Do You Hear That?
Do you hear that sound? No? It's because I use an electric mower. The only sound it makes is the dull roar of the blade spinning, lulling me into a stupor because it invokes the memory of sleep. (Yes, I am also one of those weirdos who has to sleep with a fan.)
I love my EGO electric mower. I didn't always own one of these modern marvels of grass evisceration. Oh no, I was part of the gas-guzzling status quo for years. But when we bought our new house, I jumped at the chance to join the electric revolution and bought the Tesla of mowers.
I see all types of lawn equipment in our neighborhood, but the theme that inspired today's musing is that everyone else seems to be making the switch, too. It hasn't been a sudden onslaught of homeowners clamoring to join this astonishing family of quiet lawn custodians. Rather, it's been a slow trickle over the years. Every time I see a neighbor with a new electric mower, I give them the nod—like bikers passing on the open road. For a brief moment, we share the silent acknowledgment that we have evolved past a society wholly reliant on fossil fuels.
No longer are my fellow champions of clean mowing adding to the din of small-engine noise on the weekends. You know the time: those hallowed hours when everyone has to keep up with the proverbial Joneses by manicuring their lawns to absolute perfection. God forbid my neighbors mow their grass first and make mine look inferior! That would be an outrage.
Since going electric, I've noticed just how incredibly loud those few remaining gas mowers are. Do you think you can hear my mower from inside the house, let alone from across the street? Nay. I contribute nothing to my fine community but a sharply kept lawn, sparing them the roaring engines that pollute the ears and the exhaust that fouls the air. How dare anyone continue to use such archaic implements of mowing? With the amount of carbon those menaces loudly belch into the sky, they may as well just light their lawns on fire.
Wait. Am I becoming a mower snob?
Oh shit. I better rein it in a bit and reflect. Hmm. So, why is it that people aren't rushing to use what is obviously superior technology? I have a few ideas.
People hate change. My own father comes to mind when envisioning this exact trait. Dad has always been a handy fellow—good with tools and ready to tackle any home project. But he insists on doing all of this with the familiar implements he's always used.
An old exchange about cordless drills comes to mind.
"Dad, you should get a cordless drill instead of running a 100-foot extension cord out into the yard," I suggested.
"Why would I want one of those?!" he said, genuinely incredulous. "My drill works better than any cordless drill out there. They don't have enough power."
It's usually at this point that I stop arguing, as my father is an immovable object once his mind is set. This was in the early 2000s. I don't remember the exact year, but I do know that cordless drills at the time were just as powerful, if not more so, than their corded counterparts.
So, I did what any good son would do: I bought his ass a cordless drill.
I will say his reaction was positive, and he seemed genuinely intent on "trying it out." Which he did. Soon after, I got a phone call from my mom relating the entire experience.
"Your dad finally tried out that cordless drill you got him, and he said he was 'very impressed.' He's using it all the time now."
Huh. How about that? You can teach an old dog new tricks... if you force them to.
This story is representative of aging people everywhere, and not just when it comes to mowers and drills. After careful thought, I realized that the older we get, the more resistant we become to change. I often catch myself falling into this exact cliché. I'll look at new technologies, trends, or music and think, "Ugh! Why would anyone like that when the old stuff is so much better? It just works! Bleh!"
That's when I answered my own question about those archaic mowers. Why would anyone buy a newfangled E-mower when their trusty gas-guzzling companion has worked fine their entire life? The short answer is: they wouldn't.
So there it is. It's not that people are so set in their ways that they're totally unwilling to try something new. It's that we are so inherently afraid of change and disruption that we will actively ignore the potential for something better, just to keep something comfortable. Something known.
Try to be more cognizant of your own biases. I know I've been rambling about lawnmowers, but that's just the vehicle for this newfound enlightenment. Do a little reflection before shitting all over something new. Ask yourself: Is this actually worse than what I currently have, do, or think? Or am I just being resistant to change?
My guess is it's usually the latter. (Though you will never convince me that music today is better than it was in the 90s. I will readily die on that hill.)
Go try something new, like buying an electric mower. My ears, and the environment, will thank you for it. Thanks for reading, and let me know in the comments what hill you are willing to die on when it comes to change. I might just be willing to die on it with you.
Dad out.
