Toby's walking a little ahead of Josh and Cathy, a local farmer, near the parking area. Cathy thinks Toby seems a little tense and wants to know why. Well, the real answer is that he's Toby, but Josh says it's because POTUS is speaking. Cathy calls ahead to Toby, "Why aren't you there?" Toby says it's tough to explain. Josh tells Cathy that it isn't. Toby stops and shushes Josh, trying to make out what POTUS is saying in the distance. Toby says "Okay," and starts walking again. He seems annoyed, but I can't tell if it's because he couldn't hear POTUS or because he could. Josh tells Cathy that POTUS has his blood pressure taken every morning: "On higher blood pressure days, Toby's not allowed to be in the President's sightline while he's speaking." That doesn't seem like information they should be casually disclosing to Indiana farmers. Toby complains, I believe about something he's heard Jed say: "He stepped on it." Josh to Cathy: "He has trouble concealing his displeasure." Toby: "Stepped on it, and he knows it, too."
Cathy says, "Look," stopping to talk with Josh as Toby wanders off. Josh asks, "What do I say to people who ask why we subsidize farmers when we don't subsidize plumbers?" Cathy: "Tell them they can pay seven dollars for a potato." Josh chuckles. Cathy says that there are 200 acres of soy fields on their farm, which nets her family thirty dollars an acre. I know you can do the math: $6000 a year. That's just sickening. It's been both scary and painful as hell to watch family farms destroyed as things have changed in North America over the last few decades. Farming has always been a very hard way to make a living, but at least it used to be theoretically possible to do so, and occasionally, even financially rewarding. Every farmer I know has a second job. I don't think any of the farmers I know want their children to choose farming for a living. The most lucrative thing you can do with a farm in many places is sell it to a developer and let them build some ugly bunch of monster homes on it. Toby hushes Cathy again. He listens to POTUS, then says that he worked with the Conference Committee to increase payment limits to small farmers, and they'd have done it, too, if they could have agreed on the definition of "small."
Just then Donna comes over to hustle them off. Cathy tells Toby, "You seem pissed that I brought it up." Toby says he's not, that they're just talking. Donna says that they've really gotta go. She seems a little frenzied about it. Josh explains to Cathy that Donna's nervous, because when they were in Kentucky recently a couple of guys got left behind when the motorcade took off. Donna corrects him, saying it was Tennessee, and that they were never heard from again. Josh: "They took a cab." Cathy doesn't care about all that, and who can blame her? Her family works twenty hours a day for $6000 a year. Josh tells Cathy that whatever definition the Committee had come up with would simply have created more business for the lawyers of big farm corporations. Josh says he wishes they could have had more time to talk. Cathy pleads, "There's no way you guys could stay a little -- meet some people, maybe catch up with the campaign at the next stop?" Josh says they've got another stump in Unionville, and then they get on the plane, because they've got a full schedule in the office. Cathy: "We've got some voters here, Josh. Did you forget?" Josh says he didn't. Toby claims they're voting for Writchie (tm sobell -- I think). Toby says that Indiana is voting for Writchie, and that if there were someone less competent than him, they'd vote for that candidate. Cathy: "Why'd you come out here?" She seems surprisingly comfortable in talking to them this way. Toby would like an answer to that question himself. She says that he can write off Indiana, but that he shouldn't write off small farmers: "It's getting bad out here. It is bad out here." Josh counters, "We paid farmers $67 billion last year." Cathy mutters, "Oh, God," and walks on ahead in disgust.