When I mow I think, talk to myself, and sing like Dean Martin. My best singing is not done in the shower. When I mow I always come up with good ideas, like this one, to write about liking mowing.
I've taken to smoking the occasional cigar of late, and during the course of several mows over the past two seasons, I've torched a nice maduro corona. I blow smoke, jumbling along, one hand on the wheel, one hand hung low, to the side, hovering just above the right rear fender, a cigar sporting an evenly burnt inch long ash set comfortably safe between my pointer finger and thumb. I'm a smoke-blowing aristocrat.
Lot of guys like mowing. We like mowing because mowing is in the "cut" family, and guys like to cut things. Trees, toe-nails, the turkey, farts, in line, brush, sharp cheese, the mustard, cards, it out, the crap, Welch's grape juice with water.
Listing only half the reasons I like to mow would fill a column with words enough to cover several pages in print. Rather than do that, I'll add and end with ...
Guys like mowing because you mow alone, and guys often like to be alone.
Rusty DeWees tours Vermont and Northern New York with his act "The Logger." His column appears weekly. He can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org. Listen for The Logger, Rusty DeWees, Thursdays at 7:40 on the Big Station, 98.9 WOKO or visit his website at www.thelogger.com