Sickle

I have had this blog up for two months and I have already had 16 views. So, I guarantee that Jimmy has seen it. He's probably the only one who knows me from my grass cutting days. I had way more money at age 14 than I do now. I have just rediscovered how much I love to cut the lawn. I used to pop a tape in my Walkman and keep a second in my pocket. '94 was the height of my lawn cutting empire and the music that kept me going was Rakim, the Smiths, Helmet, that first Mobb Deep with 'Project Hallways,' courtesy of Luke Belz, and I loved Porno for Pyros.

It's a beautiful feeling to cut a lawn. You finish, you're tired and sweaty, you worked and you look back at the alternating rows of light and dark green, savor that moment, and then you collect your money and do something else.

I can't even comment on how good it feels though to cut the grass with a sickle. The first time I did it I needed some instruction but I caught on pretty quickly. Today (not what the pictures show) I got it down. People try to pay me. I will be walking down the street with someone and tell him or her that I'll see them later because I've just seen someone cutting the grass and before I speak, I've decided that I am going to cut the grass. No one has ever said, "No, you can't do it. I want to do it all myself," when I ask to take over.

If you cut what they call a DEKA, which is 100 meters x 10 meters, you get paid 20 leva. Not bad. That's 20 beers or lots of candy...and I don't know the price of anything else. I do it just for fun though.

I have tried but I haven't found a job for which I'm better suited than cutting grass.