The Things I Remember Most of All

My fondest memories of the farm are of watching the cattle chop and stack the firewood on cold winter mornings. I remember how Juan Carlos Domingo de la Montaña, our big stud bull, would swing the axe over his head and, always with a little grunt, split whole timbers with one mighty blow. I remember how Princess Crystalbell Sue Worthwright, our dairy cow, would take the split pieces and stack them meticulously by the wall beside the back door so we wouldn't have to walk far to get fresh wood for the fire. Those cattle were nicer to us than we deserved. They gave me some of my fondest and clearest memories of a normal, safe, happy life on an idyllic American farm.

My saddest memory is of Mr. Worthington von der Richman-Hitler, the dour and cruel businessman in his suit and big fancy car, laughing as he poured fire on the farm to burn it down for banking and mortgages and country club membership with big fat cigars and old rich white men who control the world with their hate. I remember his goons holding Juan Carlos Domingo de la Montaña and punching him in the stomach as the old bull turned to me and, wincing in pain, groaned, "Run, boy! Save yourself!" I remember the outrage when I heard that they had taken his horns to decorate the hood of their million dollar cars and left his carcass to rot on the buffalo plains of the American prairie, making the noble native shed dignified and statuesque tears toward the distant setting sun on the horizon, wind blowing in their hair.

I will always stand for the noble young and wide-eyed, for animals wiser and more talkative than people. I will never bow to the power of banking or of old men with pocket watches and servants, laughing sinister guffaws over Wall Street Journals, sipping coffee and gin from the skulls of benevolent seals. I will always fight for happiness and farms and the pure love of a boy and his dog or a girl and her racehorse or a pig that just wants to be president of the United States so he can make people happy. Long live the hearts of innocent wonder! Down with economics and country clubs, smokestacks and harpoons, evil of every kind.

Hello, friends. Do you remember these things too?

Love.