It’s an overly warm early spring night, and I’m writing, sitting in a freshly teak oiled, wooden, Smith and Hawken outdoor folding chair, that is pulled up to the chair’s companion table. Four feet away is my black 2011, F 150 Ford pick-up truck, that is parked grill facing to the bucket of my shiny green and yellow 4120, 42 horse John Deere compact estate tractor I use for plowing snow and pulling trees, and or whatever else might need to be pulled. Sometimes I use the J.D. to go to the mailbox, 7/10ths of a mile away. I throw the mail in the bucket. My neighbors wonder why.
Resting in a bay off my left shoulder is my 2009 Chevrolet Tahoe, which just today turned it’s 90,000th mile. Combined yearly mileage run in my truck and Tahoe is between 55,000 and 60,000.
The bay off my right shoulder shelters my pop’s 27-year-old Toro 8 horse ride-on mower. This gem handsomely boasts a patina of faded red and black paint, blended with tacky blackish brownish oil. Leigh and Leslie Keno would give it raves. To the mower’s side, resting proudly, is a single axle red Wheel Horse garden trailer, whose bed houses my hyper-powerful Husqvarna weed whacker, a model 61 Husky chainsaw, two, red, five gallon fuel jugs, one for gas, one for diesel, a two gallon jug of bar and chain oil, and one, two gallon fuel jug containing mixed fuel for the whacker and chainsaw.
Pushed tight as can be up under the rear of the garden trailer is my Husqvarna push mower. It’s powered by a Honda engine.
I might buy a dirt-bike. If I do, moving vehicles in my posse take credit for 24 tires, 21 spark plugs and lots and lots of horsepower. I love that we still call it horsepower.
My house runs on propane. A few times this spring on the same day I bet I’ll use every one of my fuel burning machines, and my heat will be on, and the dishwasher and clothes dryer will be operating.
Mr. Obama, environmentalists, all around American gal and guy, our desire to move toward new energy is admirable. My actions are not.
Change? You first.