Contributor Post Created with Sketch. Mo’ De La’ — Jeffrey Earl Warren

 

The quarterback on my high school football team used to say that the only foreign phrase his father used was “Mo’ de La’.” That was French for “Cut the grass.” As kids, we all were well versed in variations of that theme.

I was reminded of that recently, at a funeral. The father of one of my friends had died. My friend and his brothers waxed eloquent about their father’s character. He was a member of the Greatest Generation — a giant who had raised three sons now raising giants of their own.

The church was brought to tears as one son recounted how Dad had taken them to dinner in San Francisco for a rare night out. Cinerama was the new hot thing—showing at only one theater. “Dad” was taking the wife and boys to an expensive movie — and a real restaurant as well. We could all relate to this. Those of us of a certain age remember our own fathers making a big to-do out of “going to the City” to eat in a “fancy” restaurant (anything that didn’t provide counter service was considered fancy to us). 

Eating out was an occasion that didn’t happen more than two or three times a year. In our family, it was all about Tarentino’s down on Fisherman’s Wharf. I can’t tell you the thrill of ordering a club house sandwich (a dollar, no questions asked) and the excitement of plastic toothpicks and Shirley Temples with cherries on top.

As we live in the Napa Valley, my kids find themselves in world-class restaurants at least once every couple of weeks. They have the luxury of being picky about various eateries that folks from around the world come to patronize. That’s life in the wine country.

But I digress.

The crux of my friend’s story was that, during the movie previews, his father got up and left. He came back some 20 minutes into the show, sopping wet. At the end of the feature, he told the kids that, once he sat down, he realized that the restaurant had undercharged him. He got up and, without an umbrella, walked four blocks up and four blocks back in the rain to make good on his bill. 

This Lincolnesque tale choked us up, but came as no surprise.

The next story was about how “Dad” insisted that there was only one way to mow the lawn. The wheel had to overlap the previous cut by 4 inches. The lawn was to be cut north and south, and then east and west. Then the edges were to be cut with a hand clipper and squared off with a sharp edger. Bingo! He forgot to mention that all the clippings had to be swept up off the sidewalk, but that flashed through each of our minds—how could we forget?.

We remembered because we were all descended from a generation that not only went to war to save the world from global fascism, but, thanks to the GI Bill (and 3% money), was also the first to own homes en masse.

For better or worse, they were the first suburbanites. And a home was nothing if it didn’t have a lawn. 

Now, I’ll leave it to Joseph Campbell to tell you about the mythological significance of the savannah and the meaning of a patch of grass attached to the modern homestead. Suffice it to say that anyone who had a house had a lawn. And anyone who had a lawn could be found surrounded by kids every Saturday morning, mowing it, raking it, clipping it. It was an American rite.

Block after block, house after house, the man in the gray flannel suit during the week was in his Levis on Saturday tending that grass. 

Of course, we kids hated every minute of it. The mowers were heavy and hard to push, the clipping tedious. But the pay was 25 cents, which was enough to get one into a Saturday matinee.

My friend, however, wasn’t reminiscing about lawns, movies, or restaurants. He was remembering a man who epitomized a generation that did it right—whatever it was. He led by example.

The code was simple.There were no situational ethics. Undercharged? Make it right. No internal debates about corporate profits and rip-offs. Mowing a lawn? Only one way to do it: the right way. Clipping a lawn by hand? Was it hard? Tedious? You bet. Saturday mornings were a pain on the grass. 

And yet, what each of us wouldn’t give today for just one more Saturday with dad, cracking the whip and showing the way. The only way.

There are 12 comments.

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  1. Pilli Inactive

    The first lawn I mowed was on the top of the hill and the lawn relatively flat. I was 10 and small. The mower was a bear to push–weighed as much as I did and was me propelled. A few years later Dad built a new house across the street and a few houses down — on the side of the hill. The front yard was flat and small. The rest of the yard was steep and large. Then Dad bought the lot next door. The whole thing was 2+ acres and steep. My brother and I called it the Ponderosa and it took 3 days to get it all mowed. During the spring, when the grass was shooting up, we mowed every day except Sunday. Dad would check to see that there weren’t any “holidays” in the mowing. No missed patches. And no quarters for doing it. We had food, a bed, a house, etc. We contributed. 

