Anyone with a pulse saw, or heard about, the Super Bowl commercial for Ram (nee Dodge). Here is the only place you can find the “So God Made A Farmer” script for the actual Paul Harvey voiceover excerpt that was used for the spot.
AND you get a bonus: Little does anyone know that Paul Harvey repeated his speech the following week at an industry convention of advertising agency executives.
Here then, first, is the “So God Made A Farmer” script used in the Ram Super Bowl commercial:
And on the eighth day…
God looked down on his planned paradise and said, "I need a caretaker." So God made a farmer.
God said, "I need somebody willing to get up before dawn, milk cows, work all day in the fields, milk cows again, eat supper then go to town and stay past midnight at a meeting of the school board." So God made a farmer.
God said, "I need somebody willing to sit up all night with a newborn colt. And watch it die. And dry his eyes and say, 'Maybe next year.' I need somebody who can shape an ax handle from a persimmon sprout, shoe a horse with a hunk of car tire, who can make harness out of haywire, feed sacks and shoe scraps. who, planting time and harvest season, will finish his 40-hour week by Tuesday noon, and then, painin' from tractor back, put in another 72 hours.” So God made a farmer.
God said, "I need somebody strong enough to clear trees and heave bails, yet gentle enough to yean lambs and wean pigs and tend the pink-combed pullets, who will stop his mower for an hour to splint the broken leg of a meadowlark.” So God made a farmer.
It had to be somebody who'd plow deep and straight and not cut corners. Somebody to seed, weed, feed, breed and rake and disc and plow and plant and tie the fleece and strain the milk.”
“Somebody who'd bale a family together with the soft strong bonds of sharing, who would laugh and then sigh, and then reply, with smiling eyes, when his son says that he wants to spend his life 'doing what dad does.'" So God made a farmer."
Now, from the newly discovered transcript of Paul Harvey, speaking just one week later:
And on the eighth day…
God looked down on his planned paradise and said, “I need someone to help me sell this stuff.” So God made an advertising agency. Then God made an account executive to run it.
God said, “I need somebody willing to get up before dawn, check email, work all day in the cubicles, check email again, eat half a cup of Greek yogurt, then go to town and stay past midnight at a boring dinner meeting with blowhard clients.” So God made an account exec.
God said, “I need somebody willing to sit up all night with a PowerPoint deck…and watch his boss kill it first thing the next morning…and dry his eyes and say: ‘Maybe next version.’ I need somebody who can shape a scope of work from a thin-as-ice project brief, write a creative brief from a hunk of made-up insights, who can draft copy out of half-assed product names, half-baked customer personas and half-cocked client ideas. Who, planning time and budget season will finish his 80-hour week by Tuesday noon and then, painin’ from smartphone thumb, put in another 72 hours.” So God made an account exec.
God said, “I need somebody strong enough to clear calendar conflicts and heave 3-foot-by-6-foot story boards, yet gentle enough to yean account supes and wean AAEs and tend the pink-combed strategic planners. Who will stop staring at his iPhone for an hour to splint the broken ego of a freelance creative.” So God made an account exec.
It had to be somebody who’d talk deep and straight and know which corners to cut. Somebody to shill, spill, till, bill and call, and fly, and meet, and deal, and tie the loose ends and strain the client’s bullsh&t.
Somebody who’d bale an account team together with the soft, strong bonds of alcohol, who would laugh, and then sigh…and then reply…with smiling eyes…when his son says…that he would kill himself or at least poke his eyes out with two blunt sticks before he chose to spend his life… doing what Dad does: “So go be a farmer, then.”