RUDIMENTS, pt. 1,360
(the ideal is far from random)
There's a very graphic Delphic
Oracle for me : 'Things shall
always be what will may be.'
It's random enough not to mean,
much, but on another 'hand' that's
how it connects to everything,
and they all tie-up together only
years after. Another version could
read, 'You will always be discovering
things', and that probably works
better too.
-
Years ago, I used to read motorcycling
magazines, and a lot of them were
British - all those guys raging on
about their Triumphs and BSA's,
Royald Enfields and Velocette
250 singles. Their big thing was
what they called 'doing the Ton'.
All these years, I've always assumed
it to be 100 miles per hour, a 'ton'
meaning the clean number of 100.
The other day, while driving my
truck, I switched over to kilometers
instead of miles per hour on the
speedometer readout, and when
it got to 100 kilometers I suddenly
realized that THAT was 100
kilometers!! All that time what
these British motorcycle guys
were bragging about was 61 miles
per hour? How dumb had I been?
All this time I'd just assumed
100mph. Talk about discovering
things!
-
If life isn't somehow a lifelong
progression of fixing errors and
wrong assumptions, then I don't
know what is. When I first got to
Columbia Crossroads, and then
to Elmira, as I've already stated,
they were both foreign lands for
me, which was quite fine and part
of the adventure. One of the things
I got interested in, and quickly,
were tractors. I really fell for them
In the most utilitarian fashions,
each of them stood their ground.
About a tractor there's no perfect
ground. They never had an 'ideal'
to b matched with. Perhaps when
they are 'new' they're at their
actual worst - a sort of state of
promise that's not yet materialized.
It's only after a few years of field
toil and tractor 'work' when they
are fully realized for what they are,
or were meant to be. I had tractors
all around me - each one different,
by name and badge, as can be. The
standard and more run of the mill
John Deeres and International
Harvesters, and Fords, well,
they were OK and did their work
well, withstood all sorts of tasks
and weather. IN so many ways,
the brand mirrored the owner. It
was a bit weird - speaking of
which, yes, then there were the
outliers, the brands that tended to
far fewer seen, purchased and
sought. Those were the ones I
liked most. I can still rattle off
the names, connected yet with
reverie, as if it was today : New
Holland, Massey-Ferguson, and
then, farther outside the circle,
Minneapolis-Moline, and Allis
Chalmers. They were great, and
there was an economic pecking
order to it all too, but it mostly
went unspoken in the same way
that differences between Chevrolets
and Imperials or Cadillacs were
never mentioned between owners.
It was all just something I caught
onto by a form of intuition. I once
saw a 1950 Silver King, and it
immediately trounced all the
others in its appeal for me.
-
None of it mattered, and I never
had the coin for one anyway, nor
the need or the place. What it came
down to was 'Spirit.' The world of
tractors, and the world of motorcycles
'doing the ton' both claimed a strong
connection to those things of the
heart , and they claimed followings
of their own - outside of the normal
field of enthusiasm and brand-loyalty.
And that's both how it should be, yes,
and how it goes with everything else.
That was one of the most obvious
points I took from this observation.
A farmer who had his 'Oliver' would
seemingly never turn his back on it,
in the same manner has the garage
mechanic or tinkerer would never
alter his (or her, though I never
actually saw that), for the 'brand'
to which loyalty was given. And,
following my own logic, that was
the way it went - right down the
line - for personal loyalty to the
full range of personal philosophies,
oftentimes politics too, and habitual
attitudes and outlook on everyday
living. No sense in fighting that.
In time I began to see how so much
of that often just turned into a locked
mind or a closed sense of attitude
about the very world we live in -
but, no matter, people got by.
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