Bangs and Bovines

I have a widow'speak and a cowlick. Actually two cowlicks, one on either side of my widow's peak.

So I never fit in during the big "pouf" bang craze of my junior high school days. I tried, but when I parted my hair in the middle, my bangs ended up looking like a McDonald's sign. And so, many years ago, I accepted the fact my forehead will never be covered by bangs, and I stopped blaming my grandparents' cow for it.

Papaw Jack and Granny Maggie had several black angus when I was a little girl. One of those cows loved cucumbers. I remember Granny Maggie picking me up and holding me as I extended my arm toward the cow, a ripe green cucumber protruding from my hand. I'll never forget the up-close sight of that long, fat, wet tongue, how it made me want to let go of the cucumber and run away screaming. (Did I mention how wet it was?) But Granny didn't let me. She must have said something to convince me to let Bessie wrap her tongue around the cucumber and slide it out of my hand. I got licked in the process.
At some point in my childhood, probably while inquiring about my golden arches, I learned the word "cowlick," and I began associating my cowlicks with that cucumber-feeding experience. For years, I thought Granny must have lifted me to the cow when I was only days old, that the cow licked my forehead, and that the encounter lead to my cowlicks, the ones that rendered me incapable of wearing bangs.

(The Internet tells me there is much debate among word experts about the origin of the word cowlick. They agree the word refers to an unruly tuft of hair that grows in a direction different from that of the rest of the hair. But some say it takes its origin from the spiral-like way a cow's hair grows or looks after a self-grooming. Others say the origin comes from the belief that cow saliva would cause human hair to stand up, so a cowlick is a tuft of hair that looks as if a cow has licked it. But I digress.)

Of course, heredity is to blame for my cowlicks, not Bessie. And I've grown to love my hair and cows.

I treasure those experiences from my youth, spending time on the farm, pulling cucumbers right off the vine and sharing them with cows. And so, when I first heard the word "agritourism," I took a genuine interest.

Tourism, I learned, isn't just about going whitewater rafting or taking a trip to Disney World. What's hot now is the farm experience, "agri-entertainment" if you will. In fact, the Southeast Tourism Society just named the State Fair of West Virginia, agritourism at its finest, one of the "Top 20 Events for Summer 2008."

The state hopes to study just how much of an economic impact agritourism is having, but those official figures aren't yet available. Knowing that agritourism includes not only farms, but bed and breakfasts, wineries, the State Fair and other land-based businesses, I'd venture to guess the impact is significantly positive.
It’s good that children and city folk can experience the sights, sounds and even the smells of working farms. And it's wonderful that these hard-working people are willing to give the rest of us a glimpse of their lifestyle. What's sad is that these days it's far too often necessary for farmers to supplement their incomes in order to keep farming.
We should all keep in mind when we visit these "tourist spots" that most people running them work long, difficult hours for little money because they love the land. We need to support them , buy their crafts, their produce, their wine , if we expect them to be around for our children's children to experience.

With any luck, they'll be blessed with memory of being licked by a cow.