Apocalypse Autumn

 Join the movement. Available at: http://www.zazzle.com/leaf_blower_t_shirt-235713322825614700

 Lieutenant Colonel Bill Kilgore in Apocalypse Now emoted about how he loved the smell of napalm in the morning. Equally as stimulating is the sound of leaf-blowers at 7 a.m. in a suburban neighborhood. Whoever invented leaf-blowers should be flown to the International Court of Justice in the Hague, Netherlands, to be tried for crimes against humanity. While I am not an advocate for the death penalty, this might be one deserving exception.

When I was young, there were no leaf-blowers—only people with rakes. The rhythmic thrashing sound of rakes combing the lawns was quite soothing. And while it was eventually banned for ecological reasons, the smell of burning leaves was autumnal incense that appealed to the zen pyromaniac in me.

That pastoral scene was not to remain. Instead, some sadistic moron with a marketing plan had to invent a gas-gulping noise machine that disturbs the peace and contributes to communal deafness. God forbid we should actually have to put some physical effort into anything. No more family raking, jumping around in the leaves and bagging or composting. We’re too busy reenacting that on Simms City with a circus clown.

The average blower packs 70 to 75 decibels of ear-numbing vibration at 50 feet according to a manufacturer's lobbyist, and is most likely louder at a closer distance. Leaf-blowers are routinely used less than 50 feet from unconsenting pedestrians and neighboring homes that may be occupied by long-suffering people like you and me.

The World Health Organization recommends a general daytime outdoor noise level of 55 decibels or less, and no more than 45 decibels to meet sleep criteria. That means that even a 65-decibel leaf-blower would be 100 times* too loud to allow healthful sleep, which in my house is often trying to occur at 7 a.m. on any given day.

Sometimes advocates of the Devil’s Yard Tool try to justify motorized ear torture by comparing it to the 65 decibels of a normal conversation. Right. I don’t care what study you cite, NO normal conversation sounds like a leaf-blower and no one with any common sense would buy that. You can sell that argument to the EPA along with the Brooklyn Bridge.

I imagine laziness and leaf-blowers are here to stay. So I’d just like to make one small request: Could the same genius who invented the Gardening Tool From Hell also invent a quiet motor for it? If guns can be silenced then so can leaf-blowers. It's all a matter of priorities. So give it a try. It just might earn you a nomination for the Nobel Peace Prize.

*From 45 decibels to 65 decibels is two ten-fold increases, or 10 x 10.

Stop Whining About Summer

Recently, I have seen a number of posts on the Internet in which people whine about the end of summer, as if it will never come back. Don’t worry. Come June 21, 2011 at 1:16 p.m. EDT, it will return with plenty of 90+-degree days to keep you happily dehydrated. It’s been great, but now it’s done. Get over it.

Don’t get me wrong: I like the long, sunny days of summer, but heat at this point in my life is redundant. I generate enough of my own. Give me autumn with its brisk temperatures and bright confetti leaves crunching under my feet. My neighbors’ wood-burning stoves scent the air with pyro-maniacal perfume and the howling winds outside make my toasty home feel delightfully cozy.

Autumn marks the harvest, and with it, some rich holiday traditions. First, there's Halloween, which allows us to revisit our childhood. Then there's Thanksgiving, a wonderful nondenominational event that reunites families—albeit for one precious day. They both revolve around my favorite pastime of all—food.

When I pull out my cool weather clothes and pack up my summer duds, it feels like I suddenly have a whole new wardrobe. Turtle neck shirts, slacks and boots are a welcome and comfortable change. Yes, I like summer apparel, but cool weather clothes cover up flaws that their warm weather counterparts leave exposed. And who could be sorry to see humid, bad-hair days replaced by dryer air that eliminates the unisex Einstein look?

I recognize that some people may not live in parts of the country where the seasons change. There’s certainly nothing wrong with the year-round agreeable temperatures of, say, San Diego. Been there; loved it. But I grew up where there are four seasons and I would become bored if they didn’t change every three months. Maybe this is a sign of meteorological Attention Deficit Disorder, but I welcome the changes in weather, landscape and traditions as they unfold.

Now it is autumn’s turn. So grab your fall jacket, warm up some cider and pumpkin pie—and stop mourning the death of summer! It ain’t dead; it’s just passed out from the heat.