Toe the Line? Screw That!

Every year I comment on this: “I could not care less about lawns.”

There used to be a Scott's commercial on TV showing some nice middle class guys, self congratulating one another on their golf course lawns. In conclusion one looks into the camera and makes a moralistic judgment about his neighbor.

“John's lawn is tidy and beautiful...and so he is too.”

My response? Fuck you.

There was another one exhibiting a pleasant street in middle America. All the homes have groomed lawns excluding one, which is covered with dandelions that is floating the infectious fluffy seed into the wind. The voice over describing this social menace had the tone of a WW2 Venereal Disease short film about Miss Frenchie Fifi's diseased goodies, giving pure American soldiers the clap.

“Dirty neighbor! Bad neighbor! Reprobate!”

My luck included a retired neighbor, long since gone now, who had the time and an unusual devotion to his lawn. Lucky for him too, he lived next to me so he could fume over my variety of weeds I tender.

Just out of kindness and an excuse to make conversation many years ago, I remarked on how decent his lawn was. He seemed genuinely proud of it. He then, to reciprocate, tries to offer me advice on how I can improve mine. But as his advice comes, so does a derision in his voice. He can't help it, the hate is coming out.

“If you spent more time on it, you'd have one like mine.” I swear there was a snarl in his delivery.

I say. “Sure, if I wasn't carrying a full load at school and working full time, I might...but that presumes I really care as well.”

I love sarcasm, it's worse than a punch to the gut.

**

Conformity...

One time, above the fields at McCoy, I was sitting, drinking and ready for the fireworks display to begin. The gathering at the parking lot meets every year. It's the same, but one year older, a bunch of old friends I grew up with. It's usually a group of families with youngsters running all about.

I was then approached by one of the wives. She is sort of the Queen Bee of all the spouses so it's her place to present a rather snarky comment to me. She is Queen Bee you know, so it IS her place to shepherd us all when we stray. I find the next thing funny. I see how marrieds and families that hang out together, spend a sizable effort on corralling one other. What schools to attend, what political parties to affiliate with, what fucking cereal from Shaws must be purchased. It's all to prove to one another they're “better at parenting” than the other. In doing so, they all ape one another's forever reaching for the most expensive or most popular ideas, or try to outdo one another entirely. What's even funnier, is when their own kids blow that perception when they fight one another or do something completely asinine in front of everyone. Kids are kids and they're honest as hell!

“Our little Paul was accepted to the Moses Brown Summer camp!”

You look over and witness little Pauly is eating his own boogers....and then you look back to the parents whose faces now look to the pavement.

Anyways, I'm getting off track. Queen Bee comes over and says:

“Why don't you drive an SUV?” she asks with some disbelief. The parking lot was stuffed with Goliath SUVs and one Chrysler Sebring convertible, mine.

“Why? I don't have a family...I don't need the cargo space to stuff a 50 inch LCD TV into...I don't want to shell out for one SUV tire that'll probably buy TWO on my Chrysler. The maintenance costs are waay higher on those things! Plus the MPG sucks.”

Wait for it..it'll come and it does. She then says: “But everyone else has one.”

I look at her and say, sort of curtly because of the three beers in me:

“So.What.”

I have to give her this. She had the tact of a Southern Belle who learned her etiquette on the Tidewater of Virginia. She got up, and barely hiding her repugnance to leave me to stew in my insubordination. I cannot be saved! I'm a terrible wrongdoer.

In my mind I respond to her: “Fuck you, too”  

A normal, happy, healthy, moral and pure middle class family.  Notice the use of the color white? There's no dirt or any foulness here!  Well, just dig a little deeper into it and you'll find all sorts of problems. Maybe the wife chortles white wine immodestly. Maybe he wears her panties when she's not looking!