I’m going to tell you a secret. Oh, it’s nothing nefarious or secretive. It’s just something I decided to do a few years ago and it hasn’t been a tremendous success. I’m getting older you know. People usually are nice enough that they say, “You’re not getting older, you’re just maturing.” Yes I am, although I wouldn’t call it maturing. It’s more like I try to deny the shooting pain in my back or the fact that my lawn is not getting taller, it’s just getting harder to mow.
I have given this a great deal of thought, but if you know me very well you are probably familiar with the fact that I don’t always think things through. I remember when I moved to Gonzales. It’s about the only thing I can remember. I moved into my house and knew I would have to get something growing next to the front door, so I planted my lawn with seeds. None of that weed-infested slabs of crab grass you can buy anywhere. I was going to have an award-winning lawn.
I raked the seeds into the rich dirt of our wonderful valley, put in sprinklers all around the outside perimeter and sat back to watch my grass grow into an emerald shaded color that just advertised that the grower of this land knew what he was doing. But then things started growing, really fast! I didn’t even have to water the fescue seeds that I had hired a master gardener to throw out on the dirt that was itching to grow.
Well, the dirt wasn’t the thing that was growing. Beautiful grass poked their head out of the ground and invited all the weeds that were lonesome to just get on board. I tell you it was a lawn of a man who knows how to grow grass. Then, another mistake poked its head out of the rich dark earth of the Salinas Valley.
The lawn was to actually perform two different jobs. To add to the look of my house and to help me get those pesky muscles I lost from not working out. I bought a push mower that was going to make up for all the lack of exercise I had been missing. I won’t keep you in suspense. I sold the mower for a loss just to get rid of it. Have you ever mowed your lawn with a push mower?
So, since I had sold the mower, I went out to get the next best thing. I bought an electric mower. Yeah, I know Gov. Newsom would have been proud. Back in those days, they didn’t have these super batteries that Elon Musk uses in his rocket ships. You had to carry the cord with you, trying to keep it from becoming tangled. Throw the cord one way when you went down the yard and throwing it another way on your way back. Have you ever run over an electric cord with a lawnmower? It makes a cool noise and shoots up a lot of smoke and sparks.
After the boys were born, I got a little help with my pride. Notice the descriptor. The boys were just a gift from heaven. Boy children allow you to teach different ways than you would if they were girls. My lovely daughter would have mowed that lawn quick as a wink if I had just mentioned it. The boys, though, they were different. Money couldn’t buy their work. They knew, if they just stayed out of the sun, that I would go ahead and mow it.
Why am I telling you all these things about my lawn? It’s because I just got through mowing it, again. My wife, who is the hardest working woman I have ever known, would have mowed it if I had just suggested, but I just couldn’t ask, as she always has a meal ready for her men; OK, her man. I couldn’t ask my sons as they were both busy trying to stay out of my sight, and truth be told they don’t live here anymore.
I spoke with a few guys about how nice the weather was today. Well, I don’t have to tell you about our evening breezes that daintily leap and frolic down the valley. Yes, it was cold! I almost pulled the old man murmur, “I’m getting older and can’t recover very easily.” Would you believe that I discovered another fact about our lovely family? Children don’t care if you are old or sore. Well, they care, but it is more fun to trick me into believing they were doing something for their mother.
I might not have told you, the real reason for my complaining is that I am genuinely sick. I have been sick for the past two to three months. Did you notice I wrote months? In today’s field of medicine, you might think I was just imagining that I am sick. With all the miracle medicines, no body should be sick for that long of a period. Trust me, I am sure that there must be some cure for my ailment out there. I mean, I can’t be the only guy that has had the problem I have now.
Of course, one of the reasons I have been sick for such a long time is that I am on a government medical treatment. Due to all the things I ate or drank while serving our country in a war that no one wanted or were sure how to win, I contracted bugs that stay with you for a while. So the government says, “Since you served so gallantly, we’ll take care of you and your medical needs.” That’s called socialized medicine, so to speak.
The only problem is that I have to travel up to Palo Alto to see my doctor. By the way, they didn’t really say, “Gallantly.” I was the one who came up with that. Anytime you see the word gallantly, better stay away.
God Bless.
