WHERE THE BUFFALO ROAM [W, 10-19022]

Have I told you about the buffalo and the bread truck?

I’m thinking about that because my friend, Phil, can’t drive for a while, so I’m taking him to Needmore Coffee this morning. Needmore Coffee is a great name for a coffee shop. I mean, who doesn’t need more coffee?

That’s not the reason for the name, though. The owner lives in the nearby hamlet of Needmore. The shop isn’t in Needmore, though. It’s here in Bloomington.

It’s my favorite coffee shop, because of my time in Nicaragua. The owner goes to Central America herself and buys her coffee beans directly from the farmers, so that they get all the profit. That’s real “Fair Trade.”

 

So, back to the buffalo and the bread truck, because that encounter took place in Needmore.

Several years ago I heard a folk singer, whom I’ll call Archie, tell the story of when he was living in a hippie compound in Needmore in the 1980s. He was in charge of the little general store and had to open earlier than most of the other hippies got up. The bread guy was there making a delivery. He and Archie were chatting in the store when they saw a big male buffalo coming down the road, stopping along the way from time to time to munch the roadside weeds.

The hippies had decided they should raise buffalo, even though it did make roller skating harder. [1] They were not very good at fence-building, though, and so everyone in Needmore was living “where the buffalo roam.”

Archie called the hippie who was in charge of the buffalo. After a while, he came ambling down the road, barefoot, shirtless, in overalls. The buffalo was farther along the road, closer to the grocery.

Archie and the bread guy watched. Too late, the bread guy realized the buffalo had accepted the challenge of the bread truck.

The bread guy had left the truck motor running. Why so many delivery people do that, I don’t know. Surely not every delivery truck has a bad battery or starter.

This time it was clearly a mistake, for that engine was making the low rumbling sound that said to the buffalo, “I’m tougher than you.” With its near-sighted eyes, the buffalo saw the big brute of a truck hulking, waiting, rumbling, and challenging, The buffalo charged the truck. With its horns under the front bumper, it lifted the truck into the air and then let if fall with a crash. The truck gave up. Satisfied, the buffalo ambled back up the road with the barefoot hippie.

I wrote this just because I love the story, but if you want a “point…”

Not everything that rumbles is a challenge. Not every challenge needs a response.

John Robert McFarland

1] I think Roger Miller was one of the best philosophers of the 20^th century. “You can’t roller skate in a buffalo herd, but you can be happy if you’ve a mind to.”