im Dominic Decarlo.
I dont know about you but I think its important to record and remember the people I meet in my life. I am an artist I like to make art and i've found a new personal way to make art and its nice to share and its free. I make prints and drawings that illustrate my thoughts and feelings at different moments of my life, and I make short audio stories to help with the narration. Recently i've been making websites, so now I can add interaction with the reader. Its great, I think its great, sometimes I get compliments. Its really nice to do and it makes me feel productive and makes me perceive the people around me as larger than life.
About a year ago I gave up living in suburbia in Rohnert Park, California. I was paying $300 a month for a 5x8 foot room on the second floor of a house. I didn't have a bathroom, it had no heat or air conditioning, and I couldn't stand up straight because the roof was slanted. In the summer I had to sleep on the couch in the living room because it was too hot and in the winter I would run up the electricity bill with space heaters. I worked two jobs to live there and went to school at Sonoma State University studying Physics and later, Printmaking. A week into the semester, my land lord, a cop, texted my three roommates and myself telling us we have to go.
I turned twenty two years old and my best friend called me to tell me he had Leukemia. I drove back from UCSF Parnassus medical center to my job at the farm in Petaluma, Sonoma County California. I took this job a week earlier with an offer of free rent, free food, and no lease. I didn't interview for the position, the owner was Tara Smith and she looked me up and down and decided in 5 seconds that I had the job. I was amazed. I grew up in the city, as a child i was terrified of animals, crying and begging to escape when a petting zoo was forced on me. They pay me 15 dollars an hour and they leave me alone most of the time. They give me a task, and I perform the task in the fresh air and I receive a pay check twice a month. I have access to all of the trucks and all terrain vehicles and I know how to drive them proficiently. I get to smoke cigarettes whenever and where ever I please. I see the sunrise and sunset every day I work and some days when the owners are gone I get to carry a rifle around the property and shoot during my breaks.
I took the job because I had no where to live. I took the job because I only had $800 in my bank account and because my landlord wouldn't give me my deposit back. I took the job because I couldn't find a room for less than $300 dollars a month. I took the job because I hated my current job, I hated doing the work of three people and watching people get paid for standing.
In fact, no one talks to me at all aside from giving direction, instead when im alone with my thoughts I talk to the animals behind their electric wire and I tell them everything i've ever done and everything im planning to do. Its like church. I work by myself most days or underneath one man, Pat the farmhand.
I drove back at 9am after drinking late into the morning at Alexs' home. We had both gone and seen Travis together at the hospital. Thats my best friend, Travis Russo, He's 21 years old and has Leukemia and I decided not to remind him its my birthday. We used to look alike in high school, same build, same eye and hair color, we would impress girls by saying we were twins and could read each others minds. Travis is an athlete, a diver and gymnast who is in better shape than anyone I know. He went into the hospital because he felt sick and exhausted from his workout routine and now he had to stay because he has Leukemia. Travis is 21 and has Leukemia and I bought him a coloring book on my birthday because I didn't know what else to do. Alex is one of my best friends too, he's a good person and good friend but he doesn't share the history me and Travis share. We can't read each others minds. He told me that I was his definition of altruistic. That was really nice.
Today I was going to learn how to drive a Tractor.Pat is the farm hand and my boss. He knows how to fix anything on the farm, and he knows how to use Google and Youtube to learn how to fix anything he doesn't. Pat is 5 foot 10 and is dedicated to his job. He wears flannels and jeans everyday, he smokes Camel regulars and prefers Coors to Budweiser. He was raised by his parents as a Buddhist, to believe that he was his own God and believes that organized religion is the most insane barbaric practice humanity has ever invented. He believes in woman's rights, and the uninfringed right to bare arms. He likes conspiracy theories and likes me regardless of my Catholic upbringing and belief. Pat makes the farm WORK, outlasting every other farm hand to become the sole caretaker of the animals and the property. I wanted to dedicate myself to learning everything I could so I could fill in and give him time off.
I got back to the farm late around 3pm after sitting in Saturday morning traffic all day. I told Pat it was my birthday and we drank Makers Mark bourbon before going out to drive the tractor. He was surprised I was there and he told me to make sure that I had clocked in before we left the barn. I laughed and told him I wasn't scheduled today, that I just needed something to take my mind off the previous day, and that I wanted to make sure that I wouldn't die after flipping the $30,000 piece of machinery, or worse, be fired. He blinked and nodded and gave me more bourbon and a cigarette. I felt better drinking and he felt better knowing that was I giving up my free time to learn the job.
He put me up on the red tractor. On top, you are about 7 feet off the ground. The speedometer read 4000 miles which I thought was really low but he told me was actually pretty high. He pointed out the different levers and the gears, talking confidently, while sloshing his drink to the ground with his quick gestures and movements, about the nuances and broken parts of the machine, about the parts he had fixed with bits of metal and wire, explaining how to make it perform exactly how I needed it to perform and bragging about all the tricks he would teach me. He told me to pay attention to the three levers on the lower right side of the seat, by my right foot, and a forth lever beside the trio which he said did nothing, or that he didn't know what it did. He asked if I've ever driven a stick shift before and I laughed. The sun was setting and we both stopped to light cigarettes and watch the hills change colors as we waited for the tractor to warm up. Beautiful, like cowboys I thought. He taught me how the middle lever controlled the implement, thats the heavy detachable shovel on the back of the tractor that was used as a counterweight when handling large loads. He taught me how to use it to ensure I dont flip the tractor and die.
