Peter Chianca
Father At Large

Helping Dad mow old gracefully

As a columnist who’s both male and a father, I get a lot of e-mails early in the summer from people trying to publicize their fatherly items and services, which, unlike the e-mails I get around Mother’s Day, almost never involve spas. (Why doesn’t anybody think Dad might like a good seaweed wrap?) They tend to feature things like mowing and grilling, which American men are required to master before they’re allowed to procreate. That’s in the Constitution somewhere.

For instance, I recently got a press release from the American Academy of Orthopaedic Surgeons, who are apparently trying to cut down on their workload by preventing lawn-mowing accidents. The surgeons have some fine tips, including:

· “Before mowing, conduct a simple walk-through of the yard to look for any debris.” Of course, this can be difficult when the grass has inexplicably grown to knee-level since the last time you mowed it. A better plan might just be to mow at night, so nobody sees it when dog toys, baseballs or squirrels come blasting out of your mower and lodge themselves in your neighbor’s siding.

· “Wear proper gear when mowing, including protective boots and safety glasses.” Apparently this would preclude mowing the lawn in between burgers, wearing nothing but your bathing suit. (Not me. Other people.)

· “Mowers are not transportation vehicles.” Although this could be a problem if you need to use one in a pinch to get to the liquor store.

I also got an impressive package of information from the Kingsford company, which, after 80-plus years in the charcoal briquet business, has determined that the briquets do a better job if you put little grooves in them. When I think of all the briquet scientists who must have died before seeing this breakthrough come to pass, I could cry.

The new briquets apparently boast a 38 percent improvement in lighting time, although in my experience it’s difficult to calculate 38 percent of “never.” I just hope this doesn’t mean the end of lighter fluid, because that would deny thousands of men the opportunity to generate leaping spires of flame in their own back yards, which frankly is all that keeps us going some days.

Incidentally, a good briquet is apparently important because, as Kingsford quotes cooking expert Diane Morgan as saying, “The unmistakable taste of food grilled over charcoal is what makes real barbecue.” As opposed to food cooked on a gas grill, which tends to taste like a cross between carcinogens and a Volvo. At least when I do it.

But the best pre-Father’s Day missives I got revolved around the concept that Dad isn’t pulling his weight around the house, like one from “Mr. Handyman of South Essex County,” which is a title I’m hoping against hope doesn’t involve a sash. Mr. Handyman offers advice such as, “Gutters and rain spouts should be checked for any debris that could impede the flow of water off the roof.” I hate Mr. Handyman.

OK, maybe that’s a little strong. When you come down to it, I don’t really resent the insinuation that I should be spending more time cleaning out gutters, or mowing, or char-broiling meat. In fact, I’d go so far as to say that now that Father’s Day is over, I’m happy to devote myself to any and all such activities that my family might ask me to do.

That’s if they recognize me under all the seaweed.

Peter Chianca is a CNC managing editor; visit his blog at chianca-at-large.blogspot.com. To receive At Large by e-mail, write to info@chianca-at-large.com, with the subject line “SUBSCRIBE.”