Friday is my last day on the farm. I am leaving. Tinker and his new wife are moving in here to pursue their new interest in raising rabbits. That is good since they will be around to take care of The Old Goat’s needs. Dad raised the idea of moving to a nursing home with Tinker. When Tinker asked me what I thought of the idea, I pulled an Iraqi and wished him enshalla since I fought and lost that battle almost two years ago. In lots of ways, I am done here. My job with the sustainable agriculture folks fell apart when I had the heart attack in late July. I could not develop a passion for the organization after that and felt disingenuous taking money from them (even though I have not received any salary since June and no expense reimbursement since last year). Fortunately, I landed a part-time job teaching courses in the Master in Public Administration program at Columbus State University, beginning in January. In addition, I qualify for a Social Security payment beginning next month. My plan is to live in WitchWoman’s basement until I move into an apartment in Columbus in January. She is allowing me to take refuge with her until I get my “stuff” together (as we used to say back in my youth). In lots of ways, I am becoming a ward of the state. I am now firmly a part of the 47%. I have even considered voting for O'Bama since I am now a parasite who lives off the real producers in America. But, even though I am a taker, I am not a fool. Voting for a community organizer who has failed more certainly than I ever envisioned I would have here is unthinkable. Certainly, considering the last 28 months, I consider the return home a failure. In response to Tom Wolfe’s question about coming home, the answer in my case is an unvarnished “no”. So, having answered the question posed by Mr. Wolfe, I am putting a mercifully end to the farming experiement and along with it Welch Super Service. I will miss taking with you. Thanks for reading.
