How do I know this? Well, because I remember that in 6th grade for the spring musical, our class did a Hee Haw spoof. Yes. And now that I think about it - it may not have actually supposed to have been a spoof - it was just that bad that it seemed like we were making fun. I know now the joke was on us.
Anyway, we somehow convinced my friend, Brett, to dress up like Dolly Parton for one scene, and during this he held up a sign that read, "Farmland, population 1,500" just like in Hee Haw. And you don't soon forget your 12-year-old friend - who's a boy - standing on stage at the spring musical with big fake boobs and a blonde wig. What kind of twisted music teacher did we have?
So it's tiny. And hasn't changed much. There's still really nothing to do there, only now I appreciate that. When I was a teenager, I thought I would die from the boredom that the town was suffocating us all with.
In hindsight, of course, it was a great place to grow up. My friends and I would get on our bikes and be gone all day and no one worried about it. When I walked to the grocery to pick something up for my mom, if she forgot to tell me to get something, she could just call up there and tell them to make sure I got it; and she'd just run the money up later to pay for it.
Of course, to a kid, the town's stench of oppression was overwhelming and I couldn't wait to flee.
Now my kids think Farmland is the greatest place on Earth. Yes - that's the name of the town. No - I did not live on a farm. It was pretty great - but I only know that now, in retrospect.
Here are a few shots of my hometown: