Published Sept. 14, 2008 in the Hibbing
Daily Tribune
The Hay Days
By Aaron J. Brown
Hay!
That’s what my wife and I say to each other when we pass hay bales
along the highway. The idea is to dupe the other person into saying
“What?” Over time, the game has come to demand high level acting skill,
ranging from “HAY!” to the much more subtle “hay?” This is the lighter
side of a season where everything dies and winter is coming.
For me, growing up in the Cherry area, seeing hay bales in September
was as common as mine dumps or lakes around the rest of the Range.
Something my mom told me when I was little changed the mental image I
have of hay. With me buckled up safely in the back seat, she told me
and my sisters that the hay bales we see in the fields were alive.
They would move silently, slowly toward the highway, she said. Each
time we passed a hay field the bales would be just a few inches closer
to the road. One day, maybe soon, a hay monster would jump up on the
highway and “get us.”
My perception of this story has changed over time, much like the
seasons. At first the natural reaction was an irrational childhood fear
of hay bales. Later, I wondered why mom would say this. This really
puzzled me for a long time. Sure, I got over my fear of hay bales. (Our
high school class picture was taken in front of a pile of hay bales and
I was fine). But that didn’t explain anything … until I had kids. I
caught myself the other day starting to tell our three boys about the
hay monsters during a drive in the family van. I refrained. I should
wait, I thought, for his cognitive abilities to develop just a little
more so that he’ll be really scared of hay bales. Why? You
know, it’s just fun. I guess that’s all. But maybe it’s because,
subconsciously, I want to teach my boys that what seems to be isn’t
always what is.
Like a lot of northern Minnesotans, my drive to work takes some time. A
drive like mine lets you see the way things are. Today, the roadside
shows much more than benign hay bales. We modern people absorb a lot of
information from our TVs and the Internet, but the truth can be found
along the road. When boats, trailers, RVs, campers, ATVs and trucks are
being sold in front of every other country home on the Iron Range,
things are tightening up. We Iron Rangers don’t talk about it. We don’t
go on CNN to complain. But there it is.
The pages of Iron Range newspapers and the headlines of local TV news
tell us about potential growth in the region, much of it very
encouraging. But these stories are always told in the future tense,
with words like “would,” “should” and “could.” The present tense is
much more troubling. Today I saw three boats, four campers and several
cars for sale out along the highway. I noticed many houses for sale in
which the owner has changed real estate agencies more than once, for
lack of a buyer. I also see more and more “for sale by owner” signs as
people try to collect lost equity in homes that are worth less.
When I get to town, the grocery store sells the items on my shopping
list – milk, bananas and bread – at prices 50 percent higher than just
two years ago, sometimes double. I stop at the gas station on my way
home where an attendant offers me a great deal if I sign up for a gas
card.
The deal? $3 a gallon gas. “Wow,” I say. “That’s a pretty good deal.”
It is, I guess, but I still decline and note to myself that people were
outraged when gas prices hit $3 just a year ago. Just as a child
strapped in a car seat would fear a slow moving but relentless hay
bale, we now feel a sense of helplessness as hard-earned wages remain
stagnant in the face of rising prices and an uncertain future.
And while hay monsters are not real, our problems are. They show along
our roads and streets.
These monsters need slaying.
Aaron J. Brown is a columnist for the Hibbing Daily Tribune.
Contact him or read more at his blog, MinnesotaBrown.com.
His new book “Overburden: Modern Life on the Iron Range” will
be released Oct. 14, 2008.
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