DANDELION, DANDY LAWNThe American Grass Culture
by Wendel Potter
May 7, 2006
In Matthew 6, Jesus said, "Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. "
About the only time I consider a lily is in church or on the Easter Clearance rack at Wal-Mart. But I do happen to consider dandelions with more than just a passing interest.
Most guys I know consider dandelions, too. They consider them to be noxious, oppressive weeds. Their interest is to kill them on the spot.
I take the Solomon approach to dandelions. To me, my yard is arrayed in splendor when dandelions pop up in all their bright yellow glory looking like a gazillion little suns.
Notice I say yard. I hesitate to call what I have a lawn.
Lawn is what those other guys, those dandelion-haters, struggle to have in front and behind their houses. If they can produce a carpet of lush green grass as thick as Ted Koppel's hair and without those invasive dandelions, they can officially call it a lawn.
Of course they achieve lawn status by putting in hours and hours of weekend labor or by hiring a lawn service. Big bucks are spent on gallons and gallons of chemicals that are applied to the land, whether you do it yourself or contract a lawn service.
There are, by the way, no yard services. A true yard service would do nothing but mow down the dandelions. Two hours later, they spring back up. Dandelions are resilient little bastards.
The lawn culture in this country has grown stronger over the past thirty years or so, along with SUVs, Soccer Moms, Prenatal Swim Teams, and Scientology. To have an emerald-green, dandelion- and thistle-free, neatly manicured lawn is part of a crowning glory in the social climbing strata.
These lawns are also dog doodoo-free as well. The reason for that is that people with lawns such as these walk their dogs and allow them to poop in another man's yard.
"Look at all those dandelions, Spot! Why don't you go take a dump amongst them?"
When I was a kid, people strived to have nice yards. But they were YARDS! And that's what we called them.
My father always had a beautiful stand of grass and did his best to keep the weeds down, but if a dandelion did happen to pop up, he wasn't out there with a grenade, ready to blow it to smithereens. He fertilized, he watered, he mowed. Then he showered, ate, and yelled at us.
Dad was particular about the appearance of his property, but not to the extent that he feared he might be blackballed from a country club membership over one or two friggin' dandelions in the front yard.
Excuse me, on the front lawn.
Forty years ago we kids played in the yard. That's what kids did. We ran across the grass, playing Hide-and-Seek, Red Rover, and Croquet.
These days you don't see kids running willy-nilly on the grass, laughing and playing and having a good time. Parents have devised methods to preserve the rich beauty of their half-million dollar mortgaged estates.
Obviously, it was parents who invented VCRs and Video Games, in order to keep the children in their rooms and off the lawn. And when they tire of that, Mom can stick them in the minivan and run their little hineys all over town to dance, gymnastics, volleyball, and to work the booth at the latest fundraiser that will send the kids on a trip to Volunteer Camp where they learn to build houses for illegal immigrants. This will get them out of the house and off the lawn for another three weeks.
There's nothing wrong with having a nice lawn. But I enjoy my yard.
Having a lawn is like covering the living room furniture with plastic. At first sight and from a fair distance, it looks elegant. Up close, it looks like it's covered with plastic and you don't dare sit on it.
This is why I don't get uptight about dandelions. I fertilize, I water, I mow.
Then I walk on my grass. So does the mailman.
My dog poops in the yard. So does the mailman.
What's a few dandelions going to hurt? I don't grow lilies.
Copyright 2006 Wendel Potter
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