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My friends, gather round and I’ll tell you s tale, a tale of
a man who gets himself in too deep, but who also finds redemption with the help
of a chainsaw. If you’re thinking “That sounds like the way Alexander Aja would
pitch his next movie,” you’re absolutely correct. Alex Aja’s “Chainsaw Capers”
will be released next month from Cheese List Productions, Inc.
But it’s
also the story of what the hell I’ve been doing with myself for the last three
weeks. I mean, there was a wedding, a trip to upstate New York, a zombie party,
and some other life events thrown in there, but for all intents and purposes,
it was mostly the thing about redemption.
It
started like all redemption stories do, with a tree.
This
one didn’t give wishes or tickets to concert events or sporting events. It didn’t
really do anything except be mostly dead and drop weird fruit in the backyard. So
one day, with the help of my girlfriend’s father, we cut it down with a
chainsaw.
It was
a yet another glorious example of man asserting his dominance over nature with
the help of tools powered by the stuff nature leaves behind. The tree came
down, was sliced into pieces and was gradually passed on to the local trash
company over the period of several weeks. And so ends the story.
Wait
no, there’s more. There’s a stump. Like many trees, this one required a way to
be affixed to the ground and to draw in nutrients. In our haste to remove the
tree, somehow the stump got left behind.
After a
good solid year of having to mow the lawn around the unsightly tree anchor, I said
to myself “Someone should do something about that.” Unfortunately, that someone turned out to have
to be me.
About
three weeks ago, I wandered outside ready to do battle with the stump. At my
disposal, I had the following:
A shovel
A
circular saw, and most importantly of all
The
unadulterated, near-mythological strength of a 140-pound writer and cat aficionado.
Needless
to say, it seemed like the former tree anchor stood zero chances. But
shockingly, the stump put up a hell of a fight. Apparently it didn’t want to
vacate the ground. Also apparently, it takes more than a shovel and the
strength of a lanky 27-year-old to get a stump out of the ground. I won’t even
mention the circular saw, which was zero help and complained literally the entire
time that it was not the right tool for the job.
The
weekend ended and the stump remained. I’d uncovered most of the roots, but I’d
also broken part of the blade off my shovel when I attempted to use the shovel to
pry up the stump.
The
following weekend I retired the circular saw and added a reciprocating saw to
my arsenal. Despite the pleasant-sounding name, this was also little to no
help. The stump remained frustratingly attached to god’s green earth.
After
my embarrassing defeat during week two, I decided a new approach was needed. If
earth was what the stump wanted so badly, then earth I would give it. All the
earth it could stand and then more. Rather than trying to remove the stump, I would
just cut enough off the top that I could bury it in the ground and pretend that
trees were just scary stories adults used to make kids brush their teeth.
But
removing the top part of the stump would not be an easy task. The circular saw
had already proven itself to be of no help during this project. The same with
the reciprocating saw. The only thing left was to get out the big guns: the
chainsaw. The very same chainsaw that was used to remove the stump from its
tree roughly one year earlier.
It was
the rematch everyone was waiting for, only the person operating the chainsaw
for round two was in no way capable or qualified to do so. After all, I’d only
used the chainsaw once before and it was under adult supervision. The only
reason it was still in my possession a year later is due to space issues at its
owner’s house.
I guess
I could have called and asked for help, but the owner is a busy man and
besides, this fight had become personal. It had all the makings of a day of
yard work that would surely end with a trip to the emergency room and a stump
needing to have people-blood hosed off of it.
The
first day was a rousing success in that it ended with me still having all of my
limbs attached to their usual spots. It was a rousing failure because so did
the stump. After sitting for a year, the chainsaw required fuel. So lame.
I
returned the second day with fuel and the stump and I battled ferociously. I wielded
the chainsaw like a toddler wields a AK-47: with deft control and total, inbred
know-how. The stump was a worthy adversary. It launched pieces of itself at my
face to try to dissuade my attack, but my stylish and safe $10 sunglasses
repelled the massive blocks of wood with ease.
When
the day had ended, the stump was in two places: my garbage can and buried six
feet underground. Actually, way less than six feet because that would have
required way more digging than I was prepared to do.
To
anyone preparing a similar project of their own, I have these recommendations:
1)
Make sure you have the proper tools. If I had
any idea what I was getting myself into and was in any way prepared, it would
have taken my one day to complete this project. Two at the very most. Go to a
hardware store, find the biggest saw you can and then ask an associate to point
you in the direction of a larger one. If they say no such thing exists, invent
one.
2)
Don’t do it. It’s way easier to mow around a
stump for the rest of your life than it is to remove it or hide it. Let it be.
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