The Feeling Is Mutual

I was driving home from the store the other day and was on a narrow road that cuts from the highway into town. I’ve been on this road probably thousands of times over the last fifteen years and have never found myself stuck behind a tractor. I came around a corner and crested the top of a hill and there she was; it was a thing of beauty. For those of you that have lived in the city your whole life it’s probably hard for you to appreciate the finer aspects of a tractor; but us country-raised folk can tell the difference between a John Deere and an International Harvester from about 1000 yards. I live in a rural area but only about a mile from the center of town. There are a few farms around but not any planted fields such as corn, soybeans, or wheat. The farms are mostly chicken and beef cattle farms. Anyhow, the tractor that was ahead of me was a John Deere with an extremely good-looking man at the wheel. He had a John Deere hat perched upon ahead with curly blond hair. He was cute. I edged a little bit closer when all of a sudden he turned around and flashed me a grin. He looked up ahead trying to see if any vehicles were coming the other way. (It’s a curvy and hilly road—it’s hard to see in the opposite direction.) We were just cruising along at about 20 mph. I wasn’t in a hurry; I knew I would be home in about 5 minutes. The guy kept turning around looking at me; I bet he was used to cars trying to run him off the road. I wasn’t. I was lost in thought about memories from my youth of being stuck behind tractors. Where I’m from we had combines and big tractors that pulled all sorts of equipment. If you got stuck behind one of those International Harvesters, you weren’t going anywhere until it let you. There were no passing lanes. We approached a flat area in the road and he did the proper thing. He swung his arm around and began to motion for me to go ahead and pass him. Honestly, I really didn’t want too—I was admiring both him and the tractor. As I drove past he gave me another grin, tipped his cap and mouthed the words, “Nice car.” (Mustang) I pulled into my driveway and stepped over to the mailbox to get the mail. I looked up when I heard the familiar sound of that John Deere Tractor as it headed my way. He looked at me and gave me a thumps up and said “Nice car” again. I smiled back and gave my thanks. “Nice tractor,” I said. (I wonder if he would let me drive it.) Too late! He was already out of sight...