I recognize them immediately, almost daily, those lawnmower riders of the purple sage.
They are the ones who always raise their hands to me in greeting, stopping religiously at all stop signs, only then to proceed with the greatest of caution.
One day, the gentleman, my neighbor of many years, pulled over only to proudly raise the hood to display his new engine: a shy man not quite sure as to how to approach me and present himself. He felt the same exhilaration as I did when I bought my daughter her new car, the same joy and pride felt toward their mounts by those horsemen who are my neighbors.
It was his own type of horse; he discussed intelligently the horsepower, the stroke and bore: all of the specifications that I, a former journeyman military aircraft mechanic, somewhat struggled to follow.
Walt Whitman, a great American, a noted poet worldwide and acclaimed by many as one of the most enlightened minds of our age, offers this advice for us in such situations:
“This is what you shall do: Love the earth and sun and the animals, despise riches, give alms to everyone that asks, stand up for the stupid and crazy, devote your income and labor to others, hate tyrants, argue not concerning God.”
When we meet a handicapped neighbor, the best of us has the opportunity to offer him or her the support necessary to allow our fellow to feel included, rather than outcast from the community. That’s what America is all about.
Ride on, dear neighbors. Ride on!
James A. Mischke
Cortez
