Flossie or the Tractor?

| May/June 1986

5420 Netherlands Avenue, Apt. B-31 Bronx, NY 10471

Well, Bud Jr. certainly got my money's worth out of his college education. What he does mostly is spout sixty-dollar words he picked up from those silk-tie friends of his and tell me how I should modernize the farm like his'n. 'Modernize myself right into bankruptcy like your high-roller pals' is what I always say to that, which shuts him up awhile.

Me, I'm getting on, but I keep my end up just fine. Can't say the same for old Flossie. She's not as young as she used to be, and she just can't pull the plow the way she could back when. Used to was she could start off half an hour after the rooster crowed and go till noon without stopping, and then put on the feedbag and then go on past sunset without hardly a whimper. But lately it got so I had to think about putting the old girl out to pasture.

Me and Flossie been together a lot of years, so at first it like to broke my heart to think about it, and we just kept on keeping on. But every chance he got, Bud Jr. kept whining I ought to at least get into the 19th century even if I didn't believe in the 20th, and the least I could do if I didn't want to buy one of them newfangled computers to count the cornstalks was get me a air-conditioned tractor like his'n. Me, what I always says is, if you have to have an air-conditioned tractor, then the next thing you know you'll want a colored TV.

But Bud Jr. takes after his pop in a couple of ways, and I guess I mentioned this and that problem with Flossie once too often because the next thing I know, he traipses in the front door with this little suitcase. He says I been shilly-shallying long enough (except he used some sixty-five dollar word) and with the help of this here computer I'll make my decision once and for all. He plugs her in and fires her up and plunks me down in front of this little green Martian TV.

This isn't even Greek to me, but Bud Jr. learnt all about this stuff in some school or someplace. He says this is called Light Year, which only reminds me of the drought of '37. 'It is a decision-making system,' says he.


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