Q: Where does gardening fall on the scale of magnificent bastardom? Specifically, the desire to dig in dirt, tend, watch, and enjoy growing your own fruits and vegetables and the occasional flowering plant (and yes, even more butch plants like arbor vitae).
A: Gardening has some theoretical virtues. The English love it, it involves primarily natural materials, it presupposes land ownership. But we have trouble getting past the clogs, which are basically Crocs for land-lubbers. And our manicurist, who is frankly a bit of an underachiever, hates it when we come in with dirt under our fingernails. Thus we prefer agriculture on a larger, noisier scale -- anything, in short, that gives us a chance to operate a chainsaw, threshing machine, or drag harrow.