Savage Words: You don’t need lights on a lawn mower ... well, maybe

Ah, the sounds of summer.

Birds singing, the crack of a baseball bat making contact, chirping crickets, a refreshing drink making its way through a glass full of ice.

All sounds of summer.

And lawnmowers.

I actually don’t mind the sound of a lawnmower. I like to do it myself. My yard is extremely small, but when I finish mowing my lawn, I feel a real sense of pride. 

I stand back, look at it, give it a nod, as if to say, “You know you look good, thanks to me.”

But the other day, I guess I had one of my first old man moments. Perhaps this is normal, but being awakened to a lawn mower at 7 a.m. seemed a bit much. Somebody in my neighbor’s yard was hard at it at 7, which seemed … early. No?

What is the appropriate time to start mowing a lawn?

I’m certain there’s not a hard and fast rule for it, but 7? That seemed early, and I had to find out.

Turns out, I’m not alone. 

On better-lawn-care.com, there is a mowing etiquette page on their site. I would have never thought, but apparently, I’m not the only one that’s been brought out of a slumber by a lawnmower. 

The page says the most courteous time to mow a lawn is 8 a.m.-noon, and 3-6 p.m. What goes on between noon and 3, I have no idea.

Here’s what the page says … seriously:

TOO EARLY

“If you do it too early, you will be disturbing your neighbors’ sleep. You will also be starting them in a bad mood since there is nothing as unpleasant as the constant roaring of mowing machinery right after a person has woken up. It will be stressful for them. It will be irritating. And the resulting early-morning disruption can easily breed bad blood.”

Um, yes. I agree, says the old man creeping out of me.

After I woke, I went out to walk my dog at about 7:30, and it was then I realized the lawn mowing culprit was a hired landscape crew, still working on my neighbor’s yard. The guy was trimming some bushes with a hand snipper, and I wondered why he couldn’t have done that at 7 instead of firing up the mower.

“Tad early to be mowing, no,” I asked him. 

My neighbor is actually a good guy, which is why the start of the Indianapolis 500 next door seemed strange at such an early time. The hired landscaping crew guy helped answer that question.

“I have a lot to do today,” the hired hand said.

I get that. I’ve usually got a lot to do, although mine is sitting at a coffee shop knocking out stories for the newspaper. No doubt his job is harder than mine, and I can appreciate wanting to get a head start.

The landscape worker looked less than thrilled to be talking to me. But I kept the conversation going.

I pointed to the house across the street. “What if that guy’s a bartender,” I said. 

To be honest, I have no idea if the guy across the street is a bartender. He could be a vampire for all I know, but either way, a 7 a.m. lawnmower wakeup call seemed excessive.

“If he is,” I said, referring to the bartender and not the vampire of course. “Then he just got home a few hours ago.”

That didn’t seem to faze the guy. He sort of rolled his eyes, tipped his sweat-filled baseball cap towards me, and just kept trimming.

I have nothing against my neighbor. Again, he’s a good dude. 

I’m sure the lawn care worker is a good guy, too. But if I could figure out where he lived. Oooh, if I could. I’d tape a flashlight to my mower and get after it around 11 p.m.

Perhaps the neighborhood bartender could take a break and join me.

All that being said, I chalk it up to getting older, grumpier. I hope that’s not the case, but in the meantime: “Hey you kids, get off my lawn!”