Opinion : Advice and definitions for city-dwelling farm writers

In order to enlighten us city folk journalists about the realities of farm life so we can write better stories about farming, the Iowa Farm Bureau Federation and the Iowa Newspaper Association sponsor occasional educational events for city-born farm writers.

I attended such an event about five years ago, with about two dozen other journalists from around Iowa.

I was surprised to learn that only a few of us attending the session had much farm background.

There was one guy there who was an actual farmer as well as a small-town newspaper editor. A few of us had spent some time on a farm, but the rest were city folk. One guy was from Minneapolis; another from San Francisco.

In addition to letting us listen to real farmers and real agricultural experts talk about farm life and farm statistics and trends, they gave us a huge notebook of information about farming and journalism.

For example, one section was entitled, “Tips for Photography on the Farm.”

There were some valuable photography suggestions included in those 14 ideas. None of those suggestions, however, was, “Watch where you step.”

Or: Watch where you put your hands. I once had a not-so-smart associate who was working on a story at a farm when she touched an electric fence. Convinced she was going to die, she went to a doctor before going back to work. He told her she was fine. I hope he told her to stay away from farms in the future.

Also in that notebook from that farm writing seminar was a large section called “A Farmer’s Dictionary Guide to Agriculture Vocabulary.”

That dictionary explained some very basic farming terms, as well as some more complicated ones. I acknowledge that even though I spent some time on a tiny farm when I was a kid, I am one of those farm-ignorant journalists.

So in recognition of that reality -- and in an attempt to help city folk suffer on a farm like my colleague did -- let me share a few excerpts from my latest book, “The Novice City Kid Farm Writer’s Dictionary.”

The introduction says, in part, “While these words may mean something entirely different to those who understand farming, you must learn these definitions to avoid looking totally useless and dangerous with a camera around your neck and a notebook in your hand as you stand ankle deep in you-know-what with a goofy look on your face.”

Here are a few of those definitions from my upcoming book:

Acre: What ya get if ya stand too close to the headless end of a cow, horse or goat.

Boar: What you try really, really hard NOT to do to your readers when writing about farm issues about which you know absolutely nothing.

Barrow: What New England city-dwelling farm journalists call it when they surreptitiously read other farm articles and incorporate them into their story.

Clean Air Act: Spraying the barn with Lysol.

Deep Percolation: What must be done to the coffee before reporter is awake enough for pre-dawn interview with farmer who has already done all his chores by the time the journalist even wakes up.

Ditch Rider: What city journalist who doesn’t pay attention to his speed on loose gravel on country road may soon become.

European Union: How on Earth are we supposed to know how this affects farming when we ain’t even close to figuring out how it affects city life yet?

Fed Cattle: Did chores.

Feedlot: Do chores often.

Gilt: Bad feeling experienced by journalist who knows deep down after paper comes out that his farm writing really stinks.

Kernels: Spent all afternoon on Internet trying to figure out what on earth the Cedar Rapids baseball affiliate of the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim has to do with farming, with no success.

In Situ: How you, a city writer, would board a tractor.

Phototropism: Losing your footing while taking photograph in pasture.

Sewage: What you land in after a particularly unfortunate phototropism.

Urban runoff: What city dwelling farm writer plans to do as soon as possible after a phototrophic, ditch riding day of trying to write intelligent articles about farming.