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I then realized that I had scored points with him about the brand. I also realized that I had lost those same points immediately by not having heard of the brand …
I like to do a victory lap before the race begins.
It makes me feel like I’ve accomplished something.
So I took Cubbie on a victory lap around the perimeter of the front yard to survey the scope of the project before me. It was a pretty smooth ride as Cubbie & I got to know each other. It handled well. The turn-radius was impressive. And the speed was reasonable. I realized that Cubbie was sure to be a reliable friend.
About three laps into the Frontyard 400, it happened.
I didn’t navigate the “subtle” mound leftover from where a gumball tree once lived for fifty years. And I ran the dual blade cutting deck into the dirt on the upside of the grassy mound. I honestly did not know that the earth beneath any amount of grass could meet the blades. And that morning, I found out that it could happen. And it did happen.
I dismounted the Cubbie and got behind and pushed him over the mound. What I found was an ginormous pile of fresh dirt clods and hacked up divots the size of paper plates. I was moderately concerned as I sat back down on Cubbie and went to start ‘em back up. Yet, without missing a beat, Cubbie started right back and up and the blades were back in motion.
For now.
I did a few more laps of the Frontyard 400 and and started to realize something.
The cut “lanes” of grass looked different than before.
The lanes were cut diagonal from left to right with a line.
Much like Arsenio Hall’s haircut in 1990. A flat top that wasn’t flat ... unless you tipped your head to the side.
I didn’t have time to investigate that morning. I realized that Cubbie must have gotten his new style from the Gumball Tree Mound Barber at the corner of Dumb Road and Stupid Street.
So I finished the Frontyard 400. And the finished product displayed a degree of consistency in “look and feel.” I’m certain that someone with vertigo would have found the yard to look fantastic…
And then I went on to do a victory lap around the back yard.
I was almost done with my first lap of the Backyard 500, and it happened.
While cruising wide around an oak tree, Cubbie came to such a violent and abrupt stop that the front hood went flying open and slammed back down into place.
I simultaneously came off of my seat and arrived in that awkward half-bent over position that looked like I was either waiting for someone to serve me a volleyball or I was going to start riding Cubbie like a jockey in the Thompson Downs…
I’m not sure when the six-inch round root from the oak tree grew up out of the ground ten feet from the base of the tree and surged out and back into the ground like a graceful whale in the arctic. I’m not sure why I hadn’t seen the drive-by rooting.
What I did know was that the root was now sporting the same haircut as the rest of his flora and fauna brothers in the front yard.
Having just witnessed Cubbie’s stout and vigorous re-start not even 35 minutes earlier, I had high hopes.
Yet this was different.
This haircut had sparks …
I pushed Cubbie over on to the driveway to examine the damage.
Belts had come off. Blades had broken. It was bad.
Cubbie had to go back.
I'm sure I lost more points with my friend on the Ignorant Lawn Mower's Chart ...
At least I had finished the Frontyard 400 … even if it looked like a popular haircut from the early nineties …
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