You realize quite a bit secluded on a farm with little or no interaction to the outside world.  The people you meet, the stories you hear, and the things you see tend to change your perspective on what you originally thought life was all about on the East Coast.  As far as we’re concerned… All y’all paper pushin’ Yanks ain’t got shit.  Sure, big business is a very important aspect of our country and it is a powerful driving force.  However, when the going gets rough, and we’re talking really rough, y’all are screwed.  The survivors, well the survivors live out here.  The folks in these small Midwestern communities were born and raised to survive.  They don’t know if the shit will actually ever hit the fan, but if it does they are prepared for it.  I bet those of you in New England haven’t even thought of an evacuation plan, how long you could survive cut off from the outside world, or how long you could hold off zee Germans in the event of a homeland invasion.  It may seem ridiculous, but it is feasible.

Not only could they out-survive us Yankees, but they put us to shame in every which way.  Midwestern country folk make us look like a bunch of pink panty wearin’ pansies.  Let me ask you this Yankees: Have you ever rebuilt an engine suitable for a hot rod to put in a dump truck?  Is shooting something a sure fire way to remedy a headache?  Have you ever wrestled a 400 lb calf into submission?  Do you consider operating a backhoe a hobby rather than a profession?  Do you occasionally wear a fanny pack that conceals a .357 hand gun?  When you and your buddies get together and drink, do you build houses?  Were you ever a recreational bar fighter?  Is your cat a schizophrenic meth-head?  Has the government ever knocked on your front door to tell you that you can’t make dynamite anymore?  Before you can answer, I can already tell you NO.  Pansies.  All in all we respect the upbringing we have received, but being out here has made us realize how useless it really was.

After our pant sizes went up and our weight greatly increased, we’ve discovered another pro to Midwestern living.  THE FOOD IS AMAZING!  Ribs that slide right off of the bone, pulled pork that melts in your mouth, homemade burgers made with ranch-grown beef, killed just this past fall; fresh meats of all kinds have seduced our appetites again, and again, and again.  We’ve had a hard time leaving Oklahoma; our bodies sluggish with cow’s meat.

We would like to send a huge shout out to Ben and Dave from Woody’s Pizza in Joplin, MO. If you are ever in the middle of the country and are looking for a bite to eat, we highly suggest you check out Woody’s on Seventh Street.  The pizza is the best we’ve ever had and the staff is good for some laughs.  Thanks for the “Gary Colemans” guys; we’ll send you some FETA Cheese.

And to our pool partners, Pool Minnow and Hip Ribbit-Ribbit, we pray for those poor bastards who may encounter you at pool halls all across America.  They have another thing coming.  We are greatly honored to have shared a table with you.  From Stiff Stick and Slop Face…down until done.

We’re going to miss the dinner stories about falling out of trees while coon-hunting; burning plastic chairs down by the river; catching baby wild pigs to sell at 25 bucks a pop…. We’re going to miss the country accents where the damn before Yankees is a two syllable word, the Jack Daniels, the barn cats, the chocolate labs, the ATVs, Gators and other heavy machinery; the picnics by the creek, the storms, the dead silence at night save for the crickets, the sweet country air and being in a land where 50:50 aren’t just your chances--it’s a drink.

Not only are they tougher and more dexterous than us in various walks of life, but their Midwestern hospitality is endless. A huge thank you is in order to Aunt Dixie and Uncle Mark for harboring us for so long.  We greatly appreciate everything you have done for us this past week, and we hope we haven’t overstayed our welcome… because we plan on comin’ back real soon.