From an investigation in progress:
Exhibit A: “To Harvest Squash, Click Here,” a introduction by Douglas Quenqua of The New York Times.
Exhibit B: The Official Facebook page. 15.5 million fans. Join now to gain access to the “24×24 Land Expansion.”
Exhibit C: Farmville Freak, the self-proclaimed “#1 Fan Page.”
Exhibit D: This piece from NPR’s Weekend Edition. Here’s an excerpt from Scott Simon’s discussion with Dean Takahashi, a technology blogger:
Scott Simon: Something just occurs to me, this is dime-store psychology, but the number of people who are actually farming in this country is in decline and has been for some time. I wonder if farming has now become as fanciful as Space Invader games for millions of Americans.
Dean Takahashi: Yeah, its a fantasy. Its something they wish they could do but they can no longer do in a big crowded city. People just want to get back to something simpler. It almost reminds me of the organic movement – you know, they’re very interested in where their foods come from these days. And in the same way, here you get to grow your own foods.
Exhibit E: This recent episode of Dr. Phil. Here’s a segment of the transcript:
“I’m very concerned with my mom’s obsession with all of these Facebook games. She’s constantly on the computer, and she neglects all of her responsibilities,” says Teresa’s daughter, Jennifer. “I just feel like she’s too busy for us, because Facebook has taken over who she is.”
“Before I came here, I made sure that none of the crops were going to die,” she replies.
Dr. Phil takes a seat on the stage across from Teresa. “There aren’t really any crops,” he informs her. “That’s just a little image on a screen. They’re not going to die.”
“I know,” she answers.
from The New York Times
offers another take on the urban-rural intersections Ian Halbert discussed with Baucus and Philemon below. Here, Dirk Johnson
spends a Sunday afternoon at Marvin’s Soul Food restaurant on Chicago’s Southside and shares how the cuisine serves to connect the urban reality of these elderly patrons to their rural upbringing:
“We fellowship,” said Gloria Davis, a native of the Mississippi Delta, “and we remember the days.”
These women were part of one of the nation’s most important periods, the Great Migration, the mass trek of blacks going north for jobs and the hope of civil rights. It has been more than a half-century since the peak of migration to Chicago.
The numbers are dwindling among those who can recount the movement that changed the city and America. “We are coming to the end of a chapter,” said Howard Lindsey, a professor of black studies at DePaul University.
Elderly natives of the South like to come to Marvin’s at the corner of Cicero and Polk Street, where the ham hocks, turkey wings and black-eyed peas are some of the best you can find, and where the hospitable ways remind them of country childhoods.
Some people say the Cowboy Poetry Gathering was born in January 1985. Now called the National Cowboy Poetry Gathering, it was decreed thus by the U.S. Senate and all the crown heads of Europe. However, most people just call it “Elko.” When it started, people described it as a parting of the sea, a gathering of tribes, a “Class A” drunk in a long series of various-classed drunks. Some journalists say it’s the most honest and open-hearted festival in America. Ranchers say these few days contain the highest concentration of lies in any one place at any one time. Twenty years ago, Glamour Magazine said it was one of the best ten places in America for a woman to find a real catch. All of this makes a sensible person wonder.
Mr. Canon also explains that such gatherings have taken place in Elko for many decades preceding the week-long celebration he organizes. Yet, in an essay also attached to the above link, he recounts the initial impetus for this current incarnation, and the massive amount of individual and community energy that went into getting the Gathering off the ground. Their work looked to reclaim a segment of their regional culture:
When the idea for the Cowboy Poetry Gathering came up in the late 1970’s the cowboy image was at a low point. Hollywood had pretty much stopped making cowboy movies. Nashville had dropped the western out of country and western. And all sorts of new meaning had been pumped into the word “cowboy.”
Time spent wandering through the Gathering’s store of online sources will surely stand as a testament to the success of this community’s vision–and to a tradition of “cowboy” arts that are still very much alive. I’m particularly interested in the Gathering’s efforts this year to connect western cowboy culture with its related strains in the American Southeast:
For the 26th National Cowboy Poetry Gathering the Western Folklife Center is pleased to present Seminole and “Cracker” cowboys from Florida and swamp cowboys from Louisiana. Cattle ranching is one of Florida’s oldest and most important cultural and occupational activities, beginning when Spanish explorers introduced horses and cattle to the region in the 16th century. Louisiana’s cattle business has flourished since the mid-18th century. In their part of the country they say “anyone can herd cows on dry land!” Our guests will include poets, storytellers, cooks, Creole zydeco musicians, craftspeople and Seminole Indian cowboys.
Among this list is Geno Delafose & French Rockin’ Boogie
, whose latest release has been nominated for a Best Zydeco or Cajun Music Grammy, as well as Nick Spitzer (see the post
regarding Zydeco: Creole Music and Culture in Rural Lousiana
from last week). Let’s hope that some of these performances make their way online in the coming weeks. Until then, those of us who haven’t been lucky enough to attend have a whole host of aural and visual treats to enjoy on the Western Folklife Center