Marek - Ben and the Art of Lawnmower Maintenance: Second Edition

Ben and the Art of Lawnmower Maintenance

Second Edition

John B. Marek

Mountain Island Press

Copyright 2018, 2020 John B. Marek

All rights reserved
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
ISBN-13: 9798676893422
Cover design by: John B. Marek
Printed in the United States of America

For Dad, who liked to visit, and who taught me about lawnmowers, nightcrawlers and storytelling, among other things.
Bennie Marek (1918-1997)

Contents

Introduction

Every artist needs a mentor or two, and for my father, who aspired to the blue collar art of lawnmower maintenance, those mentors were the Sawkeys." The Sawkeys (who I would later deduce were actually named Esalke) were German-born brothers who ran a small engine repair shop out of a detached garage behind their house in the village of Gypsum, Ohio in the years following World War II. Gypsum was a thriving company town back then, with nearly the entire population employed at the U.S. Gypsum plant a half-mile down the road. Since everyone worked together during the day, there was a lot neighborly familiarity and a good bit of neighborly competition; and nowhere was that more apparent than in the meticulous way families kept their lawns. I don't really know how my father became interested in small engine repair, but I'd guess it was originally out of a necessity which later grew into an interest and eventually into a passion.
My father's name was Bennie Marek. It was not Bernard Marek, as I had long assumed because Bernard is my middle name, and almost no one called him Ben. That's why the title of this book is maybe a little imprecise, but I think Dad would understand. After all, my sense of humor comes largely from him and he would definitely have appreciated the pun. The title Ben and the Art of Lawnmower Maintenance is a nod to the 1974 work by Robert Pirsig, Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, which is itself a play on Zen in the Art of Archery by Eugen Herrigel. In the introduction to his book, Pirsig explains that, despite its title, "it should in no way be associated with that great body of factual information relating to orthodox Zen Buddhist practice. It's not very factual on motorcycles, either."
In the same vein, while the personal anecdotes shared and mechanical and lawn care advice given in this book are all legitimate and based on both my father's homespun wisdom and my subsequent experience as a homeowner and suburban homesteader, I am, at best, a shade tree mechanic who knows just enough not to screw things up too badly. The techniques discussed in this book demonstrate general principles which may or may not be applicable to specific situations; soil, grass types and environmental conditions vary widely. Always follow manufacturers instructions included with products and use good judgement. When in doubt, consult a local professional.
And certainly, any insights you might gain about the great mysteries of life and the human condition are purely coincidental.
When it comes to lawns and lawnmowers, there are essentially two kinds of people; those who see the maintenance thereof as an onerous task which must be grudgingly accomplished or, better yet, outsourced, and those who see lawn maintenance as a source of personal pride and accomplishment, one of the few ways in which the modern American can remain in touch with their agrarian heritage while getting a little exercise and some fresh air and sunshine. Over the past four decades I have variously and intermittently been both, and this book should be eminently readable by either.
The idea for this book dates back to an article I wrote for Porch Dog Journal in 2015. It was a straightforward piece that offered a handful of spring lawnmower maintenance tips, and some of its DNA inhabits Hope Springs Internal (Combustion). I called the article "Ben and the Art of Lawnmower Maintenance" as an homage to my Dad, who taught me just about everything I know about things mechanical.
After the article was published, I went on to write others about my father and his sometimes eccentric, sometimes perceptive ways, and that title always stuck with me. As the calendar flipped to 2018, it occurred to me that Dad would have celebrated his 100th birthday that July and I decided to write this book, weaving together anecdotes about my Dad, advice on lawnmowers and lawn care passed down from him and filtered through my own unique suburban homesteading experiences, and even a piece of short suspense fiction involving lawnmowers, a rusty Biscayne station wagon and... Well, you'll see.

Finally, a word about lawn mowers, lawn-mowers, and lawnmowers. As I researched this book, it became clear there are different schools of thought about the word, or words, lawnmower. It appears that the preferred usage is two words, "lawn mower," but "lawnmower" and "lawn-mower" are also commonly used. For purposes of consistency, and because its my book and that's the way I want to do it, I will refer to the lawnmower, one word, no hyphen, except in specific instances when referring to patents, product names and advertising copy where other forms are used.

In the Midnight Hour, She Cried Mow, Mow, Mow

T hat first day of spring. Real spring, not the one dictated by the calendar, but by the vibrant green sprigs of grass waving on a warm southern breeze... a cacophony of birds overhead... daffodils unfurling their translucent collars... the sun, full of optimism, pouring down upon you, filling you.

There is not a cloud in the afternoon sky as you wheel the mower from the garage and pull the starter cord for the first time in months...

Once Twice Third time the charm.

The engine roars to life and the aromas engulf you. The pungent tang of gasoline. The sweet balm rising as honed steel meets verdure. Smells that take you back to a dozen or more days just like this one. Good times and not so good times; the relentless march of the seasons. And then something stirs deep inside you, but not of you. It lasts for just a moment, a splinter of a moment actually, but in that splinter you are one with every person who ever pulled a starter cord on a fine spring day such as this and you wonder, how could it ever be any other way?

Although ornamental plantings and gardens associated with residences date back thousands of years, the lawn as we think of it todaya field of closely cropped turfgrassis believed to have originated in the Middle Ages. Expanses of low-cut grass surrounding castles prevented sneak attacks and afforded enemies no cover from the literal slings and arrows of the defending force. After a while, the villagers in the surrounding area found the groomed areas an attractive place for leisure and sporting events, and "bowling greens" became a prominent feature of many medieval towns. Those greens were maintained by crews of skilled workers brandishing scythes, and consequently the ability to own and maintain a lawn was limited to royalty and the upper realms of the landed gentry into the 19th century, when Englishman Edwin Budding invented the first lawnmower.

Patented in 1830, the Budding mower was 19 inches wide and constructed from wrought and cast iron. A complicated series of gears transferred power from the roller wheel to the cutting blades. Budding was a mechanic in a textile mill and is said to have patterned his mower after a device used to cross-cut woolen cloth for a smooth finish. Although the mower was heavy and unwieldy a second handle was eventually added to the front for better control its basic functionality is similar to the manually-powered push mowers available today.