“How did they get so big?”

This rural South Carolinian may have a partial answer……Daddy!

I overheard a conversation a few years ago that I now only remember in summation. Something as to the effect that the law was canvassing the parking lot of the local bar (a prefab on the edge of a town of <600 people) to find a high-school age driver for some reason, the search based on license plates of the vehicles parked there. The response from this young woman of privilege was essentially, “What good will that do? They’re all registered in their daddy’s names anyway.” (So, to answer the opening question, it’s always easier to spend money that belongs to someone else, and many multi-generational farms have done quite well.)

So many stories of young people who died wrapped around a tree the very day they received their new, free Camero, etc., in pretty much every case a gift from Daddy. (With no intention or desire to be flippant, perhaps Drumpf’s tariffs will have one positive effect. While not farmers ourselves for many years, my parent’s home (where I act as geriatric caretaker) has always been surrounded in the past by four fields of thriving crops; typically tobacco and/or soybeans. This year? Four fields left fallow, or abandoned.)

I realize I’ve diverted from the topic, but perhaps only just a bit. Thanks much for a multi-textured read. (BTW, I’ve paid for all my own vehicles, thankyouverymuch.)