FARM REPORT

We hosted a lovely pasta night this week. Workers from neighboring farms in our area came over for food and conversation. It was a lovely night. The conversation was dominated by the dreaded economy. We agreed we all need golden parachutes and bailout money. Reality set in and we shared our views on the President’s economic policies. All of our neighbors, even those from the most prosperous farms are on board with the saving, planning and conserving philosophy that the first family is bringing to the nation.

Budgeting is now the in way to live, think, and behave. One farm has frozen all of its credit cards in huge blocks of ice. They couldn’t bear to cut them up. Even the littlest farm hands are into the budgeting way of life. It’s become chic. One of our neighbors suggested that we read Total Money Makeover by Dave Ramsey. Excerpts were shared over walnut cake and apple pie and all farms have decided to read this book.

To stem the rising economic tide our farm has begun an aggressive marketing strategy. We decided we needed to talk directly to some new feet. Next week will be all about writing the copy for a new radio show.

Workers from our farm were invited to share a great vacation. We were sadly disappointed when plans were abruptly cancelled. We are still crying in our soup about the loss of vacation time. Life can be stressful slinging feet.

FARM REPORT - POST INAUGURAL EDITION

In the midst of moving the base of farm operations Farm Workers received the opportunity of a lifetime, an invitation to attend the inauguration of the 44th President of the United States. After much discussion about schedules and finances we decided that we could not pass up the opportunity, and then the real challenge began. We needed to secure accommodations, we had to get travel plans to get to the big event.
Workers called in colleagues and found rooms at the world famous Diva Den located just steps from the capitol. Farm workers were ecstatic at the sudden opportunity. The Diva Den was booked for our dream inaugural weekend. Even though the workers at the Diva Den were busy putting the finishing touches on inaugural ball gowns they pushed fabric swatches to one side and made room for our workers. An opportunity for rail tickets to the big event popped up and workers snapped them up, deciding to worry about how to get back to the farm later.
When we got off the train in the Capitol the atmosphere was electric. People were smiling and talking and laughing with total strangers. The entire city seemed as if it had landed at a long awaited immense family reunion. We all knew each other and smiled and nodded as we passed each other, we each shared the same favorite relative who was being honored. We were all holding the bible for him.
Workers attended a few parties in a city that was ablaze with parties. Homes were decorated in tiny red white and blue lights and flags. Pictures of the President were mounted in every window. Ben’s Chili Bowl had folks ten deep at the counter and lined up around the corner and down the ally. Chili dogs are the new national snack since the President stopped by for one. People were dancing on the street corners and eating crab cakes at Busboys and Poets on 15th and K.
The finest legal minds from Howard University celebrated by toasting every father, mother, grandmother, and grandfather, every nannie and pop-pop upon whose shoulders the President now stands and they debated long into the night mirroring the great discussions and debates that had made this night possible.
There were elegant balls serving champagne and caviar and house parties serving rabbit stew and gumbo. More stories and tales then workers will ever remember each one more meaningful than the one that came before it. Even though we were crushed against each other, cold and shivering, praising our President with gloved hands; millions of ears leaned on his every word. It was a moment felt through our collective ages down to the first naked foot that touched these shores. Everywhere, everything stopped and the world turned to hear him. All eyes, all hearts are fixed on the 44th President. He has changed everything in the blink of an eye.
Workers watched in wonder as he surveyed his opportunities, his head steady and his mouth set and determined. It has all changed. We were there, the color was love.





Farm workers wish to thank the following for thier contribution to our incredible Capitol Experience....Effe a fabulous friend and Veronica host of the Diva Den;Dr. D, Rick and Theresa Ellis for thier outstanding hospitality, Lauren and John Graham for being wonderful as always, the Honorable Charles Rangle for the best view in town! Of course much love and honor to The President of the United States.

FARM REPORT

Renovations and additions are now complete, the farm is up and running smoothly. It was hard work. Workers spent many hours hauling equipment to the new location but thankfully we are all settled and back to our chores. We have added new services to our already extensive menu and that brought us tons of new visitors and of course new tales.
To welcome our workers to the neighborhood we were invited to a party. The neighbors are eccentric to say the least. Tales were told of one who had his house renovated into an exact replica of TGI Fridays. We wonder what a birthday party must be like in those digs. Would waiters appear and sing that hokey birthday song? Now, the tale of two dads. These guys were so involved comparing new high end SUV's and talking on slick crackberries they forgot their real mission was to take the kids to Chuckie Cheese. Poor chillin got left on the curb! The Eagles won the football game, we know this because our workers got to see it at the party. A wall sized HD projection screen. We are dismayed to report that certain sportscasters need to trim their nose hairs.
Our quote of the week "the higher you go up the flagpole the more your ass shows."

