Another grass-related story from the Fort-Wayne "News-Sentinel" Wed, June 21, 2006...

Lawrence of Suburbia: Lawn care without Lacerations
By Kurt Wilson ("Lawrence of Suburbia")


When we moved to the 'burbs I contracted the husband's curse - a yard. So, I was forced to acquire lawn care equipment: a mower, a blower and other noisy, smoke-belching devices all with the same basic function - getting me off my tush.
As the season of high grass and even higher pollen counts is upon us I thought this an opportune time to pass along a useful yard care tip: NEVER use a weed whacker in the nude.
You may wonder how I came by this insight. The Lady of the House had re-reminded me (not too gently) that something around our shack was going to get a whack and it was going to be either domestic tranquility or weeds. Well, it was a pretty hot day and I figured whacking weeds would also lead to washing dirty, sweaty clothes. Unless, and here a little light went on in my head, unless I wasn't wearing any clothes! Why not? We're on a steep hill with big trees. No one can see into our back yard. So I put on my black Converse high-tops, took off everything else, and fired up the noisiest contraption west of Cape Canaveral.
Did I mention that the Lady of the House likes to order things from catalogs? She does. She did.
Anyway, this weed whacker is so loud it completely drowned out the sound of the big brown delivery truck. Now, I suppose that elsewhere there are UPS deliverymen, but none, as far as I can tell, have been assigned our address. No, we have delivery persons. As everyone knows, person is a non-gender specific term meaning female.
I was swinging to my right to cut a swath when I saw her standing there with a package in her hands and a grin on her face. This took my attention off what I was doing, which is never a good idea with power tools.
The thing came after me faster than you can say things you ought not say. Who would have thought a little nylon string could hurt so much? The next instant I was hopping around like crazy trying to grab my mutilated left leg and regain control of the weed whacker at the same time. Tears were rolling down both our faces, but for entirely different reasons.
I succeeded in hitting the kill switch.
"I need your signature," she said. "Got a pen on you?"
Great. A comedian.
"Oh," she said, "from Land's End, I see. Looks like I didn't get here a moment too soon. I sure hope it goes with your shoes."
You know what I'm thinking? I'm thinking my next lawn care project is going to be a generous application of Round-Up followed by an installation of Astroturf.


Kurt Wilson, "Lawrence of Suburbia" has been married for more than 20 years (same woman!), has a teenage son, drives a station wagon and owns a self-propelled lawnmower. To reach him email Kurt@Larrysburbs.com.

Via a fellow Valkyrie riders' blog...

Daniel Meyer