Man buy riding lawn mower. Man cry tears of joy.

Gazette, The (Colorado Springs), Jul 16, 2002 by Rich Tosches

If there's one thing the average wife hates, it's watching her husband lounging around the house on a weekend, doing nothing. "Look at him," she'll whisper to her friends. "Just sitting there. Resting."

So today I would like to tell you why I consider myself the luckiest guy on Earth: My wife let me buy a riding lawn mower.

We live on a couple of acres of woods and grass. And it's not that I disliked mowing the gigantic expanse of tough, wild grass with my 15-year-old mower and its tiny engine. Oh sure, the total exhaustion, muscle spasms and vomiting took a little getting used to.

But when I was done and the sun had begun to set on yet another sweltering hot day and I'd accomplished the impossible and had regained consciousness, I'd stand there beside my mower, sweat covering every inch of my body, and proudly say:

"Yes! I've finally started the $%^&*# lawn mower!"

I'd always been jealous of the guys who had riding mowers. The giant safety goggles. The lime green Bermuda shorts nestled against the padded seat. The white socks pulled up to their knees.

Some guys just have it all.

Anyway, I went to Wal-Mart at 7 a.m. Saturday with my usual weekly grocery list. Cocoa Pebbles. Fruit Loops. Salami. Juice. Dog food. Frozen pizza. Unfortunately, Wal-Mart was out of frozen pizza. Apparently Councilman Charles Wingate had arrived at 6 a.m. driving a city Utilities forklift.

But I never made it to the grocery section.

Outside on the sidewalk, glistening in the early morning sun, was the second-most impressive lineup of riding lawn mowers I'd ever seen. The most impressive was in former City Manager Jim Mullen's back yard a few years ago after he officially declared May 8 "Employees Spruce Up The King's Polo Field Day."

There, among the mowers, was the most manly looking machine you could imagine. The Snapper-brand rear-engine riding mower. Series 190000. Powerful Briggs & Stratton engine. Five-speed gear box. Four blade-height settings. Twenty-eight-inch cutting deck.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I pulled the cell phone from my pocket and called my wife.

"Riding lawn mowers," I began, hoping to win her over with my eloquence. "Uh, need one ... big ... mow everything ... fast ... big mow everything now."

She said, "Go ahead."

I think it had occurred to her at that very moment that buying a new lawn mower would be a lot easier than having to stay on the phone and grapple with the fact she'd married an idiot.

An hour later, the bright red Snapper Series 190000 wedged into the back of my old Suburban, I pulled into the driveway and wrestled the beast out and into my driveway.

Susie looked at it, her eyes focusing on an area on the steering column known as the ignition and - I'm not kidding - said this: "Did you get the key?"

Forty minutes later, with the Snapper Series 190000 wedged back into my Suburban, I arrived back at Wal-Mart and inquired about the possibility of getting this all-important key.

Women. They think they know everything.

Back home - with the key - I sat down and read the entire 55-page operator's manual, including a warning that tragedies can occur "if the operator is not alert to the presence of children."

This is a standard warning printed today on many things, especially tickets for the Air Force Academy cadets' performance of Monty Python skits in local restaurants.

Anyway, I now have a riding lawn mower. And as this long, hot summer rolls on, I'll pause often to say a prayer of thanks for the mower - and for the person who let me get it.

And, of course, I'll also pray I can learn to mow the lawn without looking like I'm resting.