Would you pay a Rolls Royce
price to move dirt around?
I’ve been around them since I was just a tyke
— there’s even a Kodak snapshot of three-year-old me sitting proudly at the
wheel of the Farmall tractor my Uncle Ernest used for years to work his small
family farm in Northeast Texas.
I can only imagine how bewildered that
hardworking, no-nonsense farmer would’ve been to learn about the latest
“advance” in plowing machines: A luxury tractor!
Produced by Case IH, it’s named “Optum 270
CVX.” As described in the Wall Street Journal, the Optum
is much more showhorse than workhorse — a “whispering, smokeless giant with
automated systems controlling the tractor and attached instruments.”
It boasts “automated guidance [for] row-following,” along with “Swiss Army knife versatility with two and four-speed power-takeoffs,” an “array of power hydraulics,” “inline 6.7 liter turbo-diesel engine,” and “automated locking differentials.”
Climb the five-step ladder to get up to the
space-age pilot’s capsule of this 10-foot tall vehicle and you’ll find so many
aesthetics and electronics that you won’t know whether to go plow the back 40
with it or fly it to Mars.
The Case IH PR director says that this
garnet-colored, 12-ton Goliath isn’t only built for Big Ag operations. It’s
also for you gentlemen farmers who “want your neighbors to see what a fine
tractor you have.” In that case, snoot appeal has to be awfully important to
you, for the Optum sells for the Rolls Royce price of $250,000.
For genuine dirt farmers, like my Uncle
Ernest was, riding a tractor is work, not an ego trip. In farm country, paying
a quarter-million dollars for a plow horse brands you as a Wall Street dandy, a
fool, or both.
If you honestly want to impress your neighbors,
don’t gold-plate your ride — make a better crop.
OtherWords columnist Jim Hightower is a radio
commentator, writer, and public speaker. He’s also the editor of the populist
newsletter, The Hightower Lowdown, and a member of the Public Citizen
board. Distributed by OtherWords.org.