Open letter to the F**ktard who cruised by the cabin on Saturday

Dear FT,

As Fiance and I were sitting outside enjoying the weather on Saturday at my family’s cabin, you cruised by in a pontoon with what I assume was your wife. You were assessing properties, and said to your companion that our cabin was “a waste of a good lot.” I’m not sure if you meant for us to hear that, but we did.

The cabin has been in the family for 80 to 100 years. There is no running water and we use an outhouse. No one in the family wishes to use the cabin in the winter, and it is too far away to become a commute possibility for anyone, so there is little point in updating it.

Beyond that, I have concern for your assessment of what makes a good cabin. There are all kinds of people in lake country. Most of them are rich and build some rather lavish monstrosities. That’s fine for them, and I appreciate different ways of living. We happen to appreciate a simpler lifestyle at the lake. No cable, no plumbing, curtains instead of doors for the bedrooms. We get a lot of reading done and board games played. It may not be the prettiest old building around, but it serves its purpose and we like it.

I know if my dad and uncle sold the property, the new owner would quickly demolish the building to build something new. That would be a shame.

I’m glad that there are some people that appreciate older houses. Our country doesn’t have a lot of history to begin with. I enjoy the character I get from living in a house made in 1929 and am glad that the owners before me kept those older attributes when possible.

Take a trip to Europe – any city will do. Walk around and marvel that many of the buildings around you were built before the pilgrims landed in America. For some reason, Europeans don’t think of old buildings as wastes of space, but something worth preserving. Just walking through a city, you can appreciate the long and wonderful history of space, something that’s difficult to get here in the Midwest, although there are some great places on the East Coast that also have a sense of history.

When we visit the lake for a couple weekends a year, it’s nice to look at the cupboards and know that they have been used by my great grandmother, the water pump that my siblings and I would take turns using to fill the drinking bucket, the outhouse filled with spiders that caused childhood nightmares. Memories and place connect with unseen and imagined history in older places in ways that are fascinating to some people, but not you.

Before you condemn a place because it isn’t made to your modern sensibilities, just take a moment to keep your spew-trap buttoned, bend over, and screw yourself.

Sincerely,

Fargo Jones