Since Back In Auborn, an original monologue inspired from “Of Mice and Mice” based on the fictional character George.
GEORGE: Only way anybody gonna know ’bout life on the ranch is if you actually live it. That’s the truth. But to give you an idea of it, if you were to take a moment and tryin’ put yourselves in my denim overalls and scruffy black boots, it goes a little something like this: Being able to breathe the sweet breath of Mother Nature’s gentle loving breeze; makes me feel certain I have a purpose that unites me with something bigger than I can figure. Nothing better than a dirty face with sweat dripping down my brow and physical strain throughout my back to make me personally feel alive and important. I’m not trying to get sentimental when I say this but some days I’ll find myself standing on a hillside, looking out over the horizon, watching the sun shift it’s color across the vast valley; the warm yellows, sweet oranges and eye popping reds; against the trees and the green fields and vegetable gardens; is enough to feel blessed, working on the land. At least, for me.
You see, I can only do what I know. I ain’t never had no other way. I don’t know nothin’ else and besides, I been born into it since back in Auborn. I wouldn’t be completely honest if I didn’t say there is a sad side to the joy I experience working the fields. Hell, it sure makes you feel like the loneliest guy in the world. I got no family. I ain’t never belonged to any one place, at least, no place I could go an’ call my own home nowadays. Closest thing I have is memory and Lenny, I guess. Certainly don’t wanna be no rancher, workin’ up a stake, goin into town and blowin’ the stake before you can bat an eye. Tired of feeling like a frog jumping from pod to pod. Don’t always wanna be off somewheres, on some other ranch, goin’ through the whole damn circus all over again, place to place, with no direction.
Well, with me and Lenny, things is different. We ain’t gonna go the usual migrant farmer path. No, sir. We gonna get our jack together and we’re gonna get us a nice little ole house with a white picket fence, a big old apple tree, with a few acres an’ a couple a cows, some horses, beautiful horses…best damn horses this part of the South can find and some pigs. “We gonna build us a smoke house like the one gran’ pa had and when we kill a pig we gonna smoke the bacon and the hams and make sausages.” Gonna build me a strong wooden vegetable stand from my own vegetable patch so we could sell our produce in the market. I want a rabbit hutch for Lenny and a couple a dogs, like a border collie and we’ll build our own fire stove and invite musical guests over to sit around, have drink and enjoy some good country music. Heck, maybe even read some stories. Maybe, just maybe, one day, I can start a family of my own.