Pretending to be Aristocrats

humor-yard-of-the-month

That’s a yard with purpose.

Mowing the lawn isn’t just tedious and repetitive, I think  it enforces classism.  In this American dream, the lawn of the month gets its address posted on a bulletin board and receives a cheap looking gold and black placard to plant in their perfectly manicured yard.  Emblazoned upon it is, “Yard of Month Winner”.   It might as well say, “Rob this house, they have the most money to blow on pointless aesthetics”.

That’s just me.  If you are the lawn of the month guru, good on you!  I’m not saying you shouldn’t get to enjoy your lawn, I’m just saying I don’t care about mine being perfectly sculpted.

meadow.jpgI would prefer a meadow to a patch of boring grass.   There is a single reason why I don’t have a meadow; if I don’t mow, I get a letter from the Home Owners Association harassing me.  As if the monthly money they snatch from me (money used to buy things like Yard of the Month signs) isn’t enough, they must enforce social order among the unwashed rabble.

This lawn obsession traces back to the Aristocracy.  When the wealthy used peasants and livestock to manage the grounds.  Now we fork out money to buy machines, fuel to power them, and toil away to fight a battle against nature we will never win.  Fertilizer to feed some of it, weed killer to destroy some of it, and pesticide to wipe out unwanted visitors.  It seems so ridiculous.  Is this our futile attempt at becoming Aristocrats ourselves?

To make it worse, the summer temperatures here flirt around 100-degrees Fahrenheit.  No one is out in their lawns enjoying the fruits of their labor.  However, their sprinklers are there to ensure those precious blades of grass don’t wither away in the sun.  Yet more waste.  As I drive home, streams of water run down the roads sloping gutters into the storm drains as house after house over-saturates the American dream of greener pastures.

I understand there is satisfaction in coming home to our castles and surveying our little plots of dirt.  I get that some of us are actually able to withstand the blistering summer temperatures and enjoy the front and back yards.  Good on you!  I just don’t understand why something as basic as a lawn must be treated as a mark of class.  I went to plenty of domestic disturbances when I was cop that took place in really nice houses with really nice lawns.  The element of class was still sadly missing.

overgrown city.jpgA part of me wishes the woods bordering my house would explode to life and take back the subdivision overnight.  I would wake up, open my door, and be underneath a canopy of trees.  Vines would creep up out of the earth and break the road to bits.  It is the apocalyptic part of me.  Perhaps it’s partially why I’m writing a post-apocalyptic novel.

Anyways, until that happens I will just be over here watching the grass grow during the day, and out in the woods with Miracle Grow and a hose at night.  Until tomorrow, keep reading, keep writing, and as always – stay sharp!

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