Sure, us city folk enjoy our steel buildings and prepackaged food, but what happens when TY takes a life-changing journey to middle-America? Will he forsake it all and become a farmer? (Spoiler Alert: Nope, he’s too incompetent). Or will he return with some grandiose, self-important lessons to share with the world? (Spoiler alert: you’re an idiot if you are still thinking of an answer)? Read on for sexy fun (but not pornographic) farm time adventures.

I am an over-privileged piece of crap with no appreciation for what makes America great.

That was my resonating thought as I pulled out onto 35E headed South towards Des Moines after spending a week on an dairy farm outside of Ames. I had just finished a week of not only working on the farm itself, but also hopping into an overstuffed car with inlaws to visit small towns and landmarks 1-3 hours away.

On paper, this is everything I hate brought together in one place:

• Animals that aren’t domestic pets or hippos in a zoo? F’ em.
• Hard work for it’s own sake? F’ that.
• Long car rides? Fleur-de-lis.
• In-laws? (I actually got lucky here - my in-laws are not only tolerable, but fairly awesome. Considering I dated girls with alcoholic and/or crazy fathers by the bushel, you will probably never hear me utter a strong complaint in this department… Unless they try to buy me a Spurs shirt again.)

Instead of rehashing my trip with pictures and snarky commentary, I thought I’d share the five most important lessons from my time spent in the heartland of Americana, the soul of the U.S.A, the source of the values that make this nation greater that 15 Switzerlands making sweet love to the French Riviera.

Prepare to not only learn something about Iowa, but maybe a little something about yourself. Be warned though- for all of its rustic charms, even Iowa cannot escape the omnipresence of Texas Douche.

Lesson One: Scheduled Exercise is for Clowns
I get constant ridicule in my circle of friends for my sudden devotion to exercise that started about 16 months or so ago. At first it was just kind of a curiosity to see if I would stick with it, but then it became a staple of my life. And since it was taking up 1-2 hours of my day, I naturally spent some time talking about it.

Sadly, there are only three reactions to talking about your exercise habits:
(1) The other person immediately trying to one-up whatever your accomplishment of the day was. “Hey, you ran 8 miles? That’s great. I ran 15 while peg-legging across the hot asphalt on my erect penis!”
(2) The other person immediately assuming you are a self-absorbed piece of crap who only cares about appearances, even as you still sheepishly point to your love handles and wedding ring in protest.
(3) They will laugh at you for a long period of time because, at the end of the day, you’re still going to die.

Well, the Midwest has found a way around this exercise problem by simply incorporating it into the everyday experience. Do you want some sweet corn? Well then trot your lazy ass down to the sweet corn section of the crop and pick some. (But don’t be fooled- you can’t eat the majority of what you see there. Because it’s on its way to becoming the high fructose corn syrup that makes America great.)

Need to do some landscaping? Get the tools and saw, lug them down to the pasture, and chainsaw that lawn-defacing piece of crap. Then get the chain, hook it to the tractor, pull it around and rearrange the woodpile.

Need to remodel a room? Well, there’s no central AC, so putting in that crown molding is going to feel like wallpapering a sauna.

This is awesome. There is no need to take an hour or two before work to run in place somewhere… Because in Iowa, it’s naturally built into the day. Farms are huge and if you want to cover ground quickly, you better be able to move your legs quickly. There is always something heavy to move and people can easily walk a few miles just to see their own land before they work. Still, all this work can bring up a healthy appetite, which brings us to:

Lesson Two: Eat Like a Champion Today… and Every Day
About a year ago, I finally read Fast Food Nation and remembered one note during the trip: up until the rise of McDonalds and other chains, America consumed more pork than beef - and it wasn’t even close. Everyone knows our dear friends ham and bacon, but outside of a very occasional pork chop or BBQ item, I didn’t have much love for any other uses of pig - at least until now.

Some Midwestern genius decided to take a pork loin, beat it down into a thin circle about the size of a hubcap, bread it and fry it a la Chik-Fil-A and then rest its greasy remains on a tiny bun. It may sound questionable, but… Holy crap, is it ever delicious. They even slap on a few pickles just for fun. I am now considering writing my congressman to demand the creation of a Pork-Fil-A to bring this back home.

The fun doesn’t stop at pork though… Ever heard of Maid Rite? A quick glance at their Web site will tell you that they specialize in “loose-meat sandwiches”, but that is only half the story. They make a perfectly seasoned pile of ground beef, then place it on a buttered bun and add pickles and onions. You have the option of adding mustard or ketchup (but apparently ketchup was long frowned upon and only recently made available).

I know this sounds mediocre at best, but much like the pork tenderloin sandwich, this thing is bliss. In fact, you feel pretty good after the first one. But, if your wife challenges your manhood and dares you to eat another one before an hour-and-a-half car ride, stay strong. Otherwise, you will feel full for no less than two days.

Oh, and on a related note, the shakes at Maid Rite were the best I’ve ever had. We had a peanut butter and a butterscotch delivered from the counter and I nearly messed my pants when I took the first sip. I usually hate the Krusty brand partially gelatinated, non-dairy, gum-based beverages most folks seem to enjoy, but this was heaven.

