The Leaf Blower Wars – 03rd November 2020
Tags: Short Story, Humour, Leaf Blowers, Lifestyle, Gardening

The Leaf Blower Wars – 03rd November 2020

Photo by Valentin Salja on Unsplash

It’s all consuming. Apparently there’s another battle going on, for control of the country, trust me – this is bigger. Both our wives say – “grow up, you’re acting like boys with toys”, they couldn’t be more wrong. Unless you can handle your blower – you’re not a man!

What is the suburban definition of a real man – “he who can handle his BBQ and leaf blower”.

We’ve been neighbours for 7 years. We are in fact best friends, and the worst of enemies. Especially at the beginning of Autumn (Fall). Our respective wives and kids are also best friends, which creates moments of “agreed armistice”, but quietly the war rages on amongst the men. Korea’s got nothing on us.

Oh, and also at the beginning of summer – that’s “BBQ Wars” season. I especially hate him then. But that’s another story. He cheated last summer (in my EXPERT opinion), and purchased a Bradley Smoker to offer TWO “BBQ” options. He had an unfair advantage. His ‘smoker’ won, not him. I’ve come to despise the smug look on his face when the subject comes around. I’d NEVER rub it in like he does … NEVER. And his meat spice rub was nothing special – it was the smoker that did the heavy lifting. But fear not, fortunately a summer rolls around every year. 2021 is my year.

I even took my BBQ complaint to the ‘rules committee’ – but the ‘rules committee’ were busy watching “The Ranch” together – actually they’re really watching this guy named COLT, or Ashton something. But that’s another story. So it all comes down to the “Leaf King” of the Subdivision – it’s a fight I’m prepared to go through fire for. I’m not losing two battles in one year.

It’s Fall, leaves become serious business. Leaves can cause tempers to flare up – WHERE they fall can be an issue. I noticed my neighbour has purchased camouflage pants and Salomon boots for the upcoming “leaf wars of 2020”. He’s a bit cocky after his BBQ victory. But we all know, pride cometh before the fall (sic).

I’m in a t-shirt and flip flops, purposely. I’m relaxed and ‘biden’ my time. I look unprepared but it’s a ruse to lure Thomas (that’s my neighbour), into a false sense of security. I will trump him this time, with my superior equipment.

He’s still got the BLACK+DECKER LSW221 20V MAX Lithium Cordless blower. We bought them together three years ago, when leaves were not contentious. It produces air speed of 130 MPH.

However he doesn’t know – that I’ve upgraded! He’s invested in appearance, I’ve invested in ORDINANCE – weaponry is everything – I’m going full nuclear on his ass! I’ve got the Hitachi RB24EAP handheld blower. 170 MPH of throbbing air power under MY belt. He’s gonna be the rabbit in the headlights. My blower is a two-fingered throttle unit with a 2-stroke engine. Just saying that arouses me!

“Hey Thomas, your trees dropping leaves in my yard”, I call out.

“Oh yeah! What do you want me to do about it.” He smugly replies.

Even though we went ten pin bowling together last night, and have played on the same league team for 6-years, there is no love lost when it comes to leaves. I did outscore him last night as well. But that's another story. I'm not competitively petty like some other neighbours I know.

“I want you to DESIST”, I say. I’d looked that word up, and was happy to use it. “Or I’ll desist you and your tree!” I add.

It was a massive Maple Tree. I had a few Maples and an Elm as well. My garden was covered in fall leaves. I’d purposefully left them for “such a time as this”.

“I’m not god you know, I don’t control the wind and weather. But you mark out which leaves are mine and I’ll see what I can do. No promises”. He responds.

I think - “Bastardo”!

That’s a flagrant gauntlet throw down, not so?

I shout through the living room window, “Mary, your husband won’t collect his leaves off our property, you’d better speak to him.”

Time to form a coalition! A change up from me vs. him to everyone vs. loser.

“Don’t bring Mary in to fight your battles, WE’RE watching Ashton’s “Ranch” and staying out of this.” my wife responds. I’m sure she’s got Chinese blood – always with the veto.

I’m stunned. My own wife stabs me in the back and I also realise ‘ranch’ is now a euphemism for ASS. They’re gawking at Ashton’s ass, that’s all. What’s wrong with my ass, I’m thinking. But inwardly I’m happy, I’ve gone to the LBUN – Leaf Blowers United Nations — and the security council refused to vote. I have no choice, I declare war! Quietly. I have the element of surprise. I’m also smiling, victory is mine this day.

I go to the garage, haul out my weapon and ‘bandana up’. I’m ready to dispense a steady stream of 170 MPH air to blow away my neighbour … including his leaves and the memory of BBQ Wars. I also stub my toe in my flip flops on the pathway while going to war. Shit it hurts, but soldiers don’t cry.

I announce my arrival at the property border with a throbbing toe and a quick flick of my middle finger, the blower ROARS into life. Adrenaline washes through my body. My peripheral vision senses the enemy to my left, he’s got his camo pants and boots on. He knew it was going down, the sly bastard used my attempt to negotiate a peace treaty and get allies on my side, to get ready. Really sneaky. He’s walking toward me, casually holding his blower in his right hand, it’s laying limp against his thigh. Bastards trying to outflank me I think, and look nonchalant. It’s not working, I’m wise to his tactics.

I turn my blower to full on, and spray leaves at him. Omaha Beach scenes flash through my mind. An eerie screech forces its way out my mouth, he puts up a fight, but it’s no match. Within minutes I can’t see his boots, he is knee high in leaves … I press home my advantage, he’s going down, my front lawn now leaf free … in the thick of battle I lose track of time, I move to outflank him and start blowing leaves from the side of the house, then from the other side, it’s carnage. I’m about to push home my victory, to rub it in … yes yes I know I said I would never, but this is different. Men do crazy things when ‘pushed’ into war. This is a rout. Memories of people saying things like — ‘this is delicious smoked BBQ’ flood my frontal cortex, my eyes are like fire. (In my minds eye of course).

Through the excitement, the damage, the wail of a highly tuned blower, I hear my wife’s voice rising over the cacophony of war … “stop that immediately!” She shouts.

I stop, not immediately, I ‘snap’ triggered my throttle one last time … creating a swirl of leaves at him. I wont be pushed around, and then stopped. Both women rush to Thomas, he’s got leaves in his mouth – I swear he put them there, he’s coughing (it’s an act), his wife throws her arms around him, protectively, he folds into her arms like a puppy dog. My wife throws a look at me that says – ‘you’ve gone too far buddy boy’. I shrug defensively. I look around, not a single leaf within 200 paces of me. Quietly I’m jumping with victorious joy. But its all on the inside.

The two women collect Thomas and offer him coffee and a slice of chocolate cake. They wipe the grime off his face, re-arrange his hair, gently pry the blower out of his limp hand. Together they turn and head to the house, he looks back at me, winks and has that same smug victory look on his face. He’s won the hearts and minds. The art of war has changed … it’s all political now.

I shout out, “ I smoked your ass baby!”. All three turn and look at me as if I’d bombed a Red Cross facility.

“Baby, I stubbed my toe in the battle”, I say.

“Serves you right you bully”, my wife whips back. I rev my blower in defiance … just the once. Leadership is a lonely desolate place for victors and generals. It’s not true what they say about war, “to the victor go the spoils”. I shout out, “can I have cake”?

In unison the three turn as if one – “NO!”