In today’s world, farming is still at the forefront of the American spirt. You’ve always been taught, whether it be from your parents or from your Sunday morning preacher that lives down the road, that “you will enjoy the fruits of your labor,” or that “hard work pays off.” To you, this meant keeping up with responsibilities throughout the family farm and doing your part in keeping the family above water. It didn’t matter if you farmed 4,000 acres of corn or if you had a herd of 10 cows; you had duties. In high school, you didn’t carry a back pack; you folded your papers and put them in your wallet. The only life you knew was going to school for eight hours, making a quick pit stop at the local mini-mart for a delicious pizza roll, then heading straight home; there was work to be done. At this point, you knew all the seasons and you knew the weather conditions for each day and you knew what needed to be planted or taken care of accordingly. You had it all figured out.
Throughout your junior and senior year of high school, you played around with the thought of college, but even more you thought of running this corn planter on a hot day inside of an air conditioned cab. Your parents didn’t go to college. Your dad or grandpa worked his finger to the bone to have the land and operation he does now, and as his son or grandson, you admire that. You want to be just like him.
So when graduation comes, you went and took your pictures with the buddies that you’d rev your truck up with at the red lights in town, and then everyone kind of broke off. You would continue to carry on your position around the farm as you did since age 12, but something's different now. Your buddies are gone and you’re stuck here. The thought of college was recurring -- fraternities, sororities and the girls that wear the Simply Southern shirts with the leggings (if that isn’t enough reason to go to college anyway).
Finally, you're going to college, your mother is ecstatic, and your dad is going to lose his best buddy and favorite hand so he’s not sure how to feel about it, but he can’t be mad... his son is going to college.
Fast forward two or three months, and it’s time to move in. Your parents load up the car and off you go! College awaits. Little did you know, you would not drive another tractor for a year. You’re settled in, mom is crying, dad os wanting to go out to eat and your favorite grandma is calling you to tell you she will buy you all the clothes you need or anything else that you find yourself without (grandparents are a blessing in college). After all the water works and firm handshakes, they leave and it’s just you.
Every day in high school, you woke up at 7 a.m. to be at school by 8 a.m. This will prove to be extremely hard to do now, so beware! You walk to class and realize you have never seen more beautiful girls or so much asphalt as you do now, and you’re really not quite sure how to take it all in. You walk all around campus staring at all of these angels just to realize you’re getting some looks back -- not because of your farmers tan but because you keep staring. You also find out very quickly that girls are way more fond of fraternity boys than farm boys. You’ve always told yourself that you never wanted to be one, but people evolve and you became one. You found a fraternity that you liked, slapped some letters on your truck and took pledge semester head on. It sucked, it really sucked. Pledge this and pledge that, you’re driving tonight pledge and so on and so forth. But after that, it was your turn.
As the first semester passes, another comes and starts in January. Oh, another thing, you don’t like the cold and never have. You walk to class in the freezing air, lips chapped, and then the class room is like 150 degrees and you have to shed all of your clothing. Everyone wonders why you have so many jackets. If they knew the winters you went through trying to save that bottle calf from dying, then they wouldn’t be wondering about your jackets.
As winter subsides, spring goes into effect and you love it. You know your way around, you’re not a pledge, you have your flings every week, and summer is coming on and you can feel it. But one thing has spoiled you -- you haven’t worked in like six months. Not one time has your dad called you and rung your head for being late. You like this and find it pleasant. You like the college life. You like the girls and the friends and the keg stands, but your empty. You have a void that only the sound of a tractor and the sight of cows grazing can fill.
Your first year of college is coming to an end and you don’t know how to handle it, so you go home and realize the answer was there all along. You and your dad hug and your mom fixes the best supper she ever has and you realize something. In this world, no matter the environment, no matter if you love college and all its questionable but great fun, you know one thing is for sure. You can take the boy out of the country, but you can never take the country out of the boy.
