Thursday, June 25, 2015

Push Mower?


            About a month before I made my trek to Canada to go fishing, I had a problem with my push mower.  That first line is a laugh, so you might want to read that again.  My “push” mower.  We don’t have push mowers.  I haven’t had a push mower since I was in my twenties.  I have a “hold on and walk behind” mower.  I smoke a cigar and look around as the mower does the rest.  I might also mention that most of the ideas I get for posts on this blog come when I am cutting the grass, so I find it ironic that now I am writing a post about my lawn mower.

            One fine day, the control cable on the self-propelled unit broke.  I am quite content to change the oil, the plug, the air filter, sharpen the blade, etc., but anything past that, forget it.  I am not a mechanic.  I took the cover off and discovered the broken cable and said out loud, “Well, lookie there, a broken cable.  Over my head.  I guess it’s going to the guy down the street.”

            I put the cover back on and promptly cut the grass the old fashioned way, by pushing the lawn mower.  Wow, was I spoiled!  It felt as though I were pushing my Kia across the yard.  Instead of smoking my cigar, I found myself chewing it.  Sweat poured off me like Niagara.  It really was sad.  I think my neighbors were watching and laughing.  Not sure about that, but pretty sure.  A couple of them are pretty sadistic.  When I finished, I wanted to go fall in my pool, but I didn’t have the energy.  I thought I might drown.  I’m too heavy for my grandkid’s floaties to work on me.  I would just drown nearer the surface.

            I took the mower to a little elderly guy just out of the subdivision who has a shop.  A real pleasant man who said he would order the part and get it fixed for me.  I checked back with him after a week, when my grass needed cutting again.  He said he hadn’t gotten the part in yet.  “Sometimes it takes a couple weeks from these guys.”  Really?  What is so special about a lawn mower cable?

            Bill, my neighbor across the street, knew about my mower and had offered the use of his mower ahead of time.  The next day I took him up on his offer.  He didn’t warn me about his mower.  I broke out my cigar, gassed up his mower and decided to start with my back yard.  I fired it up.  Very easy to start.  Quiet engine, controls were at my fingertips.  Here we go.

            I lit my cigar and grabbed the bar to start the self-propelled part of the mower.  Holy crap!  This mower was on steroids.  This had to be the world’s fastest push mower.  No joke, I had to be going twice as fast as I was with my lawn mower.  I needed to be on rollerblades.  I was flying.  Normally I can finish my cigar in the time it takes to do my lawn.  Not this time.  I could have done my lawn and a neighbor’s.  As for thinking about blog posts, forget it.  No time.  I had to concentrate on what I was doing.  I was worried about crashing into things.

            I took that innocent looking mower back to my neighbor and prayed mine would be ready before the grass grew again.  Before I left for Canada, I went back to check.  “Nope, still no part.”  Apparently, this part was coming from a country occupied by ISIS.  I also found out later that the Pony Express is alive and well.  They shipped it by them across the Atlantic.  Yep, really.  I even went to Leslie’s Pool Supplies to check and yes, indeed, they have water wings for horses.

            While I was away, my dear Lana borrowed Bill’s lawn mower and used it.  I wish I could have seen that.  She is 5’2”.  She had to have been jogging behind it.  That is NOT a push mower.  

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