The Best Suburban Day Yet

I tried to photograph a portion of one of the framed posters that the previous homeowner left on the wall when we bought our house.

Note how the light of the room hides the main man’s face. Also note how the four sportsmen are arranged in a diamond; with No-Face at the apex, two guarding his sides, and one below. (Because of the way that I framed my shot, only the cap & bat of the lowest player are visible.) Also behold how the Star of Bethlehem — a resplendent supernova that is said to have guided the Magi to the birthplace of Jesus — emerges from the tip of that low player’s bat: this miracle is an intentional depiction by the artist (rather than a haphazard reflection of the light from my room); and it is superimposed, along with Christ’s Crown, directly over the loins of the Faceless One.

Dear diary,

Yesterday was a special day, because all of my seven neighbors, who live in the other houses surrounding mine on this small street, came outside and mowed their lawns at the very same time; and I joined in too.

This meant a lot to me, cuz it was an unplanned event. Nobody mass-mailed postcards to the neighborhood stating “RED ALERT! June 22 shall be ‘Lawn-mowing Day’!” No, all that happened is this:

First, Bruce appeared on his front lawn with his mower. (When we all heard the noise of its engine, we went to our respective windows to see where the sound was coming from.)

Then, before Bruce could get even two strips mowed, another motor-noise appeared in the air. So we all look out & see that neighbor Joe has begun to mow his lawn.

Pretty soon a third mechanical buzz joins the chorus: here’s Mack on his riding mower, smiling and waving to Bruce and Joe, who keep mowing contentedly.

Then, before a minute can pass, Dave at the far end of the street joins in and starts mowing as well.

This is where I began to feel the pressure. Yet it wasn’t ‘pressure’ exactly — for there was no discomfort — it was more like the feeling that wells up when a band starts playing happy music, and everyone at the party arises and begins to dance, thus making it difficult to remain seated and frowning.

So I quickly combed my hair and looked in the mirror to make sure my collar was straight; then I went into my garage and got out my battery-powered lawnmower (I fear that this electric model is, in some way, possibly even worse for the environment than the gas-powered ones, but I like it because it’s quieter and there’s no messy oil to change); and I started to cut the third of my grass that shares a border with my neighbor Tim’s yard.

And just as I passed the side door of Tim’s garage, the door opened & out came Tim with his self-propelled mower. He smiled & waved. Then we both made the same mute gesture that meant something like “I don’t know why we all chose to mow at the same time today, but apparently it’s not sinful”.

Then I turned & noticed that Jee from across the street had begun mowing too (I’m sure I misspelled his name here; I just wrote it the way it sounded when he pronounced it — maybe it’s spelled “Zhee” or “Gi”).

So now we have Bruce & Joe & Mack & Dave & Tim & Jee & me, all mowing our lawns together.

At this point, Anthony the Contractor arrived home from work — he came driving down the street in his familiar white van and pulled into his driveway. He got out of the vehicle and stood there, slowly turning his head from left to right in amusement at the sight of all us neighbors simultaneously mowing our lawns. Then he hastened into his house, and soon his garage door opens to reveal him proudly mounted on his Advanced Power-Mower. (Again, this might not be its correct title, but I call it an Advanced Power-Mower becuz it’s a professional-grade, industrial-strength, super-futuristic contraption that is twice as fast as a normal riding lawn-mower; and, instead of sitting on a seat, it has a wheeled panel that is ball-jointed to the back of the chassis which you stand upon: so, while driving it, you look like the commander of a ship.) This was the grand finale of our mowing-event.

When I saw that Anthony, the last neighbor remaining on our street, was also joining the fray, I laughed out loud — tho no one could hear my laugh over the roar of all the engines.

P.S.

My favorite thing about this Best Suburban Day Ever is that, after we all were out there in our front lawns, a little crow flew down from the heavens & landed in the street. It stood there for a few moments, watching us; and, at first, it seemed confused; but then it started to strut in its crowy way, to & fro: right down the middle of the street, like it owned the place. — Strangely, not a single vehicle drove past during this episode; so the crow had total control over that stretch of road. The bird just kept assuredly pacing up & down our street while observing us, like a taskmaster overseeing the work of his laborers.