"Taco Tech"

My older brother had a knack for being a "Cold  Practical Jokester" when we were younger. This is the primary difference between us; my desire then, as it is now, was to provide a comedy relief of sorts. My brother's was to hurt you and by you I mean me, by either leading an entire group of kids to our front yard to fight me ( for "talking shit about mom" he'd tell me) or in this case convincing me to get into a huge tractor tire and then letting him roll the huge tractor tire off a small mountain with me inside would be his twisted idea of fun. If you can imagine a half dollar rolling off a high surface in your house equivalent to a small mountain, lets say the kitchen table, and the said half dollar (JFK screaming his ass off) lands on the floor, coin edge down, with the momentum of oh, about five miles an hour with my brother running along beside (laughing his ass off), JFK desperately trying to escape only to be sucked back in.The coin rolls just fast enough to keep it going until it finally reaches the back hall bathroom (JFK screaming his ass off), where it finally slows down and then begins its wobble (JFK screaming his ass off) slow at first then faster and tighter (JFK screaming his ass off) before finally laying still next to the toilet resting on the floor with JFK's arms and legs tangled. When I finally came to and started my bitter painful cry, nothing came out due to my nostrils and mouth being clogged with tire mud loosened by the inertia.I walked to where my parents were and I remember my father smacking and yelling at me. I found out later it was because my Sunday clothes were covered with tire mud, snot and my own blood. I really could not hear him at that moment due to the tire mud that was packed in my ears, from the effects of the wobble (and me screaming my ass off).

You know who is really learning the landscape industry? The Mexicans. They are willing to deal with the tire mud and low brow abuse to pay the bills. Once on this path the inertia is unstoppable and yet they keep on working to the end. I was watching "The Dirt King" the other night and as I was watching this guy from Brooklyn, New York, explain his genius for placing plants, I couldn't help notice the oompa loompa like laborers milling around in the background and doing all the work. I thought, "Hey! That looks like Jose." The Mexican workers that exist in our part of Arizona have been the unfavorably spoken of backbone of the industry. Like it or not they are quickly becoming the majority of licensed landscape business owners. The days of Mexican laborers though are fleeting due to economics. Eight years ago mostly Mexicans were available and willing to push a mower. Slowly I started seeing more Americans  (white males) getting hired and then promoted after a week of work. They are then immediately issued two Mexicans and a white truck. When the American would finally find a nice cushy job renting U-Hauls, he would stop showing up leaving the two Mexicans to finish the work and the white truck parked until the next American showed up. American workers are now filling the ranks of the laborers. Anyways, after two years working outdoors who can till the difference unless you speak to them.

Snowbird: Excuse me, senor. Can you tell me how to get to Mexicali?

"Excuse us, senor"

Landscape laborer: Mexi- where?

Snowbird: Oh excuse me, I thought you were a. .. you must be the boss?

It can be difficult, if you can imagine, for a person of any color or nationality to endure the often wincing humor of let's say, a white manager who refers to the Mexican water tech as the "Resident Taco Tech". This same tech helped two corporate know-it-all's out of a jam while they were attempting to demonstrate their  "State-of-the-Art Intelligent technology super-advanced method of turning the water on" irrigation controller. Our "Taco Tech" knew more about the damn controller than the high paid technicians. I guess what I'm trying to share is this: It is very difficult at times to be in an industry that has a certain unquestionable amount of bigotry, most of which is due to the offending person's lack of ability to say something amusing or funny without being overly offensive. In other words, it's easy to kick somebody when they need to make their rent. It's just something to think about for tomorrow, the start of week two of 12 weeks of hot and miserable weather. The Serial Landscaper.

"Apples to Oranges"

My thoughts about religion. When I was in the fifth grade I came up with what I considered at the time to be a really great joke.  If I unzipped my pant zipper, reached my hand down into my pants and poked my thumb through, it would appear to the average student that it was my pecker. Funny, right? Well, my joke failed to reach what I had thought would be an epic level of comedy. I think I realized rather quickly, that maybe, performing this feat in front of the girls restroom during lunch break was a bad choice of venue. I tried in vain to compose myself, and BAM, I found myself being dragged into the principal's office by both lunch monitors in front of a large crowd of onlookers who were curious about the kid being hauled away with his hand in his pants.While sitting in the office waiting room, I decided to pray, "Please Mr. Jesus, get me outta this and I'll rewrite this horrible joke and or maybe never do it again." Well Jesus answered right away because my dad walked through the door right at that moment and looked right at me sitting there. "Hey dad! How' bout them Yankees?" SMACK! I figured right there this Jesus fellow had no sense of humor or he would have realized it was really my thumb. My point is this; just because a guy has a truck, trailer and a couple of mowers, doesn't make him a landscaper. Yet that is what Joe customer thinks, so when he calls us for a landscaping estimate and then calls a "Fly-by-Nighter", he is comparing apples to oranges. He, in his mind, sees us as the same. Man is he wrong! Good luck Joe customer! Call a real landscaper when you are serious about your landscape investment you idiot! In closing on this day Thursday, June 16, 2011, day before payday. Gophers 0, P.R Group 1 Good job guys. The Serial Landscaper

" Customer's are not always right."

Some people feel entitled to have things just because they have always gotten what they wanted, either by stealing, fraud or even worse.. a rich father.My father never gave me the time of day unless it had either a sport related score or stat attached to it. Once when he caught me in my bedroom when I was fourteen years old, jamming out to the sounds of my newly purchased "Black Sabbath Vol. Four" album (we had vinyl back then and I had bought it with my own car washing money) at full volume it scared him. He packed me and my little brother up in the truck, grabbed the baseball equipment and slammed grounders at me for three hours. Finally, my older brother showed up on his bike, winded from the two mile ride, and informed  my dad that dinner was still on the table from when mom had sent him to grab me for dinner. I guess my point is that just because you have a phone and we provide landscape services does not entitle you to call our offices and complain about the service my guys provide by mixing in lies about the fountain not working and that there are dead plants every where.

Phone rings: female voice on answering end, " Landscaping,"

Jerk:  I'VE GOT DEAD PLANTS EVERY WHERE AND MY GRANDSON IS CHOKING ON A OLEANDER FLOWER!

Landscape Secretary: OH MY GOD!!!I'M SENDING EVERYONE!!!

That is what I hate about some peoples idea of how to use a phone, and it pisses me off.

Good night Arizona it;'s gonna be cooler tomorrow only 108, work safe the Serial Landscaper

In the beginning.....

It was hot today and it was just the beginning of summer. The company I work for (which shall remain anonymous for the time being) has been sending their crews to "Heat Related Sickness" classes. I'm a maintenance supervisor for a small landscaping company in the state of Arizona and I have been with this particular company for about five years. I've been in the landscape business for a total of eight years and have hated it. Unfortunately, this is where I have ended up in life, mostly as a direct result of stupid life choices. I have many resentments about why I ended up here in this town and in this industry but at the same time I have come to view myself as a survivor of sorts. I see myself at times as a wise guru of useless information and hard luck, therefore I have earned the right to talk too much and tell others what to accomplish in what is an eight hour day of mixed fuel lawn mowers and fertilizer. This is my attempt to share the inane events that haunt my dreams and and seem to never end for me or the hard-working people that toil with me in this industry.  This is the serial landscaper closing on this day June 14, 2011, day before rent is due looking at a forecast for tomorrow of 109. Later!