The Legend of Maynard Tumbleweed

Everyone is familiar with the legend of Johnny Appleseed, but less well-known is the legend of his distant cousin, Maynard Tumbleweed. While Johnny planted apple seedlings throughout America's heartland, Maynard embarked on his own crusade further west, spreading tumbleweeds as far as the eye could see. His seldom told story teaches a valuable lesson in dedication, perseverance and, above all, dealing with idiots.

Maynard's inspiration came when he was barely twenty years old. In a vision, a goddess appeared before him and said:

"Hark."

Maynard, unaccustomed to goddesses, let alone anyone who uses the word "hark", dropped to his knees and bowed his head. "Yes, goddess?"

"Maynard, thou shalt roam throughout the west, sowing tumbleweed seeds wherever thou goeth. From Nebraska to Oregon. From Arizona to Montana. Thou shalt grace the land far and wide with countless glorious tumbleweeds."

As the goddess faded, Maynard pondered her mysterious decree.

The next day, he walked to the general store and up to the counter. "Ralph, I need a hundred million tumbleweed seeds."

The storekeeper gulped. "What the blazes for?"

"I will journey west, spreading tumbleweeds wherever I may wander."

Ralph scratched his head. "Aren’t there already enough of them suckers?"

"That's irrelevant. It is my assigned quest and I must honor it."

"Well, it's a pretty tall order. I think I can get 'em but it'll take a couple weeks."

Maynard nodded. "That's fine. It will give me time to plan my upcoming trek."

Maynard went home and prepared for his epic voyage. He sold all his belongings, earning just enough to buy the seeds. He next wrote a letter to his cousin, Johnny Appleseed, asking for advice. Within a few days he received a response:

Hey Maynard,

Long time no see. My advice to you? Don't waste your time. I've been planting these god-forsaken seeds my whole life, and for what? All I got out of the deal was some lame statue of me in the town square. I thought I'd at least get reimbursed. But nooo! The gods and goddesses were engaged in deficit reduction talks and rejected my request. So if you want a decent life, screw all the noble gestures. You only live once, man. Go out and party.
Later,
John

Maynard was heartbroken to see his cousin had become so cynical. Nevertheless, he remained steadfast, and swore to carry out his obligation.

When the big day came, Maynard brought his meager savings to the store and purchased the seeds. He threw the huge sack over his shoulder and headed west.

Day after day, he toiled in the dust, heat, and rain, braving encounters with bears and Mormons. His beard grew long, his clothes became tattered, and his body grew thin and bent. Despite the overwhelming hardships, he persevered, planting seeds across the vast western prairies.

Everywhere Maynard traveled, people marveled at his determination. "What is he planting?" they asked themselves. "Corn? Asparagus? Some delicious strawberries perhaps? I guess we will see come fall."

Maynard labored for months and, by summer's end, beheld the fruits of his labor. Increasingly, tumbleweeds rolled throughout the western plains, eroding the topsoil, clogging up farming equipment and, in general, getting in everone's way. 

As people began to notice the burgeoning tumbleweed population, they put two and two together and said, "Hmm. We didn't have so many of these cursed things before that skinny guy came around with his sack of seeds." Soon a vigilante mob formed to track down Maynard and get their revenge.

Maynard had fulfilled his mission and was well along his way home when the posse caught up and surrounded him. The leader approached Maynard. "I'm Sheriff Bunson and these people are the enraged populace. We wanna know why the hell you did that tumbleweed thing."

Maynard, too tired to argue, merely said, "I had no choice. A goddess commanded me to do it."

The sheriff sneered and reached down toward his holster. As Maynard stepped back in horror, the crowd, smelling blood, shouted their approval. The sheriff pulled a document from his belt, thrust it toward Maynard, and said, "This court-ordered injunction identifies you as the defendant in our class action suit. You must pay full compensatory damages or face seizure of your assets."

Relieved, Maynard laughed. "Can't you see I'm broke?" To emphasize his plight, he turned his pant pockets inside out and held up his hands. "I'm an impoverished wanderer."

The vigilantes glanced at each other and huddled together to plan their next move. After taking a vote, they approached Maynard, beat the daylights out of him, and rode back to their farms and villages.

Battered and broken, Maynard staggered home.

The next night, as he lay in agony, the goddess returned.

"So didst thou spread the tumbleweeds far and wide?"

Maynard sat up in his bed and glowered at the goddess.

She raised her eyebrows. "Why glowereth thee so?"

"Nobody wants those damn tumbleweeds. I slaved away for months, only to get beat up."

The goddess frowned. "Apparently I overestimated the common people’s intelligence. They don't realize tumbleweeds are a thing of beauty." She gazed wistfully into the distance. "They roll so majestically across the panoramic plains. They adorn the countryside with a delightful ambience. They are--"

"They're a pain in the ass." Maynard stood and poked his finger toward her. "You know nothing about tumbleweeds, yet you had me spread them across half the country."

The goddess cleared her throat. "Well, perhaps we can disregard the tumbleweed issue for the time being. However, I now commandeth thee to plant dandelion seeds throughout the Mid-Atlantic States and--"

"Plant them yourself."

She gasped. "Thou darest defy a goddess?"

"This is America. We defy everything. And knock it off with the "thee's and thou's" crap. It's irritating"

"But...but..."

"Ya’know, we regular people know what we want, and it sure ain't your condescending, self-serving schemes. We want justice and a decent life.” Maynard took a step toward her. “If you aristocratic gods and goddesses ever come down to the real world, we just might listen to you. Until then, bugger off."

Taken aback, the goddess paused before responding. "So is asking you to spread ragweed pollen throughout the Great Lakes Region out of the question?"

Without answering, Maynard crossed his arms and glared.

As the goddess hung her head and flittered away, Maynard lay back down and fell asleep, a sadder but wiser man.