat healthier and get of their ffat a- - es and at least get the exercise that gardening would give them. Most are not going to give up meat and poultry, but if I can get them to eat less of a higher quality and nutrient rich meat product, I am gaining ground. I am also getting some degree of acceptance. If people need to eat less meat to meet that part of their craving and if we can produce that meat more efficiently on a varity of levels, the net result is a gain, albeit a small one. That type of farming will also provide more jobs, but also promote lower per capita consumption of many non-renewable resources.
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