the yard


The other day i found myself at home depot on a Friday night staring at leaf blowers. The store was mostly empty, and there was a surprisingly large selection of leaf blowers. But which one was right for me? Peer pressure can make a man do strange, unnatural things.

What was i doing there? Is there anything more pointless than a leaf-blower? In terms of return on investment per time spent in the yard, you can blow your entire yard clean, only to have it all return over night, like magic. When I was a young child, I can recall many days spent staring out the window as the neighbors waged war on tiny grass clippings and miscellaneous yard debris. It all looked so ridiculous, and I swore I would never waste any of my precious time on this planet engaged in a task so suburban and vacant.

And yet, I am now the owner of my very own leaf blower. Has post-graduation working life already become so monotonous that I am this concerned with the location of leaves in my yard? I know the answer is "no" - I like my job, and I like owning a house. What I hate, however, is the yard, or, more to the point, I hate everyone else's yard.

Every yard on my street is perfect. Sprinkler systems run constantly, trucks come and go, men hop in and out of the trucks and tend to the yards like the most delicate sculptures. And everyone has all the latest yard accessories: fertilizer spreader thingies, weed-eaters, edgers, ride-on mowers equipped with portable DVD players and GPS systems.

I own a mower. I do not have a yard crew, a yard team, or even a yard guy. It's me and the cheapest mower I could find. This, it seems to me, is all that needs to happen in a yard: grass grows, man cuts grass. The end. Somewhere my street decided that yards need to foster a sense of pride or community or something, and somewhere it got competitive.

A recent patch of dry weather and Texas sun caused a portion of my yard to turn a most ghastly shade of brownish-yellow. I was outside, getting something out of my car, when my neighbor happened by with his two inbred designer dogs. He paused and made polite small talk (the pretext) before commenting on my grass. "Ewwww... Gonna have to get that taken care of, huh?" I didn't know what to say. "Um, yeah, I guess," was the best I could do.

I guess this is what it's all about, then. My brownish-yellow patch is an embarrassment to the community. My neighbor's comment has sparked something in me, something that can only be described as the most primitive suburban urge for complete and total landscape domination.

I've got a leaf blower now. And soon there will be more equipment. I'm building an army, and soon squirrel s and other area wildlife will engage in epic wars to gain the right to live in my trees and shit on my driveway. Neighbors will nod in approval, and god help the unfortunate soul with a patch of brown grass.

yay t.v.!

Aside from live sports, there is increasingly less and less on t.v. that i have any interest in watching. It would seem that the quest for novel concepts often results in a product that, well, is either so bad it's good, or it is just plain bad. A few things from the new fall lineup caught my eye:

Kid Nation: I don't really care what this show is about, or what happens when little Timmy gets wailed on by some bully, or when Junior finds hair growing in strange places. But wow - talk about a sweet deal for the parents. "You mean, you'll take my kid for 40 days? No parents around? Just tv cameras? There sure are a lot of waivers to sign, but sweet!" What a great idea - let's just let the kids run around, no script, maybe amp them up with sugar and prescription medication, and then wait for some Lord of the Flies style entertainment.

Cavemen: I swear this show was a commercial. Are you kidding me! This is proof that I, too, can be a producer. I can think of like eleven commercials that could transition to t.v. show and be more successful. A few examples: the "where's the beef?" lady could spend at least three seasons looking for the beef - imagine the possibilities! She could even find the beef on the series finale! Or, the little butterfly from the Lunesta commercials, the one that puts everyone to sleep - THAT is a character with rich potential capable of winning multiple emmys--maybe even a film franchise. The neon green butterfly (or "luna moth" for all you who give a shit about being precise) would go around, listening to people's problems, stealing their souls and maybe the butterfly would have a friend. I don't know. The point is, t.v. sucks.

"I am coming to eat your SOUL!"

um... i don't know... can't we just put Oreos on some crust?

When commercials come on, if I forget to mute the t.v., i am often disturbed. It would seem that our nation's chain restaurants are at it again. Each chain now seems to possess a giant wheel, pioneered by the people at taco bell, with various food ingredients. Once a month, the powers-that-be spin the wheel twice (or maybe three times!) and then strive to create a product incorporating said ingredients. Because of this, we now all know the pain of the chocolate-covered gummi bear (muddy bears! mmm!), the McGriddle sandwich, and now the new king of fastfood fusion gone awry: the oreo pizza.

Seriously? That is probably the sickest thing i have ever seen. Get it while supplies last...

viva france

So, I finally got around to watching the latest Michael Moore documentary, Sicko, and all I have to say is that it is the type of movie that everyone should see, regardless of their feelings about Moore's political agenda. Beyond his pandering (though his volume was turned down significantly in this film) lies the simple truth: our country's health care is messed up.

I don't claim to be any expert on health care, politics, etc., but the simple stories that Moore uses work to convey a much larger point - we treat poor people like shit because it's good business, and because they have limited resources to demand otherwise.

I am now anxiously awaiting my first encounter with an HMO, and I am terrified.