The mysterious lawn mower breakdown
It was a bright and sunny day. You didn’t expect a dark and stormy night in Imperial Valley did you? Too much Agatha Christie or something. Well, I wasn’t even home, but I got the phone call. First, where is the oil for the lawn mower? Then, next day, it won’t start. It’s a nice little lawn mower, Briggs and Stratton. That brand, and that it has been used all of two or three times, caused great disappointment and gnashing of teeth. What is wrong with products these days? They are obsolete before you can even get them dirty. Blah, blah, blah.
When I got back home, I figured, it must be something easy. Checked the gas reservoir. Looked empty so I filled it up. Pulled the start chord a few times. Nothing. Not even a partial catch. More mumbling about poor workmanship, cheap products, blah, blah, blah.
Next, I called Sears hoping the warranty would cover any defect on this cheap pile of machinery. I was directed to contact Miranda’s Small Engine Repairs on Main and Second streets in El Centro. So I drove by that day. There’s a front dirt yard filled with maybe a thousand lawn mowers and lawn mower frames from small push mowers to ride-on’s. We don’t own a pickup truck, and I have tapped our SUV-owning friend too often recently, but Juan Miranda said he’d pick it up for a small fee. OK.
He came by the next day and tried starting it in the front yard. No go. Must be something got stuck in the carburetor. He took off the carburetor cap and realized that was as far as he could go without tools. We’ll take it apart and clean it. The warranty won’t cover this. Yikes, I thought, what are warranties good for these days? What are lawn mowers made out of? Lego blocks? Where does this stuff come from? Yes. You guessed it, China. Blah, blah, blah. I was sounding more and more like Donald Trump. Why can’t these companies make stuff only in America? Let’s build a wall to keep out defective lawn mowers. Let’s not let in any non-Christian, non-capitalistic lawn mowers. That’ll teach them. Teach whom, I’m not sure.
So, I waved goodbye to our lawn mower. Off it went to small engine repairs. I had the presence of mind to attach a Holland America cruise name tag to it so it wouldn’t get lost in that sea of a thousand mowers at Miranda’s. It’s probably the first time in history that a lawn mower could get on a cruise ship if any were around.
Juan called next day. OK, I’m thinking, the breakdown mystery will be solved, and solved it was. He said there was oil in the gas tank, and that’s why it wouldn’t start. I have a feeling I know how that happened, I said. That evening as my beloved and I were in the front yard, she’s trimming and sweeping, the lawn mower issue came up. So what do you think happened, I asked? I dunno, she said. Well, they found oil in the gas tank. I didn’t do it. Understandable deniability. Where did you pour the engine oil, I asked? Where that big red cap is. Oh. That’s for the fuel, the gasoline. Oil and gas don’t usually mix.
That night lying in bed, we had a good laugh over it. In fact, I think my dear wife laughed herself to sleep. I hadn’t heard her laugh that hard in a year.
The next day, long wait it was, Juan came by with the revitalized, good as new mower. I was both relieved that the machine wasn’t defective, and perplexed that oil had been put in the fuel reservoir. That night the wind picked up, and my wife pushed that mower around the yard. It worked beautifully. I showed her where the secret oil cap is, and we live happily ever after.
Richard Ryan lives in El Centro and welcomes comments at rryan@mail.sdsu.edu