What really matters

It's a fucked-up world. I struggle to make sense of it. Haven't watched the Grammy Awards for years, and after tuning in for two minutes last night I remember why. That's not my world. There's a local outfit called the Beckett Family. They do traditional country stuff that predates Nashville. They're fiddle-heavy and utterly old-school, and you ain't gonna see any bearded ladies. Can't imagine they'll ever appear at the Grammy Awards. They keep it simple. That's important to simpletons like me. Out here everybody has a few acres and everybody grows food or keeps chickens or grazes beef cattle. Throughout my teaching career I lost most of my students during deer hunting season. Hard to imagine going hungry. When I look at that Grammy crowd of beautiful people, I wonder how many will be able to feed themselves once their supermarkets have been looted. That won't be a problem out here.