What’s All This Then!

So today I tackled the lawn. Well, it was more like I tripped and fell spread eagle onto the grass. But the way I held onto that ground, if it had been running, you would’ve said that was a good tackle. To keep my mind from running away (which I explained in Part 1), I downloaded a podcast interview of Wiley Miller who writes and draws the great comic, Non Sequitur. This would have worked out very well — my body busy while my mind kept entertained. As I got set up, I realized why I haven’t used earbud headsets in many many years.

You see, I was born with a birth defect. But don’t feel sorry for me. It’s not one of those defects that get me into special parking spots or get me free money from the government and charity groups. I simply have smaller than normal ears. Often I have beautiful women telling how cute they find my ears to be. I learned long ago that they meant “cute” as in “let’s just be friends and nothing more.” I told you it was a defect. Although I completely don’t understand why they would want to be just friends. You know what they say about guys with little ears, don’t you. No? Neither do I … probably because I can’t hear very well what people whisper.

Anyway, in this day of modern technology and miracle cures, I can’t get those ear bud headsets to stay in my ears. There are those $300 varieties that even fetuses can wear as they listen to “Mozart for Intelligent Pre-Born”. But who has $300 just laying around? Certainly not fetuses. And definitely not me. Sometimes you have to come up with your own technological cures. In my case, I taped the ear pieces to the sides of my head. For a few minutes, I was able to listen to a podcast. In hindsight, I should have used duct tape wrapped completely around my head. Instead, as I began to sweat, the Scotch tape began to loosen from my ears. The headset began to shift gradually and then more dramatically. It got to the point where I would take a few steps and suddenly jerk to try catch the headset. To my neighbors, I must have looked like I was either having a seizure or dancing to a hip-hop song. In the end, I finished the lawn as a podcast concluded. It was very good. I think it was about people talking about something. It must have been very funny because I think I heard them laugh from time to time.

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First of all, I want to apologize to the children of my neighborhood. For the past seven years, I have been hiring any one of you when you offered to mow my yard. Since I didn’t have the time or a lawn mower, you helped protect me from the town’s lawn Nazis. It was well worth the $20 ($25 for those smooth talking hustlers out there).

This year I have a little more free time. I had to quit one of my side jobs when it began to cost me more money than I was earning. No employee should treat any large profitable corporation as a charity case. And I felt that Domino’s was making more than enough money by selling a $2 pizza for $15. The only time I raked in the dough while working for them was when I had to clean up a rack of fallen pizza patties.

So a few weeks ago, I used the money that would have benefited my neighborhood economy and bought a lawn mower. It took a little bit to convince myself. After all, who enjoys that mind numbing task of pushing a noisy machine along the ground. Oh sure, it was fun when we were three. But now I am an adult. Like my neighbors, I need to do my part to pollute the air while killing defenseless vegetation. Besides, I need the exercise.

I don’t know what goes through your mind as you mow your vast estate. I start out thinking about various design projects that I’m working on it. Soon my bored mind wanders and gets lost. I almost have to stop and put up those “missing brain” posters on telephone poles. “Have you seen my mind? Gray and easily distracted. Prone to following shiny objects, convoluted thoughts and women’s breasts. Reward possible. Call …” But then I think, “Oh, never … mind.”

Eventually I catch up to my wondering thoughts. Usually they’re in the midst of a Walter Mitty type adventure. You know, those inspiring daydreams of “what I would do if I were all rich and powerful.” In that world, I’m saving it from all sorts of evil, righting all sorts of wrongs, and being the kind of super guy that that men are jealous of and women long for. Kind of a letdown when the lawn mower makes a horrible crunching noise when it hits that tree stump or neighborhood cat. Instantly, I’m returned back to reality where I’m only saving the town from grass and weeds that are taller than 6 inches.

There seems to be nothing this town fears more than grass and weeds that are over regulation height. Their only defense is official named Earl who will descend upon your yard with bright pink citations. He has found that threats of extortion for the town’s coffers usually do a good job in taming wild lawn growth … and justify his phony-baloney job.

Anyway, in the classical battle of man verses authority, nature, and himself, who will prevail? All will be revealed in Part 2, including a serious personal flaw (besides this blog) …

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