    Now I have a 48″ lawn tractor for my own lawn. I don’t miss mowing with the push mower. I just wish Dad were here to see my lawn and how well he taught me to keep it.

    • #1
    • March 26, 2014, at 10:23 AM PDT
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  2. Jeffrey Earl Warren Contributor
    Jeffrey Earl Warren

    Pilli: Now I have a 48″ lawn tractor for my own lawn. I don’t miss mowing with the push mower. I just wish Dad were here to see my lawn and how well he taught me to keep it.

     Funny how that which we hated as kids means so much to us as adults–especially where are fathers (or mothers) are concerned. Sounds like your dad “Done Good,” by all of you

    • #2
    • March 26, 2014, at 10:33 AM PDT
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  3. Albert Arthur Coolidge

    I love mowing the lawn. Of course, we had a rider from the time I was about 13. But we lived in the country, and even with the rider, it took me about 3 hours to mow everything. Mostly, because I expanded the lawns to be about twice what the had been before I took over the responsibility for tending to them. We lived next door to my grandmother, so the lawns included her front yard, the lawn by her driveway, backyard, the lawn (which I reclaimed from thorn bushes) on the hill behind her barn, my parents front-front yard by the road, the lawn by the clotheslines, the (lush, green) lawn over the septic tank, the side lawn, the back lawn, the front lawn, the western lawn, the path to the blueberry bushes. 

    Living in New York City really chafes.

    I’d show you my glorious lawns on Google Earth, but then you’d know where my father lives.

    • #3
    • March 26, 2014, at 12:45 PM PDT
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  4. Aaron Miller Member
    Aaron Miller Joined in the first year of Ricochet Ricochet Charter Member

    Are lawnmowers common in Europe and elsewhere in the world?

    I can understand the pride in owning land. I can understand the pride in shaping that land to one’s will. But what’s so impressive about neatly trimmed grass? Is it anything more than a stunted field or an empty garden?

    Of course, if you’re making a football field, that’s entirely understandable!

    Jeffrey Earl Warren: My friend, however, wasn’t reminiscing about lawns, movies, or restaurants. He was remembering a man who epitomized a generation that did it right—whatever it was. He led by example.

    Work for work’s sake smacks of communism rather than the American dream, which is why I question the value of a mowed lawn. But the attitude that, “If you’re going to do something, do it right” is certainly honorable.

    • #4
    • March 26, 2014, at 3:53 PM PDT
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  5. Jeffrey Earl Warren Contributor
    Jeffrey Earl Warren

    Albert Arthur: we had a rider from the time I was about 13.

     ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Not sure that qualifies for the torture of pushing that lawn mower which was so heavy one couldn’t even lift it alone to put in a truck. “Riding a lawn mower” is like trimming a hedge with ban electric trimmer or “raking leaves” with a blower. However, you’ve got the right spirit–and who could have “push mowed” an acre?

    • #5
    • March 26, 2014, at 4:38 PM PDT
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  6. Jeffrey Earl Warren Contributor
    Jeffrey Earl Warren

    Aaron Miller: Work for work’s sake smacks of communism rather than the American dream, which is why I question the value of a mowed lawn. But the attitude that, “If you’re going to do something, do it right” is certainly honorable.

     An interesting analogy and one “The Greatest Generation” would have taken great offense to. They HATED communism and would have been flabbergasted at the mere hint that doing a job right, because it’s the right thing to do, smacked at all of anything to do with communism.

    They were more of the Epictitus mode–that there was only one way to do things–and that was the right way. They were regimented and they became the very definition of “Establishment”–but they couldn’t help themselves. And eventually, we all ended up loving them for it.

    • #6
    • March 26, 2014, at 4:45 PM PDT
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  7. Profile Photo Member

    J.E.W., Wonderful post; I was raised by the “Lawn Ranger”, too…Watched my two brothers push/ride/edge/rake – with alternating passes. (One of them is still doing it – on his own place *and* at our Dad’s. Riding now, though.)…Thanks, again!

