I guess the year was 1956. I was about 12 years old when my Dad surprised me with a beginning of summer present... a Gasoline Powered Rotary Lawnmower. I mean this was the katz pajamas - state of the art - landscaping marvel. We were the early innovators of Evelyn Park. By the way, here's the house I was raised in most all of my teenage years - 24 Evelyn Park.
I could very well have charged my friends five cents a piece to take a turn mowing my lawn with that incredible machine. So the chore of mowing the lawn was a pleasure. And to get fifty cents in payment was icing on the cake.
Very early that summer my Dad asked me to take a ride with him. He drove to Mrs. Scarafoni house which was deep in a very aged residential area about 2 miles from our house. I had seen Mrs. Scarafoni at my Great Grandma and Grandma's house many times and really, I wasn't sure if she was a relative or not. I can remember thinking she was about 110 years old. Doesn't matter - all my Grandma's friends and my folk's friends were just as tight as family.
So Dad stops in front of her house and says "I want you to mow her lawn every week this summer. Don't bother her, just mow the lawn and I will pay you $1.00 each week". A few days pass and I told my Dad I was going to mow her lawn today. He said good and that he would give me $1.00 when he got home from work.
"But Dad.. aren't you going to drive me there?".
The answer was NO... "the lawn mower has ball bearing wheels so you can wheel it there, mow the lawn, and wheel it back - that's why I am paying you $1.00 for mowing such a little lawn."
What the heck.. no big deal and so every week that summer I would push that lawn mower the 2 miles back and forth, and every week my Dad paid me $1.00. It was toward the end of summer when my Dad came home one day hopping mad - at ME!
He started yelling which always preceeded the spanking - he had hands like a catcher's mit and had a way to spread the force over my butt. The balling out went something like this....
"I have been paying you $1.00 a week, every week this summer because you kept telling me that you were mowing Mrs. Scarafoni's lawn. I picked her up at your Grandma's house and gave her a ride home ... and what do I see? A jungle... NOT a lawn... A JUNGLE! What do you have to say for yourself... and by the way, you're grounded for a month and will not get a penny allowance until you pay me back all the money I have given you!"
BUT DAD! I HAVE BEEN mowing her lawn. I HAVE.
He says "Get in the car - we'll see about that". And so we drove over - my Dad stopped the car and started yelling again. When I could I said... this is NOT Mrs. Scarafoni's house Dad - THAT one is, pointing to her next door neighbor's lawn which was manicured with my famous cross cut pattern.
My Dad rarely laughed ... but on this occasion, he roared.
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