My adventures in the land of the make-believe, Stowe, ended a couple of weeks ago. Yep, I played sleigh driver for another eight-day run for the rich and sometimes famous. It’s a gig that is made all the more surreal during these times of economic Armageddon. You see, the crowd I usually run with exhibits the scars of these tough economic times. But the shiny Stowe crowd is clearly flying above any and all of the economic turbulence.
Oddly, there was barely a mention of the near-depression we’re finding ourselves in as we meandered through the faux-woods of Stowe. And when it was mentioned, it was usually by me, resulting in a response that wouldn’t have been much different if I had just farted.
But, again, we were in the land of make-believe, where people come to throw large sums of money around in exchange for the kind of entertainment they couldn’t otherwise provide for themselves. In fact, I’m pretty sure these folks don’t even know how to entertain themselves other than throwing money around. Off they go, from one entertainment purchase after another.
So asking them about the depression was surely in bad form from this lowly sleigh driver. Shut up, man, and keep the fantasies alive! Indeed, if they wanted reality they’d be taking a stroll down the streets of Newport, Hardwick or Morrisville, not a sleigh ride in Stowe.
The usual response to my odiferous query about the economy was pure denial. And several went so far as to try and convince me that it was really all just an overly-hyped media fantasy that has now morphed into a full-blown self-fulfilling prophesy.
I guess that’s what happens when you live your life flitting about in your Denali-SUV, going from this neon-adventure to that and keeping you and the children safely ensconced in a thousand-dollar-a-night room at Top Notch. Reality be damned.
And, because of the reality of these economic times, I was their driver. Glad-handing them, providing them with 30-minutes of make-believe Vermont talk, and then sniffing about them as they disembarked in search of that “glorious” moment when they reached for their over-stuffed wallets to flip me a five-ten-or-twenty-spot. Dignity for sale, indeed.
I most certainly would have rather been working my horses in the real woods, doing real work. But the perverted economic reality is that make-believe work is far more lucrative than the work of actually producing something. Sleigh rides pay far better than forestry. Agri-tourism pays far more than agri-culture. And serving food pays better than growing food.
Welcome to Vermont. Would you like our dignity with that?
Sort of like before 1789 in France. Let them eat fiddleheads. (and mushrooms)
I like the spirit of your post, but for better or worse our state hasn’t had comparative advantage in farming for a few centuries. The conditions don’t compare well with other states/countries. You wouldn’t try to grow rice in Arabia, why try to farm in Vermont?
Farming is about to be a fantastic industry though, if you want to make money growing food, look into starting an operation in Canada or Brazil.