    • #7
    • March 26, 2014, at 4:52 PM PDT
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  8. Aaron Miller Member
    Aaron Miller Joined in the first year of Ricochet Ricochet Charter Member

    Jeffrey Earl Warren:

    Aaron Miller: Work for work’s sake smacks of communism rather than the American dream, which is why I question the value of a mowed lawn. But the attitude that, “If you’re going to do something, do it right” is certainly honorable.

    An interesting analogy and one “The Greatest Generation” would have taken great offense to. They HATED communism and would have been flabbergasted at the mere hint that doing a job right, because it’s the right thing to do, smacked at all of anything to do with communism. [….]

    Well, that’s fine, because that isn’t what I said.

    Taking pride in meaningful work is good. Performing a job to the best of one’s ability is good.

    What is not good and what I likened to communism is valuing work apart from the results of that labor.

    Granted, there’s honor in doing whatever’s expected of you because you trust that your boss or general doesn’t have you running in circles. But if you’re working for yourself, as a homeowner is when he mows the lawn, you should take pride in the results and not just the work.

    • #8
    • March 26, 2014, at 5:12 PM PDT
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  9. Aaron Miller Member
    Aaron Miller Joined in the first year of Ricochet Ricochet Charter Member

    At risk of belaboring a point nobody is interested in, let me put it this way…

    The Soviets had an expression: “I pretend to work, and they pretend to pay me.” Millions of communist citizens were going through the motions without actually contributing anything. That absence of reward and productivity defined communist economics.

    Under FDR, our government payed farmers to let fields lie fallow in hope of counteracting deflation. Farmers were in effect paid to not work. Suppose that such a farmer worked anyway, and burned whatever crops he harvested. Would that be honorable work?

    What do we wish our children to learn about hard work? Is it that there is honor in a stressed mind, aching muscles, hunger and thirst? Or is that a person can achieve much, produce much, if he is willing to endure the struggle to get it? Without a worthy goal, labor is self-waste at best and self-abuse at worst.

    As a Christian, I believe that fruitful labor can be a form of worship. But simply moving heavy stones back and forth without purpose isn’t worthy of a human being. Hard work, like life itself, is made worthy by a noble pursuit.

    • #9
    • March 26, 2014, at 7:01 PM PDT
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  10. Cow Girl Thatcher

    Aaron: I did not get the impression that any of those Old School fathers were being respected by their grown children because the children were reminiscing about “make work.” If they were raised by people like my parents–that generation who grew up in the Depression and became adults during WWII– then work was what you did so you could eat. Now, mowing a lawn to exaggerated specs might not seem vital to existence; but it is vital to teach your children that what one owns (by the sweat of one’s brow) is worth maintaining to a high standard. The goal might not seem evident to the child. But–again–maybe it wasn’t just the lawn that was important. More likely it was the lesson: you learn self-respect by doing hard things and by contributing to the upkeep of the family and home. My farmer parents raised, not just cows and crops, but self-sufficient children. Yeah, we whined fairly often. But as an adult, I’m so glad I learned how to persist in a mindless job because it had to be done that day. And the next. And the next…

    • #10
    • March 26, 2014, at 10:13 PM PDT
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  11. Jeffrey Earl Warren Contributor
    Jeffrey Earl Warren

    Cow Girl:
    Aaron: I did not get the impression that any of those Old School fathers were being respected by their grown children because the children were reminiscing about “make work.” If they were raised by people like my parents–that generation who grew up in the Depression and became adults during WWII– then work was what you did so you could eat. Now, mowing a lawn to exaggerated specs might not seem vital to existence; but it is vital to teach your children that what one owns (by the sweat of one’s brow) is worth maintaining to a high standard. The goal might not seem evident to the child. But–again–maybe it wasn’t just the lawn that was important. More likely it was the lesson: you learn self-respect by doing hard things and by contributing to the upkeep of the family and home. My farmer parents raised, not just cows and crops, but self-sufficient children. Yeah, we whined fairly often. But as an adult, I’m so glad I learned how to persist in a mindless job because it had to be done that day. And the next. And the next…

     
    Cow Girl,

    Wish I had been this articulate. You summed it up perfectly. Good on ya’ mate!

    • #11
    • March 27, 2014, at 9:27 AM PDT
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  12. Jeffrey Earl Warren Contributor
    Jeffrey Earl Warren

    Array

    • #12
    • March 27, 2014, at 11:10 AM PDT
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