She said “here in Vermont there is a fantastic agricultural community. The growers and farmers share information and sometimes we even share equipment. What is also very true here in Vermont is that the larger community is by and large very supportive of local farmers and growers. People here are very conscientious about buying local food.”
I started to realize that I was now getting closer to what I would later identify as the “tip of the antenna”. I was now dipping my toes into a hotbed of savvy and progressive farmers who were finding their locavore soulmates. They were finding savvy and progressive consumers. This was the Vermont that had me fixated with inquisitiveness prior to my departure. I had finally arrived.
To avoid spooking his horse I stirred slightly to the left. As the man had gotten closer I could see he was wearing both a large grin and a sort of jump suit you would expect to find an auto mechanic wearing. Thick, dark in color, denim, and signs of some good wear and tear. He was also “sporting” the famous Amish haircut. If you are not aware of this particular fashion it is pretty simple. Go into your kitchen and find a medium sized cereal bowl. Now go into your closet and find your hair clippers. Place the bowl on top of your head as if you were going to wear it for a helmet. Now turn the clippers on and shave all of the hair that is exposed and not protected by the bowl. And there you have it. Easy Peesy Japaneese. The famous Amish Hair do.
New Hampshire. I really liked you. But take no offense and please trust me when I tell you that the White Mountains are a beautiful wedge nestled between Maine and Vermont. And I will truthfully miss you. But Vermont and I have a covert handshake that only her and I can execute in harmony. Some situations are just meant to be.
The man leaned over to me and with his breath reeking of hard liquor he said in a quiet voice “You are right kid. I can tell you right now that I never litter. And as a matter of fact the only time I ever litter is when I have been drinking and driving and I’ve got a few bottles or cans in the truck. I don’t want the evidence in the car if I get pulled over. But I always place them neatly alongside the road. It’s not like I chuck em out of the window or anything stupid like that”.
I don’t like motels. Especially a mediocre establishment. I am the kind of guy that wants either a five star joint with a stunning view where I can sip wine from a balcony and feel important… or I want some shit hole next to the liquor store where I can make three or four unplanned trips to buy cheap booze, listen to my favorite tunes and get drunk alone.
Here was a man with very little in the way of monetary value dedicating his entire life to helping children in his community. And with this benevolence he anticipated absolutely nothing in return. He was completely content with the satisfied notion that he was responsible for helping somebody in need. And that was more than enough for him. This would be the very foundation and the catalyst for a fresh way of thinking for me. I now understood the “other kind of wealth”. - My thoughts on an encounter with a man from Maine.
These folks in rural Maine probably thought I was some quick witted, white lyin city slicker. After all I did tell them that I lived in Los Angeles. There was a time in my life when I thought that telling people that I lived in Los Angeles was going to make me appear “extra special and or important”. I would go home to my small town in Pennsylvania for the holidays and the words “I live in LA” often rolled off my tongue like I was one cool cat. Early on in this journey I would come to the realization that living in Los Angeles would create no added value to my presence in rural America. The minute you tell a dairy farmer that you live in LA… they lose interest in a heart beat. I would soon learn the art of failing to mention that I had lived in Los Angeles as I rode my bike across America.
#booksnippet - We used to have a program where elementary students would come to visit and one time a teacher had come into our barn and commented on how bad it smelled in front of her students. I thought “how can you teach a kid anything about agriculture when the teachers themselves are standing there carrying on and holding their noses?” - Maine Dairy Farmer
This has been bugging me for a little while now… And sometimes even my favorite people on twitter are guilty of this same act… But if I throw a question and or a comment out into the twittersphere and you respond to me via direct private message in which the rest of the world can not view, respond or interact you are not only limiting the potential of where the conversation could lead but you are also throwing me mixed signals. Either A. You are not confident in your response to make it known publicly in which case you may want to consider another social network or B. It’s high school all over again and you really do want to talk to me… but you are just too cool to sit at my lunch table. Either way just keep it real and join the conversation or simply bite your tongue. This thought is very much inspired by the wonderful people who engage tactfully.
Now that my cross country bike ride is complete I have decided that it is time to get back into the habit of updating my personal blog as my mind continues to travel. I will be doing that here on Tumblr as I did prior to my journey. You can expect a plethora of eclectic content from thinking out loud, snippets from my book, photos, videos and audio from my journey. I would expect a good bit of random activity as well.You know… things that strike my fancy or displeasure. So check back if you want to see what I am currently wrapping my head around. And feel free to drop me a line and interact. That is the whole point correct?
“Nathan!! damn you! If you are not going to embrace this opportunity and realize what you are about to do is absolutely 110,000 % the most fantastic, wonderful, adventurous and meaningful thing you could possibly imagine… nobody in their right mind will see it that way either. So quit the cry baby crap, finish this shower and get out there and pack your bags”
