Farm

My first job out of college was with a corporation with a household name. The position was dealing with higher end food service. It was the type of operation that used chefs and "quality" ingredients. A higher priced operation with some fairly exclusive clientele.

My coworkers were from all over the world. They had left the far reaches of the Earth and worked in other far reaches before this particular stop in the shadows of Atlanta's skyscrapers. 

These folks knew good food.

So it caught my attention when I heard one of them comment, "why are we using canned peaches? Isn't this Georgia?"

Peaches weren't out of season. Some of the finest peach orchards in the world were an hour and a half down I-75. And we were using canned peaches. They might even have been from China.

The previous summer I had visited Atlanta. I was in Centennial Olympic Park with a couple thousand people from all over the world. One thing that sticks out in my mind was an exhibit to tell these visitors our story - to introduce us to them. It proclaimed "The South is Agriculture". 

It's true. If you can eat it, wear it, smoke it, chew it, turn it into fuel and burn it, we'll try to make it spring from the ground. Agriculture is such a big deal that parts of our agriculture depend on other parts of our agriculture.

And we eat canned peaches from China.

Georgia specifically: we grow peaches, pecans, peanuts, apples, native grapes (muscadine, etc.), Vidalia onions, cotton, corn, soybeans. We raise poultry, beef, pork. And more.

And we eat canned peaches from China. 

Earlier I read a Twitter tirade straight out of Tattnall County. It inspired this post. There's a man down there, a Chicken Hippie, if you will. He has this crazy notion that Georgia dirt, fresh Georgia air, and Georgia sunshine will produce quality, tasty, nutritious chicken, duck, quail, & turkey. No crowded chicken houses. (You can find him on Twitter at @GApasturedbirds and on Instagram at grassrootsfarmsga.)

Next time you pass a chicken truck on the highway, take a look at the cargo and see if you agree with him.

Admittedly, I don't buy birds from him. Not right now. He makes his birds available through a distributor and restaurants can offer customers sustainable, locally-grown, pasture-raised poultry. And then they can switch back to Holly Farms and not tell you any different.

Thus the tirade.

Listen to me. This isn't about being a foodie. It isn't about being a hipster. It's about being a Southerner. It's about English settlers founding Georgia on agriculture in 1734. It's about Native American tribes sustaining themselves on this red clay on agriculture seven centuries before the English came.

It's about Georgians not eating canned peaches from China.

And it's about not wondering how a small farmer in South Georgia is selling poultry to restaurants in Atlanta and beginning to wonder why such products aren't widespread in our grocery stores. Why do we settle for less just because it costs a little less?

And Grassroots isn't the only farm like this out there. I know several people raising cattle & crops the old ways. You'll find them if you look. 

There's more on this topic but it will have to wait for another time.

Until then...

Kickoff & Community

Georgia has four seasons. Ice Storm, Dogwood, Heat Stroke, and Football.

Football season began last night.

This is a cultural event in small southern towns. Understanding the significance of what exactly happens under the lights on any given Friday in Georgia might explain what communities are all about. 

I walked to the stadium in time for the 7 pm kickoff. Kickoff was at 7:30. I paid the admission price for my son. Then he promptly disappeared to engage in the social activities of middle schoolers in our community, only some of which involve watching the game. I found my seat and then waited as the crowd trickled in. 

Within a few minutes, I had neighbors. People that I do not know but whom were dressed a lot like me and we talked like old friends...which is rare for an introvert...but it's football, so there's that. Then, just as I was wondering if my neighbor (not these strangers next to me, my buddy from across the street) was there, I turned and there he was. We talked football, local happenings, and a little about his time as the principal of the school.

Then came the marching band, marching and playing familiar tunes that we all associate with our gatherings in that place. They were dressed in t-shirts and shorts as Heat Stroke & Football have decided to cohabitate for a while.

The teams were warming up and the public address announcer (which is a fancy synonym for David) was making announcements, including birthdays and anniversaries of people who are probably not all that famous south of Dry Creek or north of the lumber yard but we all knew who he was talking about. 

Then our team huddled up, took a knee, and prayed. The A.C.L.U. would probably have a fit but this isn't their community. Besides, we figure if Bible Belt team prayers don't offend our Islamic head coach, some bored lawyers can probably deal with it.

Then we, as a community, stood, placed our hats over our hearts and observed a moment of silence to reflect on the people who defend our freedom abroad and keep our community safe. Then the band played the national anthem while our local Boy Scout troop raised the flag to the top of the mast.

And then our team, our marching band, and our cheerleaders did their thing. They showed us what hours of training, practice, and dedication have enabled them to do. Our kids, the future of our community, received our encouragement, our elation at their successes and probably a hint of our disappointment when things went worse than we hoped. But mostly we allowed them to participate in the maintenance of our traditions, our community. 

So what looks like a performance is actually something much larger and more important. This is how small town high school football games in The South become gathering of the community with a common sense of purpose built on the dreams of our kids.

This is how torches are passed. 

Renaissance

Let's address something that's bugging me. 

Confessional time. I don't like Rush Limbaugh. I don't like Sean Hannity. I really don't like Ann Coulter. 

This isn't completely new. I liked all three of these folks and their programs not all that long ago. But I've stretched out some. I've investigated my beliefs. I've struggled with my convictions and I've landed quite comfortably in a new political camp. 

I'm a Conservative.

That doesn't sound right, does it? A Conservative that doesn't like that trio? Yep. That's because I'm finding my conservative roots sunk into the old guard of Conservatism. And it's time Conservatism changed...back. 

It hasn't been all that many years since William F. Buckley Jr. represented more intellectual power than all the liberal minds of his day. All of them combined couldn't tote Buckley's briefcase. And that was just Buckley. That's not Russell Kirk, Wendell Berry, and many others.

And now, the public voices of Conservatism are more like clowns. Loud, in your face and hard to take seriously. They say brash things and push the envelope of decency and leave me wondering exactly what it is we are trying to conserve. 

Conservatism is about conserving our traditions, our culture, arts, architecture, history, sciences.It's an intellectual philosophy that is based in truth. Its principles have been tried and they work. Its adherents understand the principles and are capable of thinking for themselves. They're no one's ditto head.

Environmental policy - real environmental policy that conserves our planet while respecting private property and maintaining a sustainable economy is a Conservative principle. Community is a conservative value. Preserving our monuments, our downtown districts, our significant places, and our stories are all Conservative principles. Understanding who we are, where we came from and why we are here, while holding those connections up high for younger generations to recognize are all Conservative principles.

Yelling at Alan Colmes on TV for a solid hour is not a Conservative principle. Saying something just for the sake of shock value is not a Conservative principle. Being married 47 times and still fighting for the sanctity of marriage is not a Conservative principle. 

You can watch what you want to and listen to what you want to. But you'll get more out of a 20 minute archived Firing Line segment on YouTube than you will a month and a half of non-stop Limbaugh.

And from there, it only gets better. I'll have you tying your own bow tie in no time.