mowing the lawn

The quintessential American suburban white noise of lawnmowers has returned to the sound scape in my neighborhood. And this year I am joining the ranks of homeowners in the weekly summertime ritual of mowing, edging, blowing and general lawn tending. Rather than paying someone else to do the work I am stepping into the breach. I don't own a lawn mower, nor a weed whacker, although my wife did buy a leaf blower a couple years back.
So where to buy the requisite equipment? The major home improvement chain stores have entire mile-long isles of gleaming lawn mowers. Judging by the sticker prices these behemoths should not only mow my lawn effortlessly but BBQ my hamburger at the same time while keeping my beer cold all the while. I think I'll go the used route at the thrift store. My lawn is small and I don't think it warrants a second mortgage.
I'm thinking a nice little electric job would be just the ticket. Al Gore will be proud of me. No doubt he'll nominate me for some kind of statuesque award... I can picture it in my mind's eye. Walking down the red carpet pushing my gently humming lawn mower in my jet black tux. Have to go with the bow tie, keep it understated, none of this wild color stuff for me. Maybe a subtle pinstripe of black velvet. My beautiful wife on my arm in a flowing cream, backless gown, a string of pearls around her neck. Yes, I can see it now.
"Excuse me sir, do you sell used extension cords, really long ones?"<