He told me to wear my seat belt too.The next time I drove it was a week later, Pat had taken a vacation. The first weekend he had had off in a year and he drove to his girlfriends ranch 90 miles away. I was honored, he left me in charge of the farm. I was THE farm hand. The owners were gone, and James, my roommate, and I owned the farm tomorrow. I was proud and full of myself and cocky and went to bed early. I woke up early and took my time doing the morning chores and got a text message telling me to call Pat around ten. I went to the farm store to use the phone and he apologized as soon as he answered. He told me I had to do something I've never done before. That I had to be careful and that he was sorry he had to put me in this position but this needs to be done and he can't drive back. I needed to refill two 330 Gallon IBC water totes and drive a mile up and down the washed out roads on the far side of the property to get water for the market herd, thats the herd of around 100 pigs that we have. He apologized again for forgetting to do it before he left but he felt confident I could do it if I went slow enough. I agreed without question, making it sound casual and matter of fact. I had to do it, I had to do whatever he or the owners asked him to ask me to do because I didn't want to find somewhere else to live.
He told me to wear my seat belt and hung up.Whats up with these seat belts I thought. I drove to the barn that housed the tractor and started it up. Pat taught me that you have to engage the battery and let the electricity warm up the diesel before you start it, and then let the entire machine warm up for several minutes. I paced around the tractor, I cleaned mud and shit out of the tire ruts with my hands while I sucked down nicotine. I filled the large water totes but forgot to arrange them so I could easily pick them up with the tractors forks, had to drain them, rearrange, and then fill them again. I examined every tool we had in the barn for defects or pieces which I could fix. I moved hay into the pickup trucks bed for the evening feed for our cows. I pulled weeds out of the cracks in the barns floor. I forgot to refuel the tractor so I cut the engine, refueled it, and stalled for more time. I was nervous, I had never done this before, I had only driven it once.
It took me five minutes to load the water tote onto the forks of the tractor. I constantly parked the tractor and got off to crouch down and see if the forks were in the right position before I pulled forward. If I stabbed the tank I would have to hide it or pay the owners $245 for a new one. I finished loading and breathed deep before I shifted the tractor into first gear, leaving it there, and started toward the washed out backroads of the property. Nothing was paved, these were dirt and rock roads that I creeped along at less than 4 miles an hour, standing up out of y seat an craning my neck to ensure I don't plunge into a ditch. I went painfully slow, smoking cigarettes the entire time. But I felt in control. This was easier than I anticipated, it felt natural. I was THE farm hand. This was my iron horse on which I ride, and I started laughing to myself. I started to sing to relieve my own anxiety, singing to the animals around me but mostly to myself. I sang to keep my heart rate down. I sang Blink-182 songs, I sang songs from my years in High School. I sang Conor Oberst songs and old Ralph Stanley songs. I sang three Hank Williams songs in a row, ending with I Saw The Light and before I knew it I was my own God.
I forgot the seat belt and laughed again. How could it help me anymore than these songs? It only restricted my access to the levers and to the smokes I thought.I unloaded the new tanks for the pigs and hooked it up to the already present hoses. I panicked unloading the water and crushed a few wooden pallets which suspended the tanks above the drinking tubs. The tanks were bone dry and they screamed at me for water and fought each other as it poured all over them into their trough where they drank it greedily. I sat there and watched them for twenty minutes until they had all been satiated, the clear water now a dark murky brown from their muddy bodies, and soon the pigs were ignoring me completely. I went inside the paddock, as per Pats instructions and removed any pieces of wire which had been torn off the fences and checked to ensure they had food.
This protocol is ingrained in me, I do it without thinking, my body just carries me in the direction of where work needs to be done and my hands shoot forward leaving my brain available to any number of mental gymnastics. Sometimes I would use it to remember song lyrics other times I would think about and say to the animals all of my dreams and worries. It's really nice, better than any therapy, and cheaper too. I am fulfilling a purpose and I feel great. I had brought the water and I am THE farm hand. I had brought the water and now the pigs will live another day. I had brought the water instead of a coloring book and I felt better.
I had brought the water and I was now my own God.I rerecorded the original audio for this story, the link for the original is below and I sound a lot less happy in it. I wrote that story in 2015 and Travis doesn't have Leukemia anymore. His one year without Cancer was on March 1, 2017, and if you know anything about cancer that means his chances to get it again drop tremendously. He is back at school and Im no longer working on the farm. I went traveling, came back, worked there for a few months, and now I go to school at San Francisco State University, studying Graphic Design and I feel very happy. The original one was done in one take without any breaks (for a class which required it to be under five minutes) very late at night and it didn't do Travis, or Pat justice.
I used several songs in this story,
the first is an original
the second is Elizabeth Cotten - "Oh Babe It Ain't No Lie"
the third is Mum - "We Have a Map of the Piano"
the fourth is Bipolar Bear - "Old Guts"
the fifth is Jonathan Richman - "Im a Little Dinosaur"
the sixth is Hank Williams and the Carter Family on the Kate Smith Evening Hour"
the seventh is Hank Williams - "I Saw The Light"
Here is the original audio from 2015