For being out in the ass-end of nowhere, cell phone reception was surprisingly good - three bars. Jeremy scowled as he texted his friends. The traditional media guys were bailing because of the scheduling snafu, but all three podcasters and both livestreamers were still coming.
He looked up from his iPhone 5 at the enormous blue pickup that eased to a stop several car lengths up the road from Jeremy's VW. Wide and high, the nearly-new truck had dual wheels in the back and a complicated-looking hitching thing in the bed. It had a red and white lettered logo on the side. Bracing for the first confrontation of the day, Jeremy tapped out GTG and tucked the phone away. His REI vest had an inside cellphone pocket, both vented and padded. He didn't expect things to get rough, but he was glad for the padding.
The truck shut off and a big man climbed out. Boots, jeans and a belt buckle with what was probably a NASCAR logo. His blue golf shirt had the same red-and-white lettering as the truck. Jeremy braced himself, spreading his feet. He wasn't going to be driven off before the protest had even started, and certainly not by some millionaire corporate farmer.
"Good morning! I thought I'd stop and see if you needed some help, but it looks like you're getting ready for an event."
The big man's voice was surprisingly normal. Jeremy had expected... well, there was no reason why a farmer's voice had to be deep and twangy, right? That was stereotyping. Now that he was closer, Jeremy could see that the logo on his shirt spelled out "Kimner Farms".
"Uh... yeah. I'm just waiting for my friends."
"Fair enough. So, what have you got against them?"
"What? I don't understand. I don't have anything against my friends."
"No, I mean what do you have against GMO crops." The big man pointed at Jeremy's sign: HELL NO, GMO, THROW THEM BACK AT MON$ANTO!!"You came all the way out here to a soybean field to protest against them. Mind telling me what you find so objectionable?"
Jeremy stared. There didn't seem to be any rancor or confrontation in the man's voice, just an open question.
"Uh... lots of things."
"Such as?"
Jeremy didn't know what to say. He wasn't the spokesperson for the group, just one of the rank and file. They'd warned him to be ready for the sherrif, for counter-protests, for accusations of trespass. The last thing he'd expected was to have to talk to some farmer and defend something so obvious as why genetically modified crops were bad.
The big man stood, waiting for his answer.
"Look," said Jeremy, "are you the farmer who owns these crops? Because this is public road and I have every right to be here."
"Hey, calm down. No one's questioning your rights. I was just asking why you don't like GMOs. I think just about all these fields around here are planted to modified hybrids, either from Monsanto or maybe Cargill, Land O Lakes, DuPont, you name it. Folks around here seem to like 'em well enough. I guess that means that if you're gonna protest GMOs, this is the place to do it. So... what's up? What's wrong with them?"
"They're bad for the environment. They poison wildlife. They're pure profit for the big corporations." Jeremy said the first things he could think of. He wasn't good at one-on-one confrontations, and the big farmer's composure was rattling him. "They're bad for small farmers. They make people use more chemicals. They... they lead to dependence on the chemical companies and the seed suppliers. They... uh, they contribute to monoculture, which is bad for the environment."
Throughout this recitation, the other man's expression had been one of polite interest. As Jeremy trailed off, he nodded and waited a moment, as though he were inviting Jeremy to continue. It wasn't a rude move, not something that seemed obviously calculated to humiliate, but Jeremy still felt a bit foolish.
"I see. Well, that's a pretty serious list of reasons to dislike GMOs," the man said. "As you might imagine, I take a somewhat different view of things, but I won't spoil your day with them."
His cell phone's chiming interrupted whatever he was about to say next. He excused himself, turned away from Jeremy and took out an iPhone 4S from his back pocket. After a brief conversation, he hung up.
"The rest of your party got lost on the way here. They just stopped up at the main offices on Bartam Rd. to ask directions." He waved his iPhone. "The mapping software tends to fall a bit flat once you get out onto these back roads. Anyway, they should be here in ten, maybe twenty minutes."
