Dear Cory:
We recently moved into a house with a lawn, and, though I’d rather dig the shit up and plant something useful, like potatoes, circumstances demand that we maintain the lawn as is. Thus, we need to buy a lawn mower.
The wife, and my inner environmentalist, want me to buy the relatively environmentally neutral (as if there’s anything environmentally neutral about a semi-suburban lawn) electric mower. However, I grew up with engines, the smell of gasoline and two-cycle oil, and the roar of combustion. Electric mowers just seem a little pansy. I mean no offense by that, I did a lot of guys before I got married, but I think you know what I’m getting at.
What should I do?
Kindest regards,
No clever acronym signature, just Hank
Dear Hank:
You have practically written Cory’s answers for him. That frees him up to dilate on the issue of lawns and manliness. Thank you for the picture of you naked that accompanied your question, Hank. Cory is quite impressed yet somewhat mystified by its relevance to the issue at hand.
Lawns, those shallow, thirsty expanses, were originally conceived as a cleared area around a castle where enemies approaching could be clearly seen. They were mown by a phalanx of scythe-wielding serfs, who are now, you will have noticed, in woefully short supply. Lawns went from there to become a sign of wealth and land ownership. They shout: “I have so much money I can have no need to grow vegetables, and can well afford people to cut my grass.” Lawns became recreational areas too. If not a private lawn, then an expanse of turf such as a village commons: the community lawn with its grass games such lawn bowling, cricket, croquet, and the modern status symbol, golf, about which it’s best to say as little as possible, given Cory’s temper. Thus it went until the invention of the reel lawnmower in 1820. That push lawn mower was much the same as such mowers are today – a reel of curved blades geared to the ground wheels which enabled the middle classes lacking serfs to imitate the castle concept with an expanse of green around their homes. The poor languished in crowded houses with no gardens or with tiny gardens wherein they sensibly cultivated vegetables.
Cory applauds your desire to grow food in your plot. Since you are apparently stuck with a lawn and its maintenance, we must now consider how to make it a showplace for your masculinity. A man revels in his strength and his ability to sweat in attractive ways. Thus, Cory recommends a manual reel lawnmower with a basket to catch the trimmings, propelled by you. New reel mowers are quite easy to push, and do a much better job than the whirling dull blades of electric “pansy”, as you put it, contraptions (which make it almost inevitable you will run over the cord) and the noisy, gaseous abomination that is the two-cycle internal combustion mower. Running a gas mower for an hour creates as much pollution as a two-hundred mile trip in an average car. Your trimmings can be added to your compost heap sometimes instead being left to fertilize your lawn. The lovely soft, scissory sound reel mowers make is soothing for your neighbours, and Cory hopes, for you. A good reel mower requires almost no maintenance except cleaning, lubrication and periodic sharpening
On to your outfit. Wear a t-shirt in a middle shade of grey, which will stain with your sweat and then adhere to your musculature in a most attractive and masculine pattern; the sleeves should be short enough for your biceps to be displayed. Consider the shorts carefully: no cargo pants, no sweat pants, but something that will show your glutes to maximum advantage without cramping your manhood. Pause occasionally to sip iced tea and wipe your brow while admiring the beautiful stripes you have created so far in your back and forth cutting. Alternative outfits are below:
Any observing straight female or gay male neighbours will be charmed and transfixed by your form and the peaceful progress you make across your lawn. Any sarcastic remarks from a straight male neighbour alluding to your motorless Luddism should be answered by you with a silent reproach delivered in the following manner: give him a hand-written note with this web address on it: http://www.artofmanliness.com/2012/05/23/in-praise-of-the-push-reel-mower/ (Cory recommends the entire website too; he believes there is a small slot left in the continuum of sexual identities and genders in which traditional masculine iconography can be cultivated). The giving of the note should be accompanied by your slow head-to-toe appraisal of his physique and its flabbiness, lingering on the burgeoning love handles, and a smile that doesn’t involve the area around the eyes.
When your lawn is mown (to employ the alternative past participle adjective just because Cory likes it), relax in your Cape Cod chair while the ice cubes chime in your glass, and reflect that while you may not be allowed to raise vegetables as you might wish, you have raised the auditory and environmental consciousness of the neighbourhood and improved your musculature, which was pretty damn good to begin with.
