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It was the best of grass, it was the worst of grass. But mostly, it was grass that needed to be cut.

“You don’t like cutting grass!” stands as the most befuddling insult ever hurled at my face.

“That’s not correct, but why does it even matter?” was the only response I could find.

I’ve actually always enjoyed cutting grass. It’s the mowers that cause aggravation. From the very first time I cut grass, which I still recall vividly, I have maintained a love-hate relationship with lawnmowers.

Considering that the first mower I used was an ancient, rusty push mower with a handle higher than my eight-year-old head, that had no emergency cut-off and took at least half a can of WD-40 and 238 pulls to start, it’s a wonder I don’t in fact hate cutting grass. But at the time, that mower was all I had ever seen my dad use. Wrestling the noisy artifact until it billowed oily smoke was just part of the routine.

Having the built-in labor force of myself and siblings, my dad didn’t bother buying a riding mower until after I – the youngest – had moved out. Although he did upgrade and buy a self-propelled new walk-behind when I was in junior high, I dreamed of riding mowers as a kid.

As an adult, I have had many different mowers of different types and brands over the years. And I’ve come to realize something: they all break down. No matter how nice, how high or low tech, how cheap or expensive, you’re going to be pushing it to the shed at some point. 

I have a friend who famously fights with lawnmower repairs every spring. He has rebuilt more small engines than anyone I know who doesn’t make his living at it. Yet, every year, his mower won’t start.

Weeks ago I got out my red homage to Forest Gump and began the first pass of the year at the side yard. Like many mowers past, it takes knowing the trick to start it. This year, I had a brand new battery, new air filter, new oil … ready for the season. Twenty minutes into the job, I got off to open a gate. It hasn’t started since. 

Granted, I haven’t put in the time to figure out why, I simply drained the new battery trying to get it to fire, then pushed it to the shed. Then, I got out the backup: the “old reliable” basic cheap push mower, this example of which has become one of my favorite mowers ever.

Much like that first mower I used, this one isn’t self-propelled. It has no frills. It does have an emergency shut-off handle release, as they are all required to have now. But, as far as mowers go, this one keeps to the KISS philosophy (Keep It Simple, Stupid) and for the years I’ve owned it has never given me a problem. One pull, one start. Cut grass until the gas runs out, refill, and go again.

It’s really a thing of beauty, in its simplicity. The evolution of the product from what I used as that sweaty, excited eight-year-old, to my new(er) one lies in what you can’t see: reliability. It takes the frustration out of the process, and allows a grown man time to peacefully meditate while creating a neat, green blanket across his yard, so he can enjoy cutting the grass – as some think he should.

Indeed, it is a far, far better thing I do to not worry about shiny new lawnmowers, and enjoy the one that always starts. 

Jeremy Crowson is a staff writer for the Demopolis Times. He can be reached at jeremy.crowson@demopolistimes.com.