Dear Range Rover Driver,
Thank you for frantically waving your hands at me and banging your steering wheel while we waited at the red light that clearly stated NO TURN ON RED. I also appreciated you tailgating me while simultaneously texting on your cell phone and trying to shove a hamburger in your mouth. You were probably late for something very important, like your Botox appointment or a session with your psychic.
I know life here probably moves a little too slow for you and it’s much different from your fast-paced city life filled with selfies, lip gloss re-application and gum chewing while constantly using the word “literally” in the wrong context.
So, lets get a few things straight…
Around here, we have dirt roads. If you drive your Range Rover on them, it’s going to get dusty. We aren’t totally uncivilized, and you will find a car wash in town. However, a bunch of uniformed attendants are not going to magically appear and wash your vehicle. You will have to get out and operate the hose (it’s the long thingy with the handle that says hose).
Please realize that the entire restaurant does not want to hear your cell phone conversation regarding Kim Kardashian’s butt, how much your hair extensions cost and your inability to get a Triple Venti Soy No Foam Latte in our town.
Sometimes we have to drive our tractors on the road. However, honking and swerving and yelling at the tractor driver will get you nowhere and just may cause an accidental release of manure onto the hood of your Range Rover.
We actually use our pickup trucks and SUVs to haul things like a roto-tillers, hay bales and small farm animals. If you don’t want anything to fly out and hit your windshield, maybe you shouldn’t drive so close to our tailgates.
Don’t make fun of the man who wears high-waters and a knit cap all summer long. He graduated from an Ivy League college and has enough money to buy a football field full of Range Rovers and still have enough left over to fund a small country.
Before you judge us by our work clothes and dirty boots, remember this… without farmers, there is no food.
Cows and horses and pigs and goats and chickens all poop… and it smells. If it bothers you, turn your Range Rover around and go back the way you came.
In the country, one inch of snow does not shut down the entire town. And even though you call us rednecks, hillbillies and hicks, we will be the ones who pull your Range Rover out of the ditch when you skid off the road during a blizzard (or as most of us around here call it – flurries).
The Farmer in the Dell’s Wife