A city man was visiting a small farm in rural North Carolina. He wore shiny loafers, a polo shirt tucked in a little too confidently, and had a GPS that described dirt roads as “unacceptable terrain.”
While walking around the farm, amazed that eggs didn’t come pre-scrambled, he noticed the farmer doing something very strange.
The old farmer was standing beside a pigpen, holding a pig under one arm and patiently feeding it apples directly from an apple tree.
The pig would take one bite of an apple at a time. Once it had eaten the apple down to the core, the farmer would put that pig down, pick up another one, and repeat the process.
Each pig was getting VIP treatment, as if it were dining at a fancy orchard restaurant.
The city man scratched his head and adjusted his sunglasses.
“Excuse me, sir,” he said as the farmer lifted another large pig. “Why are you feeding them apples like that? Isn’t it terribly time-consuming?”
The farmer calmly looked at him.
“Yep.”
The city man blinked.
“I mean, wouldn’t it be much faster to shake the tree, let the apples fall, and let the pigs eat them off the ground?”
The farmer stared at him for a moment, squinting as if he had just been told tractors run on espresso.
“Well, I reckon it might save time,” he said slowly, “but what’s time to a pig?”
The city man opened his mouth, then closed it.
He tilted his head, tried to make sense of the answer, and came up with nothing.
Trying again, he said, “But you could feed all of them in minutes instead of hours.”
The farmer nodded.
“True. But then what would I do all day? Read the stock market?”
The city man wasn’t sure whether to laugh or call a time-management coach.
Just then, another pig gave a happy snort and wandered away after finishing its apple.
The farmer smiled.
“These pigs are happy. I’m happy. You’re confused. I’d say the system is working just fine.”
With that, he picked up the next pig, carried it over to the tree, and began the feeding ritual all over again.
The city man left the farm with more questions than answers, a strong craving for apples, and a newfound respect for anyone with that much patience—and upper-body strength.