In this parody of SCTV’s Tex and Edna Boil we have some tongue-in-cheek fun while reminding people to maintain a healthy skepticism when reading RPAS marketing materials. Always be sure to ask questions and see the data before you believe what might be too good to be true.
Special thanks to Jason Strove for his masterful post-editing magic.
We were long overdue for a new classic rock parody, so we decided to re-tackle one of the greatest rock ballads ever written. With the ongoing success of drop pipes (aka drop arms, drop legs, etc.) in corn, we’re promoting directed spraying in verse.
If you’d like to read more about the research, check out this article, and this one too. Farmtario also wrote a nice summary from one of our 2022 demos.
So, this was a tough one, but we feel good about how we laminated a new message over Zeppelin’s tricky cadence and rhymes. It helps if you play the actual song as you read. Rock on:
There’s a grower who’s sure
all corn glitters like gold
and he’s spraying from seven to seven.
When he’s done, then he knows
that the products he chose
will handle the pests that he sprayed for.
Ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh
And he’s spraying from seven to seven.
He sees signs on them all
but he wants to be sure
‘cause he knows bug poop means that they’re feeding.
So, he stops for a look
spits and wipes as he should
sometimes all of his thoughts are misgivings.
Ooh, it makes him wonder
Ooh, it makes him wonder
There’s a feeling he gets
when the silks seem too wet
and his scouting is slowly revealing.
In his fields he has seen
in the irrigation rings
that tarspot’s in the plot where he’s standing.
Ooh, it makes him wonder
Ooh, it really makes him wonder
Maybe he sprayed the corn too soon
Or too late, it could be too
‘cause the timing defies common reason.
And he goes back in the dawn
to see what else has gone wrong
and his checks echo pests that he’s after.
Oh whoa-whoa-whoa, oh-oh
If there’s cutworm in your corn row, don’t be alarmed now.
It may have been coverage or timing.
But there’s a new way, you can spray now, and in the long run
there’s time to change the for the next season.
And it makes him wonder
Oh, whoa
Overhead spraying is a no-go
in case you don’t know
drop pipes are calling you to try them.
Diseases come in when the wind blows
but did you know
drop pipes cover stalks from end-to-end.
So, as you drive on down the row
overhead spray just won’t go
deep into targets, we all know
are hard to hit deep down below.
Next year he can still have gold.
Using drop pipes isn’t hard.
Coverage will come to him at last.
Quick to mount, one and all, yeah
They barely rock as sprayers roll.
And he’s using drops from seven to seven.
Sung to the tune of “If I had a Rocket Launcher” by Bruce Cockburn
Here comes the John Deere sprayer — second time today;
All the insects scatter and hope it goes away;
How many larvae murdered only Dow can say;
If I had a low drift nozzle… I’d make somebody spray.
I don’t believe in modes of action and I don’t believe in rates;
I don’t believe in agronomists or their shiny steely spades;
And when I talk with the survivors of that crappy bran bait;
If I had a low drift nozzle… I would calibrate.
On canola field margins one hundred thousand wait;
Smash through truck radiators — or some less humane fate;
Cry for bertha armyworm, sprayed with organophosphate;
If I had a low drift nozzle… I would not hesitate.
I want to raise every chirp — at least I’ve got to try;
Every time I see them munching, with my compound eyes;
Situation desperate, echoes of the hoppers cry;
If I had a low drift nozzle… Some CCA would die.
Here’s our rendition of the Christmas classic: ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas… but with a bit of a sprayer-winterizing twist. You can hear us read it in the audio bar below, read it yourself, or watch as the talented Bridgette Readel (@bmreadel) reads it to you (end of article). Happy holidays from Sprayers101!
‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the farm
No sprayers were stirring, not even a Dramm
The nozzles were stored in a bucket with care
In the hopes that the herbicides were no longer there
The impeller spun freely in its little bed
We can’t spray next year if the controller is dead
I took off my gloves and my PPE cap
As the sprayer settled down for a long winter’s nap
When from under the hood there arose such a clatter
I sprang back to the cab to see what was the matter
Away to the ladder I flew with a flash
Tripped over clean filters and swore as I crashed
The light from my smartphone held up from below
Gave a luster of mid-day so I could behold
Some movement above as my vision did clear
Eight mice moving ‘round in the engine and gears
With a flash of their tails, so lively and quick
I knew that our cat wasn’t doing the trick
More rapid than eagles my curses they came
I remembered my checklist with each point by name:
But I’d forgotten to mouse-proof… dash it all
And then came a scratching from up near the roof
The cat was responding, no longer aloof
Down from the rafters she came with a bound
She coiled as she listened to each squeaking sound
Her claws sprang to life from the tip of each foot
Her fur was all matted with ashes and soot
Her eyes, how they twinkled, her visage so scary
She grinned like the cat that had ate the canary
She leaped over me and into the fray
The mice scampered past, running every which way
One ran up my leg and jumped onto to a shelf
And I screamed when I saw them in spite of myself
Then the cat reappeared strutting all ‘round my head
And I lay there, and knew there was nothing to dread
As I climbed to my knees, I felt I had shirked
Steel wool and some traps would have probably worked
Then the cat rubbed against my legs with her nose
I reached out to pet her, as I slowly rose
And that’s when she bit me and hissed like a kettle
I jumped up too fast and my head hit the metal
As I swayed back and forth the cat ran out of sight
I’m getting a dog by the end of the night
Never fail, as spring turns to summer we get questions about algal growth in water tanks. There are lots of suggested solutions, but questions about pH antagonism and phytotoxicity seem to linger. In 2021/22 we ran trials to explore how well home-grown algicides like copper, bleach, and ammonia work, and whether they cause antagonistic responses when that carrier water is used on crops. You can see the results here.
Anticipating those results, we wrote this parody on a Stone’s classic. Not long after it was brought to life by the brilliant minds behind Michigan’s epic podcast “The Vegetable Beet” (Go subscribe right now!). You can hear it in the link below, where Ben Phillips is accompanied by his daughter’s toy tambourine. Crank it up to 11!
You can even download Ben’s sheet music here.
I see a white tank and I want it painted black
No algae anymore, I want my water back
I see the cart drive up while spraying summer rows
I have to dump it out until the algae goes
I see my neighbours’ tanks and they’re all painted black
With copper sulfate they claim algae won’t come back
I see them turn their heads and quickly look away
They see my algae grow in sunlight every day
I look inside the tank to see if it is black
I could park it in the shed, or in the shade out back
Maybe then it’ll fade away and I can face the facts
It’s not easy filling up when your filters plug with crap
I wish that my green sea would turn a deeper blue
If you try chlorine pucks it will clear up for you
I’ll store my tanks away from that bright summer sun
Then I’ll spray algae-free before the mornin’ comes
I see a clean tank ‘cause I had it painted black
No algae anymore, I got my water back
I see the cart drive up while spraying summer rows
Clear water coming out, and no more clogging woes
Hmm, hmm, hmm
Hmm, hmm, hmm
Hmm, hmm, hmm
Hmm, hmm, hmm
I want to see your tank painted black!
Black as night!
Black as coal!
I wanna see the bugs, knocked right out of the sky
I wanna see it painted, painted, painted black, yea!