During the depression when farmers’ kids moved to the cities, forced to trade in their plows for factory jobs, many developed similar neuroses.  Quite a few were recorded as breaking down in the center of an assembly line; they were simply unable to adjust to their new, artificial surroundings.  Doing the same task, over and over, these farmers kids were forced to transform themselves, away from natural time, into the ticking of their mechanized environment.  As it turns out, Missy’s relatives on her mother’s side are still farmers; they live in Oklahoma, knee deep in red dirt, and wading through cotton.  Down in Austin there’s no cotton, except in the clothing stores, already processed.

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