Workers are reading Water for Elephants by Sara Gruen and praying for tickets to the inauguration. Our color this week..."Marooned".

CHANGE

Neat hot green Mississippi fields
Planted and plowed by the spirits of my heart
Backs bent to their labor
No longer are they flesh and form
Yet they are tangible to me
They brought the green sea to life

Remanded here as part of the peculiar institution
In this, the land of the almost free
Year upon year their generations could not wander
They had lost the meaning of that word
Remembrance of their language meant death
Some how those sweat soaked bodies knew they must survive

The green sea sprouts from a thick fluid vascular bed of memories
A field wet with the technology of today as it silently irrigates
The bones of the ancestors as they sink deeper into the depth of the green sea
They lay in a scarred battlefield with no markers or flags of remembrance
Nothing to shout their names no pictures of their faces
Here in this Mississippi field they rest
Chosen to be there as I am chosen to be here

The green sea parts to expose them for an instant
They need to see what profound change their lives inspired
They can walk unafraid and have their say in the front room of the big house
Children….we have realized our dream
We speak and now they listen
Like lions we roar
We read
We write
We laugh loudly and love without fear

They marked us down as one third of a human being
Branded and numbered
Look at us now sweet spirits
Rise up and look at your children
It is our voice chosen to lead the realignment of mankind
Open your eyes once again with pride and fulfillment at your strength
From the lands of our ancestors we have arrived to part the green sea
Look at who we are now
We have changed everything

Farm Report

It has been a slow week on the farm. Workers have been lazy lima beans all week!
Even though we were not shopping and cooking and having tons of company we have all enjoyed our holidays immensely. We are comfortable with the way things are going and are looking forward to our new President being inaugurated on January 20th, so we hope that you will enjoy our interpretation of why the workers on the foot farm and the rest of world is so excited about the the 44th resident of the White House!

FARM REPORT

We here on the foot farm have been able to expand operations to new and ever greater levels. One of our first new visitors flew in from LA just to see us. She was quite special and carried a cell phone covered in clear Swavorski Crystals with her initials in pink. So very LA don’t you think? Our discussions this week were very much about cultural differences in families. Intermarriage between distinctly different cultures is becoming more popular. In the past we have been aware of love and marriage in this country between African-Americans and Whites, but let us consider Americans and Colombians, Muslims and Christians, Indians and Pakistanis. The differences are immense and become relevant when considering raising children and dealing with family members. Something as simple as asking “what’s for dinner?”, can become a source of tension.
Holidays and birthdays may be celebrated in different ways. Love becomes complex when it crosses some sort of line. In our opinion love is something we need to have in order to breath. No matter what the difficulties may be in realizing that love. To be held, to be kissed, and to be touched by another person who makes one feel complete; that is necessary. One of our most loyal visitors has always said…. it’s your time on earth…
So not matter where you find love, embrace it. Happy Holidays…..our color is Rudolph’s Red Nose.

FARM REPORT

This intriguing tale was told by a visitor from Vibe Magazine; a commentary on the music industry. Remember when every city had at least one legendary record store? In New York City, Colony and Tower Records were places artists stopped and fans hung out. Music was touchable and collectable. Even CD’s didn’t really put a damper on the fact that we collected our favorite music. Now the industry is almost unrecognizable; every thing is downloadable.
Musical genres have a muddy line through them. Distinctions between Jazz, R&B,Pop and Hip hop have faded in the downpour of economics. Can magazines like Vibe survive to cover Hip Hop when the NY times is doing it mainstream? As our visitor from Vibe magazine said…Thank God for Lil Wayne or we would have really gone under…
Artists are utilizing the internet to exist in venues where they have freedom to write, post, and perform the art of their lives. They welcome thier fans downloading thier creations.
Gangster rappers are now called moguls. They have clothing lines, labels of high end brandy, and reality shows on how to be good parents. We farmworkers are certainly not haters, it’s the American dream come true.
We wait patiently for the newness of artists still developing a craft through experience and practice. Those who are “in the shed” as we write this, not standing in line for a national talent contest, but learning to read music, play music, and write actual words; practicing and living thier art.
The color …..I Said Red