The following is a true story. The names were changed to protect… er… well…men everywhere.
Bob and Kelli remind me a lot of my wife and me some 30 years ago. They both have good jobs in town, two young sons, a small acreage with some cattle, and dreams of being full-time farmers – someday.
Bob called me from the machinery dealership last week. “I’m kickin’ the tires on a new tractor,” he began. “Boy, they sure are proud of them, aren’t they?”
I tried to console him by agreeing that, yes, all farm equipment just keeps going up in price and they make high-priced cattle seem relatively cheap by comparison. “I thought your tractor was still in pretty good shape.”
“It is,” Bob admitted, “but I’ve been absolutely miserable feeding hay with it this winter.”
“Yeah, those open-deck tractors may be cheaper when you buy them, but a cab with all the creature-comforts sure is nice on those frigid mornings as well as those sultry afternoons.”
I quickly remembered the many times I had nearly been frostbitten; the sweltering days that had brought me so close to crippling dehydration and all, on an old, basic tractor with which I started my farming career. “I take it you’re looking at one with a cab?”
“Yep.”
Later in the week, Bob called again, relating that he had finally settled on a model and was only a few hundred dollars away from reaching an agreement with the implement dealer. “Now,” he sighed, “all I need to do is convince Kelli that a tractor with a cab, AC, heat and a stereo system is a necessity.”
“Okay, I’m going to tell you how to sell your wife on this new investment, but this is just between us men. Understood?” Bob agreed.
I began, “I, too, had felt the need to trade up to a larger tractor back in the day. I secretly wanted a cab tractor, but I was fearful that Judy would think it was too extravagant, especially when I was trying to make my farming operation pay for itself, so I devised a plan. I found a good used tractor with an open deck and told her that I thought the deal was good, but that I was worried that the deck wasn’t quite big enough to safely strap on the car seat for my oldest son to ride along. As expected, she totally flipped-out and told me there was no way that was happening. However, I calmed her down, assuring her that I had grown up riding on a tractor with my own father and that it was just something farm kids did. Then, I went for the equivalent of Olympic gold by adding that I had only fallen off dad’s tractor twice, with neither injury being that serious. Judy immediately informed me that I was absolutely not buying a cabless tractor and said that if I needed a tractor, it would have to have a cab or I could just forget it.”
I then spoke more firmly to Bob, “As sweet a woman as your wife is, she doesn’t give a rat’s hind-end whether you sweat 10 gallons of perspiration or it freezes into 3-foot icicles, as long as her babies are safe. You got it?”
Bob loves his new cab tractor.
