Spirit of the Lawn

Originally Posted Monday, May 6, 2013

Jesus Christ, the whole lawn thing is a mess.  I can't sleep at night.  It had been raining, so I had not needed to turn on the newly renovated irrigation system.  When I did. . . what a fuck up.  We had put flags down at every head, but the guys laying the sod ignored all of that and simply lay the sod right on top of them.  I had to go and cut them out.  When I did, I realized the irrigation guy had not fixed any of the heads.  Some were still broken.  One of the largest zones doesn't even work, shooting out water the way an old man pees.  I am afraid that somewhere under all that beautiful sod lay a pipe cut by the sod guys.  Now I am toting an old fashioned sprinkler attached to a leaky hose around the yard moving it every twenty minutes. 

Those of you who have eschewed the bourgeoisie lifestyle can sit back and chuckle righteously.  And, I am certain to the nth degree, that is all of you. 

Beauty comes at great cost.  Everything is beautiful at first, but those who do not cultivate and maintain it end up looking like the fools dancing in the bar to the Tone Deafs.  It takes more and more work to look. . . desirable. 

And the mad gallery scoffs.  Obsession, they chant, with mundane trivialities.  It is more about the Spirit of the Lawn.  All that is artificially enhanced. . . . That is what they mean. 

But I have seen the other too often.  I ran away from those too lazy to nurture their better nature, the one we see when first we meet.  I see it every morning looking back at me.  I'm certain it is only a symbol of a lazy, careless, indulgent soul. 

And that is why I prefer the other. 

I am worried.  What if they must tear up the new lawn to find a broken pipe?  Who will pay for that? 

I must go now.  It is time to move the sprinkler.  I must maintain the spirit of this new lawn.