The Land of Jarvis' Origin

It’s hard to believe that Jarvis and the boyz back home came from such a teeny town deep in the heart of corn country. As you drive into Southwest Minnesota, maize and soybean fields stretch across the countryside as far as the eye can see. Tractors operated by flannel wearing farmers cruise along side the road through the grassy ditches where they can inspect their neighbor’s crop. There are farming devices which appear as foreign as space ships and robots in these city eyes, and when you haven’t grown up in farmland, things like pastures filled with rolled spools of hay, or old outhouses, seem strangely remarkable. The region is studded with pocket-sized towns, some with single digit population numbers, other hubs boasting nearly two thousand residents. Canby has around eighteen hundred.

I have never spent time in a place like Canby, and the first few times I visited I was in complete culture shock – even now, from time to time, I’m taken aback by the traditional conservative ways of the regions inhabitants. I’m reminded each time we pass an anti-abortion sign in one of the fields on the side of the county road. It took me a while to get past the whole “everybody knows everybody” business here, but once I got to know everybody a bit too, I start to feel more comfortable when we visit – less of a dark skinned outsider, and more like “Josh’s wife”. Actually, there are still times when I walk into Parrot Bay or the VFW and feel as though the juke box stops and all the men at the bar turn to look at me at once. It’s quite comical actually. Gets funnier the more I drink.

The small village that is Canby is quiet, and because there aren’t many options for recreational opportunities (the theater is only open on the weekends, and one never knows when the bowling alley might decide to open) we spend the majority of our time out of the house “road-tripping” around the countryside. Its autumn here and the colors are turning from green to creepy Halloween. There is still a fair amount of corn in the fields, and from what I’ve grasped from the local disappointment, “…that corn is ready to come down, but all this gosh darn rain…” I’m starting to pick up on more and more of the local lingo, but I still refuse to call lunch dinner and dinner supper. Sticking to my guns on that one.

We went to the dirt track races in Madison last weekend, and I almost got decapitated by the axel of a flipping car. A slight exaggeration of course, but I think it really was a close call. Super gnarly wreck. I think Jarvis is more and more impressed with my knowledge of the races each time we go, and I can see a twinkle in his Bush Light filled eyes when I floss some of my newfound facts. The track was at the fair grounds, so once again this summer we visited a county fair and I ate yet another corn dog. I also had my first go at an order of cheese curds and fell strait into fried cheese heaven – got me thinking, maybe there is a God after all. Yup, we had some good times in Madison, and got our picture taken with then famous lutefisk to prove it.

Added highlights of my Canby escapade are the thrift stores here, believe it or not. I have visited Prairie Five twice, and today made a handful of new purchases at Delightful Treasures, the newest second hand store in town. I pretty much had to buy a whole new wardrobe because all my brilliant ass decided to pack for the summer was daisy dukes and swimsuits. There are some real scores hidden in those thrift store racks, and these are real thrift store prices (three dollar dresses etc.) not no San Francisco prices in there. Speaking of price perks, there is nothing like going to one of the small dives in town and being able to order a cheeseburger and a beer for six bucks. I keep telling Jarvis that I can’t believe you can actually get a bar BLT for three seventy-five. I just got a dinner sized order of spaghetti and meatballs from the local pizza joint for five bucks. At this rate, I would totally be a fat ass if I lived here for any lengthy amount of time.

It’s really nice to be here in Minnesooooota with the Meads. Dad and Bernie are always so hospitable, and being part of the family is quite the privilege. Actually, being a part of all the crew’s families here is a privilege. We have been so lucky to have dinner with the Rhymers and the Engesmoes and I feel like I have parents all over this bitch. It’s pretty awesome to see all the crew folks, but it really makes me hungry for the crew kids back home.

We are headed to Worthington, Minnesota this weekend for the nuptials of some good friends, and it will be the first wedding I’ve ever stood in, aside from my own a few months ago, of course (our three month anniversary is approaching this weekend, actually!!) After the marriage celebration we will head back to cozy Canby to grab our buckets of shit and regroup before our pilgrimage back West. When we settle down into a place for this amount of time, it almost feels like we’re not on a road trip anymore …. I’m ready to get back into our mobile house and tack some more miles on the silver bullet.