In mid-July of 2011, a giant dome formed over the eastern states. The result was several days of temperatures exceeding 90°. On one of those Sundays during the period of the dome, a major sound reached my ears. It was a one-lung engine, which was mounted on a lawnmower. The sound came from my immediate neighbor at 504 Long Hill Drive. This next-door neighbor has lived next to me for more than four years and he has yet to say “Hello.” When he arrived on the scene, I sent a bottle of French champagne to welcome him. Apparently he is not a large consumer of champagne. On one other occasion, my wife tried to signal to the owner of the house next door that I wished to speak with him. He was playing soccer with his two small children. He declined to interrupt his soccer game. While he does not speak to me, the family is quiet and I have no complaints on this score.
As you may know, grass cutters use a one-cylinder mower to cut the grass. On the day in question, conditions were that the temperature would reach the mid-nineties. And I recall that the last time his grass was cut was three weeks ago. This does not make it any easier. The name of the operator of the mowing machine is Mr. Feldman. From what I have been told, mainly by the people from whom he bought the house, Mr. Feldman and his family are orthodox Jews. This was fine with me because I am a non-believer in all religions. Upon the three occasions when Mr. Feldman has seen fit to cut his grass, it has always been on the Christian sabbath.
Short Hills, where I live, is a respectably quiet community, where grass cutting on a Sunday is frowned upon. I know that Mr. Feldman would not want to cut his grass upon the Jewish Sabbath of Saturday, so it seems that the only appropriate day for the grass cutting will occur on Sunday.
You may recall that Mr. Feldman lives in the house that had an appendage to the “for sale” sign stating, “I am gorgeous inside.” The house was on the market during all of the 2010 selling season and, again, it was placed upon the market at the beginning of April 2011. Apparently it was withdrawn from the market on about May 1st, and at that same time Mr. Feldman no longer employed his professional grass cutter. In the weeks since he ended his association with the professional grass cutter, Mr. Feldman has made an attempt on three occasions to cut his grass.
My wife and I were totally amazed to find that Mr. Feldman was actually trying to cut his own grass. I have lived in this house for 42 years and I cut my own grass until I could no longer see at the age of 82 or 83. At that time, I hired Antonio Salazar, a Costa Rican who has his green card, to cut my grass and shovel my snow.
As you may imagine, a high proportion of my neighbors are the sons of Abraham, who are referred to now as Jews. I will not trouble you by telling you that some of my best friends are Jews but that is essentially correct. But I have a long history of grass cutting going back to the house in Richmond Heights, Missouri owned by my father. My grass-cutting career started at about the age of six. When I moved into this home in 1949, there were several of my neighbors – all gentiles – cutting their own grass. The sole exception was Bob Lilley, the President of AT&T. Apart from Lilley, the rest of us cut our own grass. But the fact of the matter is that our many Jewish neighbors did not cut their own grass but hired professional landscapers. Whether a man cuts his own grass is not a litmus test as to whether I like him. But in all of the years that I have been grass cutting, ranging from very early days in Missouri, to Kansas to Illinois to New Jersey, to Washington, and in returning to this state, it has generally been true or invariably been true that the grass cutters were gentiles. This did not make the gentiles a superior race. It is simply a fact of life.
The former owner of the house next door was Jewish. In accordance with a long-standing tradition, he did not cut his own grass. And I thought that this was the way that things normally worked. As a matter of fact, I thought nothing of it. But on cogitation, which I am inclined to these days, I concluded that the sons of Abraham, normally called the Jews, are not cutters of grass.
Well, in any case, Mr. Feldman has fired his professional grass cutter and is taking over those responsibilities himself. But I don’t love Mr. Feldman any less or any more because he is now the grass cutter next door. Absolutely aside from the matter is that he is going against every shred of evidence that the sons of Abraham are not to be grass cutters. So you see why I was astonished on that Sunday morning to hear the engine grind next door and find that Feldman was cutting his own grass.
Again, I state that because he cuts his grass on Sunday morning, he forgets the protocol of peacefulness in this neighborhood. It is slightly bothersome to me but I do not of course accuse him of violating the Sabbath. It might be that after four years, if Feldman ever speaks to me, I might give him a few tips on grass cutting. After all, I have had a career going back pretty close to 80 years of grass cutting. But Mr. Feldman has not seen fit to ask my advice and I patiently kept my mouth shut.
Now if you think that there is some bias in my reporting these events which would even hint at anti-Semitic behavior, I would deny that vehemently. I simply would like for the readers of Ezra’s essays to know that at this late date, a Jew is cutting his own grass right next door to me. Far from being discriminatory with respect to Mr. Feldman, I applaud him. I wish he would observe the general rule of peacefulness on Sundays. Then I remind myself that I am a non-believer who never intended to go to church anyhow. So that is my report on the astonishing fact that after all of these years I have found a Jew who cuts his own grass and he lives next door to me. Beyond that, I have fashioned the title of this essay in a Biblical manner by referring to “cutters of grass”as distinguished from “grass mowers.” This would seem to put me in good stead with Christians, Gentiles, Jews, Pagans and perhaps Muslims as well.
Now if Mr. Feldman ever places the house back on the market, for which he is asking nearly $2 million, I will suggest an appendage to the “for sale” sign to replace “I am gorgeous inside.” The new sign would say, “Grass cut by Feldman, the carriage trade grass cutter.” When that happens, I suppose that the offers to buy the house next door will pour in and Mr. Feldman will recover his $2 million. For the time being, I rejoice in the fact that my neighbor, a descendant of Abraham, is cutting his own grass.
E. E. CARR
August 3, 2011
Essay 564
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Kevin’s commentary: Now, the logical leap here that I’m struggling with is between “Jews don’t cut grass” and “Jews are bad at cutting grass.” I don’t see how those two are really related, but I have never seen a Jew attempt to cut grass and since Pop did not comment on the quality of his mowing job, I can assume that it was at least satisfactory. Of course, nowadays even if it was a poor job Pop would have no idea, unless Judy decided to let him know that there were a few errant strands poking out of the lawn.