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Another Noble Experiment Gone Awry

I think it was some 40 years ago when it was in the news "sing to your garden or your vegetables to enhance their growth and their vigor" and I thought why not? After all, I come from a family of pioneers. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. I was farming some 25 acres of peanuts on Uncle Clark Evans farm approximately two miles from here, a peanut patch suffering somewhat from malnutrition, dry weather and corn borers. I borrowed a loud speaker from the Extension Service, took a portable radio over to the Robertson place just south of Uncle Clark's peanuts where I had an electric plug, turned it on the only station available, which happened to be rock and roll, turned the volume up to high to carry over the 20 acres of peanuts, and went home at 10 p.m. to a blissful and well earned rest.

The rest is hearsay. Early the following morning, Lucille was awakened by a knock on the door. It was a highly irate, blurry-eyed Uncle Willie Evans and something of the following conversation ensued,

"Lucille, it may be you are my favorite niece, and I do not hold against you if that numbskull, dim-witted, imbecilic husband of yours is the one responsible for keeping me awake last night. I don't blame you because you married such a screw ball, but if he is the one responsible for me not getting a wink of sleep last night, I am going to expect you to put a stop to it."

Lucille's response was,

"Uncle Willie, I assure you I do not know a thing about what you are talking about, or whether or not O'Brien is involved in any way. However, it does sound like some hare-brained scheme he just might have dreamed up, and if it is, I will see that he puts a stop to it." 

She did, and I did.

But now, some 40 years later, George Bingham and Sons are having trouble with fire ants on 20 plus acres of peanuts on what we call the "Turner place."  He presently, in cooperation with Bob Whitney, has some chemical tests going to control fire ants. If the Bingham's and Bob

Whitney have a mind to, they might want to finish my abortive efforts of some 40 years ago by hooking up a sound system at the Hunter's cabin with the plan of controlling both fire ants and lesser cornstalk borer in one fell swoop, using only ultra-sonic sound, which would not disturb any neighbors. They might want to turn the sound up to play some country western. Just don't mention the name O'Brien.

Printed in the Comanche Chief newspaper, July 2001