Songs about small farming come and go, hit and miss. Mostly they miss because the mass of Americans are now at least three generations away from the land. They don’t even remember having relatives that farmed. The ‘farming’ songs that do become big hits are mostly novelties about tractors, skinny-dippin’ and rowdy parties far back in the woods where the law won’t bug you. This one, though, speaks the gods-honest-truth about small farming. The people who do it love it, wouldn’t want to do anything else, but it breaks a body down before it’s time. I’ll be surprised if it charts at all considering that there are now maybe only a dozen or fifteen big-city/big-corp PDs who call all the shots for the stations in the reporting pool, and those guys are increasingly weird, operating in a parallel universe. (Did you see some of them are now up to 70 spins a week on Heavies in service to the PPM?!) Since most of my readers are in small markets and we’ve got a lot of listeners who either still do some small farming or have close relatives who do, this record is a hymn in their honor and I think they’ll appreciate it much coming from us.