We continued to eat around the state, and the final tally beyond what I just mentioned included a grilled pork loin sandwich, BBQ pork sandwich, grilled turkey breast, eggs, bacon, brisket, more brisket, sour cream apple pie and random local pizzerias. At the end of the trip, I had gained four pounds, but they quickly melted off once I got back to eating what doctors insist on labeling a “healthy diet.” So, the moral of the story is that you can just eat whatever you want and there will be no significant consequences.

On a related note, there are about 10,000 families in Iowa that look like the one Jeff Portnoy portrays in “The Fatties Fart 2” in Tropic Thunder. I guess that means the calorie exemption only applies to me, so suck it.

Lesson Three: Iowa Cares Not for Your Pity
When I told friends and family that I was going to Iowa for a week, the common reaction was the kind of pity usually reserved for departing soldiers and cancer victims. Everyone just assumed I’d be sitting in a cornfield slapping at my genitals. And while that did happen, it was far from the only thing to do in Iowa. Here’s just a couple of highlights:

• Iowa Cubs Baseball: I have had a bit of a baseball fascination this summer, so I was very excited to get to Des Moines and see the AAA Cubbies play. I had heard it was a great park and it did not disappoint. As we went to take a picture outside the stadium, I handed the camera to my mother-in-law and posed, only to notice a Texas Douche immediately walk by us and stop. I was torn. Do I get the camera back and pursue him, forcing myself to explain what I am doing to my UT-loving in-laws? I still regret taking the easy way out and letting him go, but I guess that’s why Rascal Flatts sings about the Broken Road and sodomy. Life is tough.
  The stadium had a strong food lineup - including Chicago-style hotdogs. These are freaking amazing. Hot peppers, chopped celery, seasoning salt and pickles are a pretty genius idea for garnish. The stadium also offered a cup of cookies to wash it all down. Yes, this is exactly what it sounds like: 15 soft chocolate chip cookies crammed in a cup and sold for $4. Jeff Portnoy was in heaven.

  The game itself was kind of sloppy and slow, but the bottom of the ninth brought great drama. Runner on second, two outs, 2-2 game. So Taguchi steps into the box. Wait…wha? That’s right, the Asian guy who won rings with Philly and St. Louis is now a Cubs farmhand, and his championship pedigree was on display as he knocked in the winning run. The experience was So surreal, So dramatic, So…Taguchi. (Yes, I hate myself for that, too.)

  

• Field of Dreams: The baseball weenie continued to flop in the wind as we loaded up the van with seven people to drive two hours to see this. Not even a six year old and an infant could stop us from frolicking with glee when we pulled into the site. It is exactly how it was in the movie. Corn still high around the edges. Perfectly maintained field. Wooden bleachers.And the best part is that, while it is a commercial destination, the owners refuse to charge admission or even allow the facility to be reserved. It’s a mix of kids, adults and bored women mixing openly on the grass, playing catch, hitting line drives to short, running the bases and walking slowly out of the corn  as cameras flash. I donned my Chris Davis shirt and even took a practice slide into home (Yeah, I never lost faith in him. What of it?)

  There were several rounds of catch with the nephew, brother-in-law and wife and a creepy ending when an old man and his wife offered us all packs of baseball cards he bought “just to hand out to kids of all ages.”

  Really nice man connecting to his past through baseball, or crazy pedophile? I’m going with the former, because the thought of predators prowling the Field of Freaking Dreams is a metaphor I’m not ready to accept.

• Architecture: I know this is not the site or target audience for this, but if you like old architecture or other similar feats of human craftsmanship, Iowa had some cool things to visit. The highlight was a basilica built in the 18th century by German settlers that has had yet to show a single crack in the foundation, and a Rock Grotto put together by a priest and a stone mason. (I kind of wished it would have been a freemason, but I don’t think the world was ready). Anyway, if you care about that stuff, you should definitely check them out. 
• Iowa Rock and Roll Hall of Fame: I’ll keep this short. Here are some coats old musicians wore when playing Iowa. They were so valuable to the musicians that they just left the coats behind. The Beatles were good. Here’s an old recording studio. And, oh, BTW, Slipknot is from Iowa. Here’s their Grammy.There - I just saved you the time and admission.

Lesson Four: Texas Douche is Unavoidable
As I mentioned before, Texas Douche was proudly walking among the good corn people, displaying his hats and t-shirts for all to see. At this point, there is not even suspense anymore in finding him.

Maybe there’s a lesson here. Maybe we are trying to deal with being the minority by labeling the majority unfavorably, which is in itself unfair. Perhaps we need to embrace him as one of our own and…

Nah- you know what? Fuck that guy. Fuck him right in the ear.

STOP WEARING TEXAS SHIT TO SPORTING EVENTS WITH NO CONNECTION TO THE UNIVERSITY OF TEXAS.

It’s not that hard.

Lesson Five: Know When to End a Long Blog Post

In this case… Now.