Tuesday, December 7, 2021

That Reminds Me…



By Steve Gimmestad


It was a late fall day; overcast with a breeze. The man stood in the driveway contemplating what to do with all the leaves that had accumulated in the yard. The yard wasn’t huge but was surrounded by dense woods so the leaves piled up quick and deep.

Being so late in the season, an idea came to him. Rather than rake or blow the leaves away as was usual, he decided to hook the snow plow to the lawn tractor. What a tremendous idea, he said to himself smugly. It would save so much time.

The leaf plowing went much better than expected. He was able to push them past the tree line into the woods in a quarter of the time it would normally take. There was a particularly large pile in the corner of the yard near the garden. He set the plow to the ground and hit the throttle. The leaves engulfed the tractor as it plowed forward. Time to back up and give it one more push.

As the man backed the tractor up, he noticed the quickly spreading flame trail left in the dry leaves from the hot exhaust pipe. Oh Crap! He screamed to himself desperately.

That reminds me…

I was watching the guys cut the lawn from my kitchen window. Yup, that used to be me. Now that I’m renting, it’s given me pause to contemplate my place in the mortgage ecosystem.

The first issue is a financial one. I’ve saved a boatload of money already by not having to invest in a lawnmower, rakes, wheelbarrow, hedge clippers, edge trimmers and pink flamingos. This does not even include the high-tech gear like the back-pack leaf blower complete with ear goggles and sunglasses the likes of which would make NASA proud. I have kept my Legacy™ Flexzilla Garden Hose in Zillagreen, though. Can’t imagine giving that up.

The next issue is time. Oh, the time spent cutting the grass, gardening, weeding, landscaping and building cool sheds just to keep up with the neighbors. Instead I have used that time to explore the great world around me. I figured out that I have made 2.3 times more friends than if I had a mortgage. And that’s just in the first four months. The possibilities!

Without having to worry about lawn care or house maintenance, we have pursued new hobbies, like driving around Marco and counting Condee trucks. Or improving our time on the Landscape truck slalom. We even stopped in at Scuba Marco. Better to be underwater in the Gulf than with a mortgage.

There is now major discussion about travel and investing in a mobile mortgage, more commonly referred to as a Recreational Vehicle. I have noticed there are a few of them in the area. My vision is to have Florida as the living room, a den in Colorado, a bedroom in New Hampshire and the bathroom behind any roadside tree. While investigation into this concept is in its infancy, it is a goal. What kind of life does not have goals?

I hope my friends in the real estate trade do not shun me for my revelations. I was shunned by my buddies once in fourth grade for liking girls. It wasn’t fun. Rather I hope to find mortgage tolerance. Some of my best friends are homeowners. They’re good people.

For now, I will forego investing $3,000 in a lawn tractor only to have it consumed in a raging fire started by a senseless act of innovation. I will set my sights on the horizon and ignore the cracks in my ceiling. Gas, not grass, will be the mantra. And when fuel prices become prohibitive, as they inevitably will, I shall park my RV in a quite spot (most likely behind that hill in Nebraska), stick out my thumb, and let those who discover the rusted remains ponder what happened. Not unlike the Mary Celeste.

There are those who cry out “What about leaving something for your children?” To them I say I have no kids, and what meager estate I will possess at my demise, I am leaving to my UPS driver, cause he brings me things.



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