I laced up my new steel-toe boots and went down to the garage to put on the rest of my new chainsaw safety gear: Kevlar gloves, a hat/faceplate/earphone combo, and Kevlar assless chaps.
Yes, you read that correctly. I own assless chaps and they are badass.
So I got all geared up and I went outside to fire up my new chainsaw, to finally make a man out of me.
The plan was to massacre the saplings all around the playground area, and then go to town on a downed tree in the woods. Testosterone roared through my veins.
My 4 year old son watched from the window.
“What are you doing, Daddy?”
“I’m starting up my new chainsaw, son. I’m going to clean up the woods a little bit. It’s very dangerous and only for grown-ups.” Badass grown-ups like your Dad.
“Woah. Cool.”
I flipped the choke switch, I primed the engine, and I pulled on the cord. A few times. A few more. To no avail. I tried again. I pulled and pulled and nothing happened.
“Daddy, what are you doing?”
“I’m trying to start my new chainsaw.”
“Why is it taking so long, Daddy?”
“I don’t know, buddy, it’s a little bit tricky.”
With each pull on the cord, I got hotter and hotter. Those assless chaps, wool socks, steel toed boots, kevlar gloves and hard hat with noise cancelling headphones – they are murder on a warm spring day. I was sweating.
A neighbor walked up, a friendly retired guy.
“Hi Chris, how are you? What are you up to there?”
What does it look like?
I swallowed my pride and lowered my voice: “Do you know much about chainsaws, Walt? I’m having a little trouble here.”
“Not really.”
Then get off my property.
From the window again: “Daddy, what are you doing?”
The world closed in. I was 16 again, trying to parallel park while 2 cars waited and watched, patiently at first, then increasingly irate, as I failed and failed and failed again.
The neighbor saw my frustration boiling under the surface, understood what was happening, and politely took his leave. The wife came over. “Do you want to watch a YouTube video on how to start a chainsaw?” She handed me her phone.
What is it that women don’t understand? I want to fire up my chainsaw like a man. I don’t want help. I don’t want my son seeing that his Dad doesn’t know how to start a chainsaw. And I don’t want him seeing you have to help me.
But shit, that is a good idea.
I swallowed again. “Sure.”
I had already tried everything in the video. It was a lost cause. Most likely the engine was flooded.
Fail. Not a good start to my manhood trial.
