I wrote this in May or June. Things have been pretty busy, but I just got a chance to post it...
I’m dating a lawn. Metaphorically, of course. In reality, I’m dating a beautiful, intelligent, sharply hilarious woman, but along with her comes a huge lawn. I’ve never dated a lawn before. It’s a completely new concept for me which brings with it a whole set of thoughts and questions I’ve never really had the need to ponder. It seems to me that dating a lawn is something that comes with age. You don’t have to worry about dating a lawn when you are a teenager, teenagers don’t have lawns, or at least, they are someone else’s responsibility. You don’t have to worry about lawns in your twenties either, since most twenty-somethings rent or if they own property it’s most likely a condo, once again making the lawn someone else’s responsibility. Which, I guess, is the bigger point I’m trying to get at, a lawn brings responsibility. I’m 37 and I just recently started dating responsibility.
A man’s relationship with mowing the lawn is an interesting one. Starting at a very early age, there is nothing more a young boy wants to do than mow the lawn. I’m sure it has a lot to do with father worship and wanting to do everything he does, or maybe wanting to do all those things you aren’t allowed to. Mowing the lawn is dangerous and complicated and not something a young child can do, or so I was led to believe by my father. There’s gas and oil and a cord you have to pull hard and a large sharp metal blade that cuts things like grass, weeds and little boy’s hands. I can only assume every other boy got the same story. When I was younger, I had a toy lawn mower that I used to push around behind my dad as he cut the lawn so I could feel like I was doing my part. I did this at a safe distance, of course, because of the danger. Mowing the lawn was exciting and an important responsibility and I wanted to take part in things that were exciting and important. By the time I was old enough to handle the danger, to manage the complicated task of gassing and starting and running a mower, things had changed. I was a teenager, and teenagers have a different set of priorities. I now wanted nothing to do with mowing a lawn. I wanted to hang out with my friends, play baseball up the street, spend time with my girlfriend, plus it was now expected that I do my part and help take care of the yard. Looking back, there was probably only a period of one summer where my desire and my ability to mow were perfectly in line.
By the time most adult men reach my age they have returned to lawn mowing. They now own a lawn of their own and busy themselves with it’s upkeep. I have even heard stories of men who enjoy this task; it provides a zen like escape that gives them great pleasure. I have successfully avoided this issue. I have never owned a parcel of land, nor have I dated anyone who has. Heck, even my parents downsized to condos and apartments before I moved back from the other coast. That being the case, I still carry with me my adolescent views on pushing a loud stinky mower around an acre or so of green clumpy lawn. Much like how they say an alcoholic stays the same emotional age they were when they started drinking, I carry around the same irrational teenage feelings about about taking care of a yard I had when I last has a yard to help maintain.
But that seems to have all changed. There’s part of me that is excited to mow a lawn. Maybe it’s something I will be good at. Maybe I’ll find Zen. Maybe I’ve finally met the person who makes me want to be responsible. Because really, I think that is what all this lawn stuff is about. Why would anyone WANT to mow a lawn? Its manual labor. Its an hour I could spend reading or watching TV. But I really do. I want to do it because I want to be part of something and I think I found the someone I want to build that something with. The idea of responsibility still gives me a rash, but when its presented as something else it doesn’t itch as much. I’m not excited about doing things I have to do but I am excited about doing things for someone else, things for us. I’m excited about dating a lawn.
