It’s hard to start writing a column about my chainsaw. But not as difficult as it is to start my chainsaw — considering I was born and raised in New York City and never saw such a device until I was old enough to get into an R-rated movie.
When I moved to Indy, I bought my first chainsaw and found it to be a very inefficient tool. I took it back to the dealer and I told him it took me hours to cut down one little limb. “Let me give it a try,” said the clerk, and then he pulled the cord.
“Geez, what’s that loud noise?” I asked him.
“Look, Mr. Wolfsie, I once saw you walk into a plate glass window on your morning TV segment. You are not the kind of person who should mess with power tools.”
I’m actually very good with power tools. I have never once had a problem starting my lawn mower. I did have one accident, though. I almost broke my nose when I tripped over the extension cord.
The chainsaw had been untouched in my garage for about 25 years, but that’s also true of Step 4 of my Scott’s lawn fertilizer because by the end of fall, I really don’t care what my lawn looks like. I also have two leaf blowers — one to blow the leaves and one to suck up the leaves. Both tools can perform either of those tasks with a minor mechanical adjustment, but that involves reading an entire page of the owner’s manual. Like I would understand any of that.
During the Midwest’s most recent storms, we were sitting in the living room and heard a crash. A fairly good-sized tree had blown down and grazed the side of the house. My wife heard the noise and immediately panicked. “Relax,” I told her. “We’re OK.”