In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea,
With a glory in His bosom that transfigures you and me:
As He died to make men holy, let us live to make men free,
While God is marching on!


Friday, November 27, 2009

Blowing It

I've sold out. Today, after intense lobbying by my wife and elder son, I broke down and bought a snowblower.

The consensus was that I'm too old and decrepit to shovel snow anymore, at least without serious risk of a heart attack or stroke. No matter that I've been doing it the old-fashioned way since the Johnson administration (that's Lyndon, not Andrew), including during and after the "Storm of the Century" (or Great Blizzard of 1993), when I shoveled for two days straight and was piling snow more than six feet high at the end of the driveway. No matter that the shovel and I were still going strong here less than 12 months ago.

My father continued to shovel at my age (54), although he then decided to avoid the shovel/snowblower issue altogether and moved to Florida. I suppose a snowblower would be the cheaper alternative in the long run--although, if I use this thing six or seven times a year (about how often during a season that we have a snowfall really worthy of attack by a snowblower) and hang onto it for as long as 12 or 13 years, I'll still be paying around $10 for every time I use it. Besides, how am I to prove my manhood between December and March? What if they revoke my honorary Amishman's license? I used to be able to stand out in the middle of the windswept, snow-choked driveway for hours on end, hurling shovel after shovel-full into the yard, and feel mighty superior to my wimpy neighbors as they crept out of their comfy dens, pushed their put-puts up and down their driveways a few times, and timidly retreated back inside while I toiled on and on outdoors like a REAL MAN! Now, I'll be no better than they are.

However, I console myself with the knowledge that now my dear wife won't have to confront a snow emergency when I'm not around, with nothing but a shovel in her hand. In fact, now that I think of it, she won't have to do that even when I am around. She'll be able to drive that sucker up and down the driveway all by herself, while I protect my delicate constitution inside, lending her moral support and preparing hot chocolate to keep her going.

Guess I'm still a REAL MAN after all! ;-)


It's A Wonderful said...

Hooray! You and Jason each bought an orange machine this year to make your yardwork easier! Jason, an orange riding lawnmower and you, an orange walking snowblower! Don't worry, you can retain your manhood just by getting up and out on a cold, blustery day.

I remember when, as kids, Dad would rouse us early on a blustery morning and commence snow shoveling activities. I say "us" loosley, as I wasn't encouraged to shovel-I think I must have gotten in the way. You boys did all the snow removal, but I was there to encourage you on and jump on the snow banks. (I really did want to help, though). Then the snowplow would come down the street and the snow from the street would get banked at the end of the driveway. Aaahhh, the good old days!

Melany is one lucky girl...she and I can rev up those orange beasts and take matters into our own hands, as the need arises. Somehow, I just don't think you're going to let that happen anytime soon. You know what they say about men and their toys...

Anonymous said...

OMG--what is this world coming to?!? :) I love your comments about shoveling since the Johnson administration (Lyndon, not Andrew)--that's hilarious! Heck, you should have seen the snowblower my father bought years ago: it was bigger than the one you've got. It was emblazoned with "ONE MEAN CAT"--not as nice-looking as yours.