He walked back to his truck and climbed in. As he pulled forward, he leaned out the window.
"You have a good protest, all right? If you and your friends would like to come up to the offices afterward to discuss the matter over a cup of coffee, feel free. My name's Byron. Byron Kimner."
||| Comments are welcome |||
Help keep the words flowing.
He looked up from his iPhone 5 at the enormous blue pickup that eased to a stop several car lengths up the road from Jeremy's VW. Wide and high, the nearly-new truck had dual wheels in the back and a complicated-looking hitching thing in the bed. It had a red and white lettered logo on the side. Bracing for the first confrontation of the day, Jeremy tapped out GTG and tucked the phone away. His REI vest had an inside cellphone pocket, both vented and padded. He didn't expect things to get rough, but he was glad for the padding.
The truck shut off and a big man climbed out. Boots, jeans and a belt buckle with what was probably a NASCAR logo. His blue golf shirt had the same red-and-white lettering as the truck. Jeremy braced himself, spreading his feet. He wasn't going to be driven off before the protest had even started, and certainly not by some millionaire corporate farmer.
"Good morning! I thought I'd stop and see if you needed some help, but it looks like you're getting ready for an event."
The big man's voice was surprisingly normal. Jeremy had expected... well, there was no reason why a farmer's voice had to be deep and twangy, right? That was stereotyping. Now that he was closer, Jeremy could see that the logo on his shirt spelled out "Kimner Farms".
"Uh... yeah. I'm just waiting for my friends."
"Fair enough. So, what have you got against them?"
"What? I don't understand. I don't have anything against my friends."
"No, I mean what do you have against GMO crops." The big man pointed at Jeremy's sign: HELL NO, GMO, THROW THEM BACK AT MON$ANTO!!"You came all the way out here to a soybean field to protest against them. Mind telling me what you find so objectionable?"
Jeremy stared. There didn't seem to be any rancor or confrontation in the man's voice, just an open question.
"Uh... lots of things."
"Such as?"
Jeremy didn't know what to say. He wasn't the spokesperson for the group, just one of the rank and file. They'd warned him to be ready for the sherrif, for counter-protests, for accusations of trespass. The last thing he'd expected was to have to talk to some farmer and defend something so obvious as why genetically modified crops were bad.
The big man stood, waiting for his answer.
"Look," said Jeremy, "are you the farmer who owns these crops? Because this is public road and I have every right to be here."
"Hey, calm down. No one's questioning your rights. I was just asking why you don't like GMOs. I think just about all these fields around here are planted to modified hybrids, either from Monsanto or maybe Cargill, Land O Lakes, DuPont, you name it. Folks around here seem to like 'em well enough. I guess that means that if you're gonna protest GMOs, this is the place to do it. So... what's up? What's wrong with them?"
"They're bad for the environment. They poison wildlife. They're pure profit for the big corporations." Jeremy said the first things he could think of. He wasn't good at one-on-one confrontations, and the big farmer's composure was rattling him. "They're bad for small farmers. They make people use more chemicals. They... they lead to dependence on the chemical companies and the seed suppliers. They... uh, they contribute to monoculture, which is bad for the environment."
Throughout this recitation, the other man's expression had been one of polite interest. As Jeremy trailed off, he nodded and waited a moment, as though he were inviting Jeremy to continue. It wasn't a rude move, not something that seemed obviously calculated to humiliate, but Jeremy still felt a bit foolish.
"I see. Well, that's a pretty serious list of reasons to dislike GMOs," the man said. "As you might imagine, I take a somewhat different view of things, but I won't spoil your day with them."
His cell phone's chiming interrupted whatever he was about to say next. He excused himself, turned away from Jeremy and took out an iPhone 4S from his back pocket. After a brief conversation, he hung up.
"The rest of your party got lost on the way here. They just stopped up at the main offices on Bartam Rd. to ask directions." He waved his iPhone. "The mapping software tends to fall a bit flat once you get out onto these back roads. Anyway, they should be here in ten, maybe twenty minutes."
