There Ain't No Liberals in Feed Stores
THEY AIN’T NO LIB’RULS IN FEED STORES. I spend a lot of time (and money) in feed stores and I guarantee that those who feed America on anything other than corporate level do not and never have wanted any part of what Obama is selling. Yup, we’re a mean-spirited, selfish lot totally without a shred of social conscience. We know precisely how narrow our margin for safety is and how many threats assail it. Meat prices in grocery stores have no reality in a rancher’s life except when he is buying meat for his own table. Daddy always said, “You can’t afford to run cattle unless you have a private income.” It wasn’t a joke; it was a simple statement of the uncertainties of weather, the economy, actions of the government, disease, sun spots, and other forces of nature. In a really good year we might make a miniscule profit; grocery store chains think they’re doing well when they maintain the classical four per cent. That’s not a “small” profit. That’s a good profit in the business world, after operating expenses and taxes. Too bad it doesn’t cover inflation.
You go into a feed store (wonderful smells, fascinating merchandise, nice folks, and sticker shock wherever you look. Are you up to $2500 saddles? An average price, nothing special… how about fencing at five thousand a mile? And up. Mostly up!), and you can have a good, rousing, patriotic conversation on every aisle if you want to make an opening remark…the price of antibiotics (animals’ make ours look cheap), or the astounding increase in wire and T-post prices (non-precious metals) during the last year…or the probable effect on future feed costs from a crashing economy.
THEY AIN’T NO LIB’RULS IN SMALL TOWN BARBER SHOPS. In small towns purt’ near ever’body knows ever’body else and either employs, works for, or trades with ’em. We are tied to the land and our small social groups, and charity really begins at home. We have no patience with the shiftless but pour out our bounty at times of birth, death, and catastrophe. I traveled extensively in six western counties of Texas in ’08 and saw precisely three Obama signs: one each in front of the shabbiest house in two small towns, and one in the little storefront that housed the Obama campaign in a small county seat. Democrats control local politics firmly (backlash against Reconstruction), but they are quite conservative at that level. Mebbe it takes critical mass before Demmies go really goofy…or perhaps hometown boys and girls get led astray by slick city mice. Probably both. We’re too busy trying to keep our land and businesses in the family to want to tell other people how to wash apples at th’ county level.
THEY AIN’T NO LIB’RULS IN GROCERY STORES. Hoo, boy, are there not. This is something that will grow as supplies decrease and prices increase. Now you still see the occasional liberal tee-shirt, but more and more people are focusing on their own problems in survival and are not really sympathetic with those who toil not, neither do they spin. It is frustrating to have to be careful about what we put in our carts because we know how much money is in our purses, and annoying to watch people buying luxuries with food stamps. Did you ever notice that those paying with our money are usually pretty nicely dressed and wearing good jewelry? Well, if somebody paid our grocery bills we could buy Boar’s head ham and cheeses, too. We’re the ones who know we have to choose, have to know the difference between what we can afford and what we can pay for, and have to make decisions on what is most important to us. If we buy that very expensive ham, something else has to be foregone. The welfare crowd doesn’t have that problem, nor do the illegals, for the same reason.
THEY AIN’T NO LIB’RULS IN HONKY TONKS ‘CEPTIN’ TH’ DIXIE CHICKS! One uh th’ gang commented that he hadn’t had any good political discussions in upscale bars recently. That’s ’cause th’ chardonay and sushi crowd doesn’t know much about traditional values, how money is made, how the monetary system is supposed to work, or anything except influencing public opinion and insider deals.
You git in tuh a great honky tonk lahk Willie’s Broken Spoke, in Austin, and yew don’t run into th’ welfare crowd, th’ illegals, or th’ politics of envy–although Congress is certainly doing its best to recruit us over the AIG mess which was all their doing. Ain’t nobuddy thar but good ol’ boys an’ their ladies havin’ fun, an’ we don’t hold with tearin’ down the Constitution, amnesty fur illegals, or anythin’ else much goin’ on in DC. Don’t you go burnin’ our flags or spittin’ on our Bibles, ’cause it ain’t safe. Ladies will thank you fur openin’ doors an’ look startled if you address a letter to “Ms. Farmerswife.” “Mizz” is how we pronounce “Miss,” and “Mizz-rus” means the gal’s married. We ain’t got no other honorifics, ‘cept courtesy “Aunt” an’ we like th’ ones whut we got. We don’t usually know sexual deviants unless we meet ’em when visitin’ in th’ big city, an’ nobody has a problem with “Merry Christmas!”
