My luck ran out yesterday, woe was me. I was happily mowing the lawn with my trusty Craftsman electric mower when things started to go south on me. The mower often gets clogged when the grass is damp which is no big deal, I just flip it on its side and scoop out the clog. The mower slowed down so I released the safety switch and flipped it on its side but there was no clog so I just righted the machine and carried on. It still didn't seem right so I flipped it over again looking for a clump of grass but it was all clear. I was perplexed.
I continued on my merry way but it still didn't seem right so I flipped over again and noticed a little smoke around the blade. I had smelled something a little strange but thought it was just one of my international neighbors cooking some lovely ethnic cuisine. Now I knew what the smell was and what it meant, the mower was on borrowed time. I decided to take a break to let the smoke clear. After 20 minutes I returned to the scene of the crime and finished the area I was cutting. It's time for a new mower.
Luckily, I have a spare mower, a wonderful Craftsman gas mower I bought to cut my dad's grass a few years ago. But I'm not finished with the electric mower. Next time the grass needs cut, I'm going to fire up the electric mower and keep cutting until the son of bitch erupts in flames. I didn't get to where I am today by letting a chinese lawn mower scare me. I'm actually looking forward watching it go up in flames.
It's nice to use something until it explodes rather than disposing of it before it's time is up. Kinda like wearing an old pair of Levi's until the crotch and knees are nothing but threads.
Twenty years ago I would have taken the kids outside and said, "here, hold my drink and watch this!" Then maybe roasted a few marshmallows over the flaming carcass.
Billy says he loves you sons of bitches.