He walked back to his truck and climbed in. As he pulled forward, he leaned out the window.
"You have a good protest, all right? If you and your friends would like to come up to the offices afterward to discuss the matter over a cup of coffee, feel free. My name's Byron. Byron Kimner."
||| Comments are welcome |||
Help keep the words flowing.
LOL, now that's how you defuse a protest! Although I have to say I'm on Jeremy's side... simply because Monsanto has a bad habit of suing people when their seeds get into someone else's crop.
ReplyDeleteNot all protests have to be violent confrontations, that's for sure.
DeleteLove how level-headed and nice he is. I feel for Jeremy, though; I'm no good in one-on-one confrontations, either. I'd have been a stuttering mess, too. Good story!
ReplyDeleteThanks, Eric!
DeleteHm. Well, speaking as someone who's anti-GMO, I could have done better. :P
ReplyDeleteI think just about anybody could have done better than poor Jeremy.
DeleteThe story communicates a definite bias. Curious as to why the protester isn't better informed.
ReplyDeleteJeremy was content to just be a member of the chorus, backing up the more verbally facile (or better informed) members of his group. It just goes to show how important it is to be able to defend your positions. If you can't, then you need to think about them some more.
DeleteI feel like I need to know more about GMOs in order to get the Byron Kimner reference. Is he the guy who designed GMO seeds to screw the soil and require annual re-sales?
ReplyDelete8th from last paragraph, minor typo: "from Monsanto or myabe Cargill"
The name "Byron Kimner" has no significance, since I made it up. A quick Google search just showed that if there IS a real Byron Kimner, he's made no impression on the Internet.
DeleteTypo is fixed now. Thanks.
I'm wondering what is the significance of the protester having a newer model phone than Kimmer.
ReplyDeleteTopical story--nice to remind anyone, whatever the cause, to know what you are fighting for.
Spot on interpretation!
DeleteAlso - would you like me to tell you the significance of that?
Annual seed purchases were normal long before GMO seeds. Some open pollinated seed such as soybeans might have been saved for a generstion , but next years seed would have came from seed that was bought. Seed quality deminishes with each generation that seed is kept from the original. Also there is a cost consideration with keeping seed, for some farmers it's cheaper to buy seed than keep it.
ReplyDeleteThanks for stopping by, Tom. This is a fictional story, but I certainly appreciate having the real world experience brought into the discussion.
DeleteIn the UK we have more issues with the use of particular pesticides, so I'd have been interested to hear Byron's argument, but I think it says a lot that a protestor would be so utterly ill informed!
ReplyDeleteHe seems to be more interested in just adding his voice than in being informed on what he's adding his voice to.
Deleteyep, nailed the mentality perfectly on this. In Uk farmers also doing deals with mobile phone companies to have masts on their land where it's high up.
ReplyDeletemarc nash
Farmers aren't the dull, unsophisticated rubes they are often made out to be.
DeleteHm, I would think that if he cared enough to show up for the protest, he'd have better information. Most people won't get off their bums for anything less than pure passion. Wish I had been there with him, I would have given Byron an earful!
ReplyDeleteI suspect that Byron could have given an earful back, if he'd been so inclined. He seems like a much lower-key sort of person, though.
DeleteThis reminded me of a discussion I had with a science journalist once. He was making fun of people who were anti-GMO, saying they didn't understand the science involved. I countered with some of the points that other commenters have already listed (Larry's point about Monsanto suing people for seeds they didn't even plant was my lead-off if I remember right). The journalist's defence was that "most" people who were anti-GMO didn't know what they were talking about -- like that changed the facts somehow. Sigh.
ReplyDeleteIt was refreshing to read a story about people behaving in a level-headed and reasonable manner. Side note: have you heard of Morgellon's disease? http://www.globalresearch.ca/gmo-and-morgellons-disease/8464
I read the linked story. Doesn't seem very credible to me.
Delete