Challenged
There comes a time in every man's life when he is required to pass a rite of passage, to step up to a challenge and prove his mettle. There comes a time when a boy must become a man, strong of Y chromosome and capable of doing what needs to be done. Yesterday that time came for me.
Yes, I bought my first chainsaw.
True, it's not much of a chainsaw. It's an 1800w electric model, which is the chainsaw equivalent of Justin Bieber. It was the cheapest one I could find at Bunnings, which means that it's built in a Chinese sweatshop from parts that don't quite fit together, and it will last about as long as the average Facebook fad.
Still, it's a chainsaw. It has sharp pointy teeth that spin around very fast, making a lot of manly noise as they do so. And it reduced the unwanted tree in my front yard to kindling and woodchips within minutes. Then I was able to replant the space with some lovely rosemary and put in a little decorative border.
Before (ugly overgrown conifer)
After (attractive delicious herbs)
The other benefit of this purchase is that I am now a Bloke Who Has A Chainsaw. I used to be the guy who had to go, cap in hand, to a Bloke Who Has A Chainsaw and ask to borrow the chainsaw, when I had a tree that needed felling or some serious pruning to do. Now I will have guys coming to me and asking to borrow my chainsaw, thus proving themselves to be emasculated ladymen and proving me to be a red-blooded, chainsaw-owning bloke.
And when the chainsaw is eventually returned, I can join with my fellow Blokes Who Have Chainsaws in complaining that the cutting teeth are blunted, that the chain is too slack, and that some people just don't know how to maintain power tools. They will grunt in assent, and then we will drink beer.
Yes, I bought my first chainsaw.
True, it's not much of a chainsaw. It's an 1800w electric model, which is the chainsaw equivalent of Justin Bieber. It was the cheapest one I could find at Bunnings, which means that it's built in a Chinese sweatshop from parts that don't quite fit together, and it will last about as long as the average Facebook fad.
Still, it's a chainsaw. It has sharp pointy teeth that spin around very fast, making a lot of manly noise as they do so. And it reduced the unwanted tree in my front yard to kindling and woodchips within minutes. Then I was able to replant the space with some lovely rosemary and put in a little decorative border.
Before (ugly overgrown conifer)
After (attractive delicious herbs)
The other benefit of this purchase is that I am now a Bloke Who Has A Chainsaw. I used to be the guy who had to go, cap in hand, to a Bloke Who Has A Chainsaw and ask to borrow the chainsaw, when I had a tree that needed felling or some serious pruning to do. Now I will have guys coming to me and asking to borrow my chainsaw, thus proving themselves to be emasculated ladymen and proving me to be a red-blooded, chainsaw-owning bloke.
And when the chainsaw is eventually returned, I can join with my fellow Blokes Who Have Chainsaws in complaining that the cutting teeth are blunted, that the chain is too slack, and that some people just don't know how to maintain power tools. They will grunt in assent, and then we will drink beer.
posted by Blandwagon at 1:51 PM
6 Comments:
Herbaceous borders are so masculine.
I figure that rosemary is closely associated with roast lamb, which is closely associated with raw meat, which is closely associated with primal manliness.
Also the flowers are pretty.
Now you can use the chainsaw every time the herbacious borders need a little trimming. Or for shaving. Or as a handy paper weight for books when it's windy. Or possibly all of the above, at once.
It used to be that electric chain saws were somewhat feeble and unmanly. Only petrol based ones had the power and danger enough . Well enough that you had to count your finges after use.
I wonder if I could use a chainsaw to prune the roses?
If you wish to borrow it, Tara, just send your husband over with his cap in hand.
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