| Garden Party, Part III Restrictions and Restlessness So, I turned to Anwar Sadat the other day and said, "How's your garden?" And he said to me, "The garden is doing well. The artichokes are up, the carrots pushed through a few weeks ago and are getting bigger, and the potato plants have really taken off. But the cabbages, well they're kind of a problem." "Problem?" I asked. "What kind of problem?" "Well," he began, "they want to move." "Move?" I asked. "What do you mean by that?" "Well," he said, "they've got it into their heads that the tomatoes have the choicest spot in the garden and they want that land all to themselves." "Wait just a doggone minute!" I hastened. "You mean to tell me that you talk to the plants in your garden?" "Not really," he answered. "They talk to me and I've just got to listen, because it's in my best interest." "Well, if that don't beat all!" I said. "Yup. Should've listened to my garden a long time ago. Could've saved the celery stalks from the creeping tendrils of the cantaloupe patch," he reminisced. "So, about the cabbages envying the tomatoes--what's going on?" I inquired. "The history of the garden is that the ancestors of the cabbages, the Brussel's sprouts, used to occupy that very land. But after plagues and famine wiped them out, the land lay fallow for decades. Then through feudal wars the land changed hands several times, until it came to be occupied by its present inhabitants, the tomatoes," he explained. "What do you reckon is going to happen?" I questioned. "At the present, the cabbages are fixing to declare a range war, unless I let them occupy the tomato patch land," he said solemnly. "Can they do that?" I wondered out loud. "Start a range war, I mean?" "You can't afford to underestimate them," he cautioned. "I know that they mean business." "What do you aim to do?" I inquired. "Have you heard of the saying 'the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence'?" he asked. "Yeah," I said. "Everyone has." "Well, that's just what I'm a gonna do," he answered, smiling as he folded his arms in front of him. After a long pause and scratching my head in puzzlement, I asked, "What is that? I don't see what you're aiming at." "I'm fixing to fence-in the entire garden and tell those cabbages that they can go anywhere they want to go, as long as it's inside the garden fence, and as long as they ask for & get permission from its present occupants first," he explained. "Sounds like you still have a range war in the making," I replied. "What if they start shooting?" "Maybe there won't be a war," he said. "Those cabbage plants don't want to hurt anyone! They just don't like to have to live where they are because they think where they are isn't what they deserve in life. They want that high-er ground, but why? It's not going to help them grow any taller!" "They just don't know how good they've got it! They need to realize that they share the same soil, water, worms, and minerals with the rest of the garden. They all need to start doing their best with what they've got; make friends with themselves, instead of making war with their neighbors. They'll find that there is plenty of everything for themselves and everyone else, once they start doing that. Enough sunshine, rain, worms, minerals, and enough weeds, too," he chuckled. "Besides, they know that the tomato plants have the real ammunition. All the cabbage plants have is big heads! And we all know what happens to big heads, right?" "Yeah," I offered. "They get deflated!" "No," he corrected. "They get picked off when their time is up! And they all go into the same pot when that happens! Every one of them: cabbage, beans, potatoes, corn, tomatoes; and they make a mighty fine stew, let me tell you!" |
| Part IV |