Eyeglasses

The comedian Steven Wright once said, “I had some eyeglasses. I was walking down the street when suddenly the prescription ran out.”

My version, not so funny: I was making my way through the woods up the hill, looking for a missing cow (don’t ask), when I brushed against a branch that knocked my glasses off my face. After fifteen minutes of meticulously sifting through the underbrush I gave up looking, thinking that after seven years of careless treatment it was time to replace them anyway (the cheap frames were now coming unscrewed several times a day). And eyeglasses are gloriously inexpensive online.

I looked around for my prescription but couldn’t find it. I called the optometrist to get a copy, but the receptionist wouldn’t give it to me—it was seven years ago, and in Kentucky eyeglass prescriptions expire after one year. No matter that the prescription hasn’t changed in basically forever. Kentucky optometrists think it is in your best interest to be examined yearly (not to mention their own), and this is how they arrange for that.

Even if I had found a copy of the seven-year-old prescription, it wouldn’t have mattered. Kentucky eyeglass shops will not fill a prescription that is more than one year old.

This is not a matter of state law; just the opposite. If Kentucky optometrists had their way in the matter, they would not give a patient their prescription at all. They didn’t used to, until a federal law required them to do so. Now they will give you one, but with a one-year expiration date. And eyeglass shops refuse to fill expired prescriptions, not because of the law but as a professional courtesy.

So I’ll be getting my eyes examined again, but hopefully for the last time. Kentucky eyeglass shops will not fill expired prescriptions, but online shops have no such scruples.

Leaving the farm

In early March we accepted a contract on our farm here in Pellyton, and last Monday we closed the deal. The Konvalin family will be taking possession soon, and Tony Konvalin has promised to chronicle the transition on his weblog.

We’ve had seven good and enjoyable years here. Farm life has shaped our thinking and our characters in important ways, and we have no regrets about the experiment. But we’ve reached a point where staying in this very rural area would work against us as a family. We were unable to create a self-contained family economy, and opportunities to work off the farm around here are limited. As our three oldest become young adults, we realized that they would likely have to move at least 100 miles away to start lives of their own.

Instead, we decided to move the family closer to those opportunities. We’ll be in Frankfort, which is not only the capital of Kentucky but a delightfully small town of 25,000. Aside from the potential for work in Frankfort, Lexington is 30 miles east, Louisville is 60 miles west, and Cincinnati is 90 miles north.

Our new house is five minutes from downtown, in an older suburban neighborhood with an acre of backyard. It was custom built in 1950 by the previous owner, who recently died two months short of her 101st birthday.

There’s plenty I could write about what we’ve learned from our time on the farm, but it will have to wait—at the moment writing is far down my list of priorities. I’d like for that to change soon, but I can’t predict when it might happen. In the meantime, rest assured that our life continues to be richer, fuller, and more blessed than we have any reason to expect.

Running trucks on wood

Wayne Keith has figured out how to run trucks on wood rather than gasoline. Chris has been helping him develop his informational website driveonwood.com, and on Monday he’ll be taking his truck down to Wayne’s place in Alabama—driving down on gasoline, but hopefully driving back on wood!

Mother Earth News has just published a very nice article about Wayne and his woodgas projects. Check it out.

What I Been Working For

The musical inspiration for this song is the old-time tune “Sail Away Ladies”, also called “Sally Ann”. Here’s the performance that got me thinking about that.

 

My dad was always short of luck
Never had much growing up
F-100 pickup truck was all we could afford
I started work and never stopped
Climbed the ladder, reached the top
Loaded up my credit card as part of my reward

     I worked real hard to get this far
     Money, house, big fine car
     But no one stays up late enough to meet me at the door
     I wish that I could slow it down
     Take it easy, turn around
     Learn to do without the things that I been working for

My obligations grew and grew
Wife and kids, house and school
The lifestyle we’re accustomed to ain’t easy to maintain
Nights and weekends office bound
Work myself into the ground
I’d like to stop but every month the bills come due again
   
I think my daddy had it right
No sense working day and night
Just to buy a bunch of stuff you don’t need anyway
That pickup took us everywhere
Had food to eat, clothes to wear
Always had enough to share with folks who couldn’t pay

I Heard it in a Song

This is my current favorite. For months I had the fragment “I never lived the kind of life I like to sing about,” but didn’t know what to do with it. I woke up about a week ago with most of the rest of it.

I never worked a farm or been down in the hole
Never rode the rails or heard a lonesome whistle blow
Things are different now, those times are long gone
But I know what life was like back then cause I heard it in a song

     I heard it in a song, and it means so much to me
     The old songs can touch my heart and set my spirit free
     When they sing about the old days, I start to hum along
     I know life was good back then cause I heard it in a song

They worked real hard ‘til the day came to an end
Spent evenings on the porch with family and friends
Went to church on Sunday, they all knew right from wrong
I know all these things are true cause I heard it in a song

I never lived the kind of life I like to sing about
I spend my days behind the wheel on this delivery route
But the radio is playing and my heart is beating strong
I dream about the good life cause I heard it in a song

I Should Not Have Turned and Walked Away

This is by far the darkest song I’ve written. I think it turned out well, but I don’t know yet whether it will stay in the repertoire. The melody was based on the Old School Baptist song “When Sorrows Encompass Me Round”, but has drifted quite far from it.

I should not have turned and walked away
When they blamed my friend instead of me
We both knew the trouble our little joke could bring
But I didn’t want them thinking I could do such a thing
So I turned and walked away

     I should not have turned and walked away
     I should not have turned and walked away
     But to do the right thing would have cost me my pride
     So I turned and walked away

I should not have turned and walked away
When I saw the coach hurt that little boy
The both of them knew that I’d seen what he’d done
But it would have cut short the career I’d just begun
So I turned and walked away

     I should not have turned and walked away
     I should not have turned and walked away
     But to do the right thing might would cost me my dreams
     So I turned and walked away

I should not have turned and walked away
When I saw the truck hit that little girl
She might not have died if I’d taken the time
But when you save a life you put your own life on the line
So I turned and walked away

     I should not have turned and walked away
     I should not have turned and walked away
     But to do the right thing would have cost me my life
     So I turned and walked away

Have Mercy on the Working Man

This song is more calculated than most of those I’ve written. The structure is deliberately strange. I don’t know if it will end up working. I’ve spent way more time than usual tweaking the words, and am still not especially happy with the words. This is the first song I’ve written with Chris; he provided the melody.

I went to see the doctor for the pain in my chest
Temperature rising, feeling distressed
Tossing and turning, can’t find my rest

Doc said I’d be glad to set you straight
But your last few payments have been a little late
If you can’t pay cash, you’ll just have to wait

     Have mercy on the working man, trying to find a way
     To live his life the best he can and work another day

I know my payments have fallen behind
But times are tough, my income has declined
Please have mercy, ease my worried mind

Doc said I’m sorry, nothing I can do
If you were busted, Uncle Sam would see you through
But while you’re still working, the bills come to you

     Have mercy on the working man, trying to find a way
     To live his life the best he can and work another day

Treadmill I’m walking stretches on and on
Too rich for assistance, too poor to get along
But things will get better once my money is gone

     Have mercy on the working man, trying to find a way
     To live his life the best he can and work another day