Adrian

Recently I joined a marketing group called BNI. We meet weekly and set aside a few minutes every week to mingle and talk informally about our businesses. During the mingle time last week I noticed one of the gentlemen was wearing a large class ring with the letter “A” on it. A few years ago I would have had a lot of judgments about a 40 something year old wearing a school ring. However, I have done a lot of work to rid myself of prejudices --- including an old and unwarranted bias against jocks, so this time, it was just something I noticed.

Yesterday, this gentleman and I met for a "One-to-One" to learn about each other’s businesses so that we can give better referrals.

He walked with a slight limp which I assumed came from a football injury. He shared that he had played football at Adrian College. But contrary to my presumption, the leg injury occurred later. About 13 years ago he was involved in a serious motorcycle accident and ended up in a ditch with his femur sticking out into the air. Somehow he mustered up the strength to crawl out of the ditch; and as life would have it, a World War II veteran was passing by and rushed to his aid. Together they tied off the leg to prevent more blood loss. The veteran said he had seen many people in the war with lesser injuries who did not survive.

As I listened to this story it occurred to me that the football training of his youth had saved his life. I now saw the class ring in a new light, as an affirmation of life itself. I pointed to the letter “A” on his finger and said "This ring saved your life." (Turns out the word Adrian means "strong" in several languages.)

Today on the drive up north Barnaby and I listen to Friday Night Lives, an NPR series on high school football for the 2009 season. I am reminded of my football player friend and am grateful to all those football coaches and players out there who show us how to survive and persevere.

Redneck

Last night for Barnaby’s Birthday Dinner we sat down to a table of fresh fish caught by his brother, fresh arugula from his mother’s garden and the wonderful pie made from the neighbor’s rhubarb.

Barnaby wanted his birthday meal to be as homegrown as possible --- made from the efforts at the FryFarm in Michigan and the family cabin on Gull Lake in Minnesota.

I could not believe that I had anything to do with the tasty salad we were eating. Barnaby’s mother reassured me that this was the very same arugula we planted a few weeks ago.

When I was working in the garden, with the sun on my neck, I began contemplating the term redneck. Redneck was a word I used to describe a person from the country, like a hick. It was intended as a put-down to describe someone who I thought didn’t know anything.

But time has a way of changing perceptions. After living in California for the last 9 years I have grown to appreciate local and slow food. California also gave me the chance to work with farm laborers and their families and introduced me to a new State Holiday.

Now I find the term redneck endearing. A word of high praise for all who are involved in our food production. To me, redneck now conveys a sense of self-sufficiency a la Emerson and Thoreau.

Apparently my “new view” is part of a growing trend (as reported in the book Animal, Vegetable, Miracle). But when I sit in the hot-tub at the Chelsea Wellness Center and listen to the women talk, this is the way they have been eating all along --- meats from their own animals, vegetables from their gardens, canning their produce for the winter, etc. They don’t buy much from the store and they don’t need a book to teach them about it since it is something they already know. And I thought they didn't know anything.