You look at one uh them thar fancy charts whut shows how th’ country’s divided up, all purty in red with disfiguring blobs like De-Troit, MY-ami, an’ Washin’ton, an’ coastal strips in blue, an’ you’ll see maht’ quick that th’ disagreement between th’ Nawth an’ th’ South has expanded to that between th’ city fellers an’ th’ country boys. We’re still fighting (sorry, “fahtin'”) ovuh th’ same thangs: tariffs, taxes, big government vs. small, laissez faire, standin’ on our own two feet instead of on our neighbors’ wallets, States Rights, killin’ our own snakes, the Good Book, an’ sech lahk. (DJ’all git that? “Like,” if’n you don’ savvy mah lingo.) We don’ want no gummint subsidies an’ we don’ think y’all should pay our mortgages. We don’ want tuh support anybuddy though they ain’t no kinder hearts in th’ universe.
We’s ’bout divided equally in population and on policy ‘twixt the Red an’ th Blue, but th’ Damnyankees (Yes, that’s all one word.) are still stackin’ th’ ballot boxes an’ stid o’ writin’ to y’all Ah should be out ‘splainin’ tuh people why th’ Democratic party they’s addicted to ain’t been around for a mahty long spell. Habits er good when we’s talkin’ ’bout sloppin’ th’ hawgs, but they ain’t no reason tuh vote for uh bunch uh scallawags an’ carpet baggers what er pushin’ th’ Lib’rul agenda. We jes’ ain’t got ovuh bein’ mad at Lincoln, Sherman, an’ Beast Butluh, thass all.
Hay-ul, no, Ah ain’t makin’ fun uh mah frens an’ neighbors, mo’ lahk mah seff. We tawk funny ’cause we like it, an’ tuh remind ah-sevs that we ain’t th’ problem heah an’ we’uh dag-nabbed tarred uh havin’ socialism thrust upon us an’ bein’ beggared fer a bunch uh useless slime an’ payin’ fur votes tuh keep Pelosi, Reid, Maxine Waters, Ted Kennedy, an’ Ron Dellums in office. Don’t believe in welfare, but if them folks gonna git somethin’ fur nothin’ leastways they could do is clean our houses an’ gummint buildin’s, or be th’ ones holdin’ them traffic signs ‘stead uh payin’ ovuh twenty bucks an hour fur sich services.
Ah done give up appologizin’ fur bein’ South’n. Ain’t gonna make no more jokes ’bout how Ah flies th’ Stahs an Bahs ’cause it amuses th’ hands. It does, but Ah likes it too. Ah’m fed up with income- an’ soul-destroyin’ regulation thass drahvin’ us outta business, an’ what’n tarnation made th’ Feds thank that outlawin’ are raht t’ feed ourselves an’ others should be a crime in th’ name of “food safety?” Hey, anybody you know evah git sick from eatin’ at home? Didn’t think so. Evah have any problems with home-canned vegetables? ‘Course not. Th’ problems come out uh heavily regulated an’ inspected restaurants an’ factories. Had a fren, oncet, back in mah college days, heir to uh big corporation. (Hey, got me three uh them pay-puhs whut says DEE-gree on ’em, but common sense counts thuh most, that an’ th’ bonnie blue flag.) Aftuh a summah spent learnin’ th’ bidness in the Phillipines warn’t nuthin’ would git Lon tuh eat Daddy’s best-known confection. Seems he took a real dislike tuh th’ gi-gantic bugs an’ rats what infested th’ factories.
Restrictin’ food perduction ain’t ’bout nuthin’ but pertectin’ agribusiness an’ controllin’ crowds should it come tuh “insurrection,” as th’ Feds’ull call it. ‘Bout tahm ya’ll got serious about wass goin’ on an’ reflectin’ on a gummint that dun’t want yuh t’ have no more’n two weeks’ food in yore house. ‘Bout tahm t’ question how cum them varmints got they eyes on our guns agin’ an’ whah they ain’t much ammo available an’ that costs three tahms whut it did last year. Thank Gawd we’uh “one shot–one squirrel” types, not prone t’ sprayin’ bullets ’round like th’ SWAT guys do, or we’d be ovuh-run with squirrels, ‘possums, ‘coons, bob cats, an’ othuh pests. Dang if it don’ cost a dolluh evah tahm Asia shoots a wild hawg. Plus tax, uh cos.’
THEY AIN’T NO LIB’RULS in small town banks. They ain’t no Lib’ruls cat fishin.’ Don’t think they’s many Lib’ruls in small town lie-berries, jes’ ladies wantin’ tuh keep th’ computers from bein’ used for porn-ography. Probly ain’t no Lib’ruls in th’ Boy Scouts, lease-wise not at Eagle Scout level.
Ya’ll thank this ovuh whahl Ah stots ovuh an’ whips out twenny or thutty thousan’ wuds on whah th’ South was rot. We wuz, y’know. Had a perfect raht tuh git shet uh dictatorial gummint an go are sep-rut ways. All we wanted was uh simple little no-fault dee-vorce an’ Lincoln an’ his bunch dun turnt it intuh a shootin’ mattah.
Save yo’ Corn-federate dollars. No, not because th’ South’s gonna rise agin, fer shoe-uh, but ’cause they got IN-trinsic value, unlike Bernanke Ben’s counterfeit.
Linda Brady Traynham
March 31, 2009