Paul Harvey
The Livestock Market Digest always gets me thinking.
It keeps me in touch with farming and ranching in Western states and the thousand happenings big-city newspeople don't consider important enough anymore; not enough of what they call "social significance".
Lee Pitts, the good ol' boy editor, says he won't mind if I prune and paraphrase something he wrote the other day about "People who live at the end of dirt roads".
He believes that what's mainly wrong with American society these days is that too many of our roads have been paved.
He's convinced there's not a problem in America today - crime, drugs, education, divorce, delinquency - that could not be remedied if we just had more dirt roads.
Dirt roads build character.
People who live at the end of a dirt road learn early that life is a bumpy ride - that it can jar you right down to your teeth sometimes - but it's worth it if waiting at the end are home and a loving spouse and happy kids and a frisky dog.
We wouldn't have near the trouble we have with our educational system if our kids got their exercise waling a dirt road with other kids with whom they learn how to get along.
There are less crime in our streets before they were paved. Criminals did not walk dusty miles to rob or rape when they knew they'd be welcomed by five barking dogs and a double-barreled shot gun.
And there were no drive-by shootings.
Our values were better when our roads were worse. People didn't worship their cars more than their kids.
And motorists were more courteous. You didn't tailgate when riding the bumper or the guy in front would choke you with dust and bust your windshield with rocks.
Dirt roads taught patience.
Dirt roads were environmentally friendly. You didn't hop in your car and deplete the ozone for a quart of milk.
You walked to the barn for your milk.
For your mail you walked to the mailbox.
What if it rained and the dirt road washed out? That was the best part. Then you stayed home, had some family time, roasted marshmallows, popped pop corn, pony-rode on daddy's shoulders and learned how to make prettier quilts than anybody's.
At the end of a dirt road kids learned about sex and its results from watching every living thing.
So when you were 13 and found the girl on the see catalogue suddenly worth a second look you understood why.
At the end of the dirt road you learned that bad words soon tasted like soap.
Paved roads lead to a fishing creek or a swimming hole.
At the end of a dirt road the only time we ever locked our car was in August.
Because if we didn't some neighbor would fill it with too much zucchini.
At the end of a dirt road there was always extra springtime income from when city dudes would get stuck and you'd have to hitch up a team to pull them out.
Usually you got a dollar. Always you got a new friend!