Walk the walk. Real hard when grandad dies an' leaves us 150 acres of cornfield and woods jus' cryin' to be turned into townhome estates. Mos' ol' timers hold onto their property and leave it to their chilrin. The kids got urban lifes an' don't wanna be bothered, so they sell off to speculators an' real estate bloodsuckers. If I knew who my daddy was, an' he left me some land, I'd keep it intact even after I'm takin' the long dirt nap.