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B-Rant- submitted by J.GLARSTEN on 07/15/2007Confessions Of A Recovering Leaf Blower Addict
I carried a leaf blower to places that many people didn't understand. Like to restaurants and (only sometimes) dinner parties. I thought leaf blowers could be used for a lot of things and I wanted to use them for those things. Like recreation. I enjoyed blowing things, even though they weren't leaves and even though some of the things I blew didn't belong to me (like my neighbors lawn furniture, also once their cat, who was OK, not really that hurt, after the doctor patched her up). I Now I can walk past home centers and hardware stores and not have to go inside and test the new models. I want to, but I can resist. I see my neighbors continuing to use leaf blowers on their lawns, and their landscapers using them to blow things that aren't leaves, but I don't. I'm OK with that. I use a rake now on our lawn. Even though rakes are hard to find. I don't use a leaf blower in the house, except once in a while in the basement play room. I do not participate in sporting events involving leaf blowers. It's one day at a time and, to be honest, I felt good asserting my self-control over them, even though truthfully I don't see anything wrong with what I was doing. Yes, once I decided to blow a pile of stones on a neighbor's driveway onto another neighbor's front lawn, a few houses down (it took only a couple minutes with my X700 upgraded model!), but I had fully intended to blow them back. I am not a vandal. I am not a deviant. I have a family. I work at a very prominent company in New York. You have heard of it. You would be amazed, like my neighbor's were amazed when they learned who I was, what I do for living. The media, I guess that's my profession. It bored me, though, how could it not, and I think it's good to try not to be bored. I am fine, though. I am getting better. I am committed. It's before 8:00 this morning and I hear leaf blowers blowing all over my street. As far as I can tell, none of the houses have leaves on their yards. But I can barely hear the blowers, I am not listening. I am going to have breakfast at the diner, buy a newspaper, probably the NY Post, buy an extra large Dunkin Donuts coffee, and then take the train to work. Life is good. Life is very good. If only . . . .
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