|
Copyrights reserved by the author. If you are in doubt, please click on 'Copyrights' and read the details. Proof that corporate America knows me better than I know myself. By J. G. Fabiano The snow blower and winter clothes are finally put away. In their place stands the lawnmower that has been hibernating ever since the cold winds of winter put my lawn to sleep. I am always upset at myself for not winterizing my lawn equipment before I put it away, because I know the time will come when I have to get it ready in order to survive the summer season. Since I learned the hard way that no lawnmower can survive two seasons without having its oil and spark plug changed I drag the mower out into the driveway to do what I know must be done. In other words, my Sears credit card just went platinum because of the necessity to buy a new machine every other year. What I don't understand is why the manufacturer places the drain plug of the mower underneath the machine where the blade resides. Is this some sort of a sadistic joke in order to torture the homeowner to the point that he or she doesn't change the oil and thus has to buy a new machine every couple of years? This will be the year I beat their vicious plot and figure out how to drain the old oil out of my machine. I drag it out into my driveway and wedge it under the bumper of my truck so I can get at the bottom of the mower. The blade is blocking where I think the drain plug is so I have to turn it away. The blade then begins to move on its own, which puts images in my mind of pieces of me being blown across my front lawn. I then disconnect the spark plug. After I change my underwear I go back to the task at hand. I then find what I think is the oil drain and begin to unscrew it after I place a coffee can underneath where I think the oil will drain. After a few minutes of scraping most of the skin off my wrist and fingers I finally loosen the bolt and remove it from the bottom of the mower. To my shock nothing drains. Did I run the mower all last year without any oil in it? I then hear a clunk and look out over the top of the machine. I have just disconnected the engine from the base of the machine. An hour later, after rebuilding the mower, I discover another bolt underneath the machine. I spend the next 15 minutes scraping off what was left of any living tissue on my hands and once again loosen and remove the bolt. This time a thick, gooey stream of oil pours out of the mower, misses the coffee can, runs across my soon-to-be-resurfaced driveway and down my soon-to-be-thrown-out jeans. I replace the bolt that drained the oil and push the machine to the side so I can spread some "speedy dry," alias kitty litter, on the puddle of dirty oil that has now spread across my driveway. Turning around I confirm that the basic purpose of motor oil is to eliminate as much friction as possible because I mistakenly step in the puddle with my soon-to-be-thrown-out sneakers and land face down in the oil. My neighbor, who has offered to pay me for the entertainment I provide, tells me later that I looked like a beached whale after the Exxon Valdez disaster. I then decide to go back to the house to change and discover that my wife has locked me out. She then tells me she will not let me back in the house until I take off all of my clothes, put them in a plastic bag and put the bag in the corner of the garage with the recycling bins. My neighbors should be relieved that there is a garage attached to our house. My next task, in order to get my mower ready for the grass-growing season, is to change the spark plug. This part should be easy, I tell myself. I know where the spark plug is and it should be easy to get at because it sits on the back of the engine of the mower. The problem is that the manufacturer, in all its corporate sadism, never allows one to fit a wrench over the plug in order to remove it. There is always some part of the engine that makes it impossible to fit the wrench over the plug. Since there is little left of my hands and fingers I decided to use a pair of pliers. This proves to be a mistake because the only part of the plug I remove is the tip that holds the wire that I previously removed in order to protect my hands. I then grab my hammer, drive my socket wrench into the machine and turn the long silver lever with all my might in order to remove what is left of the spark plug from the machine. To my delight it turns, but so does the part of my machine that makes it impossible to fit the wrench over the plug. Both parts fall off the machine. Since I don't have a clue what that particular part did, I kick it into the puddle of oil that is now spreading from the driveway, and onto my soon-to-be-dead lawn. I then screw the new spark plug into my mower, attach the wire and prepare to pull the cord that is supposed to start the machine. To my joy the mower starts on the first pull and roars into life. For a few seconds I am empowered by the thought that I have beaten corporate America and my lawnmower will survive more than two years. I enjoy this feeling for only a few seconds because the lawnmower starts to spew out thick clouds of black smoke, its roar escalates to a scream and it gives one final loud clank and dies. Looking over my shoulder through the cloud of bluish gray smoke that now obscures most of my front yard I notice an unopened can of motor oil on my front steps. The operative word here is "unopened". The snow blower and winter clothes are finally put away. In their place stands my new lawnmower that I have just purchased from Sears. I am always angry with myself for not winterizing my lawn equipment before I put it away because I know the time will come when I have to get it ready to survive the summer season. Every year I will forget to do something really important and I will be reminded that corporate America knows me better than I know myself. The End
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
