Trying to find the mower repair shop

KlonieJORDAN

I’m one of those guys who relies on his wife.

For example, if my wife tells me I need a haircut, I’m getting a haircut. If my wife tells me the seat of my pants are on fire, I’m going to try — very quickly — to find a fire extinguisher.

We’ve been married 22 years and I’ve learned she usually knows what she’s talking about.

Except on Saturday.

My poor old riding lawn mower has been through the mill. It has served me well, lo these past 14 years or so. But lately it has a chronic case of the malfunctions. Most recently, the malfunction involved a mower deck belt breaking.

If you’ve ever tried to replace a mower deck belt, you know it’s no picnic. As a matter of fact, it pretty much can’t be done by an amateur. Those who have tried have either failed miserably or are now residing in a room with really, really soft walls, off which they occasionally bounce while muttering expletive sprinkled anti-lawn mower tirades.

“Mower deck belt, mower deck belt, mower deck belt,” they will mutter over and over like a character in a George A. Romero (he of the zombie genre) film. Then their eyes will glaze over and become fixed, like they’re staring at something very wondrous off in the distance, maybe a flying saucer, or perhaps a giant ice cream cone.

I tried once to replace a mower deck belt on my riding mower. It was like a WWE production — “Dumb All-Thumbs Guy vs. Blade-Twirling MegaMachine in a one time-only carport cage match for lawn supremacy: $49.95 on pay-per-view.”

You know what? It took me four days but I won that showdown.

You know what else? I learned some valuable lessons from that encounter, like,

1.) DO NOT EVER UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES ATTEMPT TO DO THIS AGAIN;

2.) It REALLY, REALLY hurts when you accidentally kick out the four bricks holding up the riding mower and the mowing deck falls on your arm; and,

3.) How to apply a tourniquet.

So on Thursday when the mowing deck belt broke again, I told my wife and she said she knew a good mower mechanic guy. We agreed to take the mower to this guy’s shop Saturday morning to have the belt replaced.

Keep in mind that from Thursday afternoon until Saturday morning, I never once asked her how to get to this repair shop. I figured she knew (see Paragraph 2).

So on Saturday morning I hooked up the trailer to my vehicle, loaded up the mower and off we went to the lawn mower repair shop. I waited until after we pulled out of the driveway before I finally asked her how to get to this place. She assured me it was “out on Hwy. 150.”

Well, we went out that way – SEVERAL MILES OUT THAT WAY — and suddenly my wife didn’t seem to know much about where this shop was located. Long story short (I know, you’re saying “too late for that”), we went by the office and she called the guy to get directions. Turns out his shop is located on Hwy. 18, not Hwy. 150.

She was very apologetic for being confused about our destination.

So I tried to mix a little sarcasm with a little humor to make her feel better.

“Don’t worry honey,” I said. “If people ask me what I did on Saturday, I’m just going to tell them we took our lawn mower for a ride in the country. I’ll tell them it likes to occasionally get out and smell the fresh air and see the countryside. Plus, I like for it to see all the grass it DOESN’T HAVE TO MOW so it can feel better about itself and understand there are other mowers out there that have it much worse than it does.”

She didn’t see the humor in that but she DID right away recognize the sarcasm.

So if you need me, I’ll be the guy sleeping on the couch.

But at least I’ll have a new mower deck belt — and I’ll be tourniquet-free.

(Klonie Jordan is executive editor of The Gaffney Ledger. You can contact him via e-mail at editor@gaffneyledger.com)