Farmer Dave

In June of 1964, I decided to drop out of the Brooklyn Polytech Aeronautical Engineering program and buy a farm in Wisconsin. A pig and sheep farm, out where the wind blows free, where every farmer has at least one daughter - like them farm girls what I'd seen in movies, and where life ain't nothin more 'n endless chores and simple choices.

Six pigs an' six sheeps I bought, and some chickens too, an' a rusted truck, two shovels an' a bucket for haulin' pig shit out to pasture, and put a sign out by the fence "Dave's Pigs and Sheep".

Sheriff come by to visit, then the preacher and then the lady from the Lady's Committee, and they pretty much set me straight about how things's done out here.

So nex' day I bought m'self a M16, a used AK-47 (fer backup) and a 9mm Glock (24 round clip & water-cooled barrel) and signed up with the local militia club that's a bunch of farmers and townfolks who load up and practice wargames on the weekends, just in case them damn folks in Washington take a mind to attackin' Wisconsin. Practice with real bullets mind you, so's most often someone gets hisself wounded ('cept for Buford what got hisself actual shot dead and buried out there, and we tol' his kin he fell and drown in the river and got washed away so there weren't no body t' bring home t' his family). Was the sheriff that shot Buford, and some said it had t' do with the sheriff's wife once bein' Buford's wife an' she bein' lonesome nowadays for Buford's fun lovin' ways an' tired of the sheriff's stiff neck. But anyways what's done's done, I say, when I'm speakin' 'bout it.

Been near 50 years now of me pig and sheep farmin', and I seen lots o' pigs, sheeps, sheriffs, an' guys like Buford come an' go (tho' not every one of 'ems been shot by the sheriff). I don't miss the city none, as we got a movie house and two diners (one's got a pinball game too ! ) an' some saloons back in town, an' Miss Emily stays over some weekends an' reads me the Bible 'til I fall asleep else we play the preacher & farmgirl game that I taught her.

Almost forgot - I did get m'self shot once. Actual 12 times since it was a round o' buckshot what hit me, but as I was wearin' them pigfarm overalls and the shot was a only half load o' powder, I weren't killt, tho' I made out bein' hurt bad so's Miss Emily would stay a whole week carin' for me and puttin' in her best efforts to upliftin' my spirits.

Yep, near 50 years now. Sometimes I do wonder 'bout my life. I wonder sometimes if pig 'n' sheep farmin' an' playin' wargames ain't just as dirty and dumb a life as anybody else's life.




page written by Dave Leo