Two Idiots and a Chain saw

Returning to Los Angeles after ten days in Yosemite, a good friend and I decided to "go west". In this case it was slightly north, but, for the two of us, it was a world away from civilization. Two weeks later and high in the Sierras, we were in man country. Despite the insistence of two bewildered women who wanted us to have our heads examined, we settled in to settling down. Keep in mind, that in order to live and be accepted in man country, you are expected to do the things, which the men who came before you did. At the very least, you had better look like you belong because in man country, men have by-passed the process of evolution. They may not crawl on all fours, but, they will eat anything that does.

Fearful of being eaten by anyone, we bought plaid shirts and jeans with no name. We wore suspenders that didn't do anything and big belt buckles that did even less. We bought steal toed, all leather, testosterone impregnated, kick your ass boots. We grew beards. Not the little manicured beards, or, a night at the opera kind of beard. We grew man beards. The kind that froze in the winter and and melted in Spring. Beards that could survive in the wilderness on their own. Of course, we also needed man tools like a chain saw. In man country you need a chain saw so that you can slay the trees that you will burn in the great fireplaces made of timber and stone. Then you can have your women on the great bear skins spread before great fires authenticating your oozing manhood.

Well, we left early one morning and headed for the big trees. With "man saw" in hand we confronted the shivering wild to bag a tree that would authenticate our manhood. We had borrowed a 1948, two ton, flatbed dodge with side rails from the only friend we had, in order to bring the wood home. After meandering, aimlessly, on forgotten logging roads for hours, we met our tree. The biggest damn tree either one of us had ever seen. It was as wide as the Grand Canyon and to appreciate its height, we had to lay on our backs to see where it met the sky. This was a tree worthy of an assault by men, who until now, had never seen wood bigger than a 2 x 4.

The saw roared, the teeth spun and we began to separate the tree from the wilderness. About half way through the girth, however, the big tree leaned forward, binding the saw between the top and the bottom of the cut. The "man saw" now belonged to the tree. We drove iron wedges into the cut to free the bar, but the big tree would not give them back. After considerable discussion and no head way, we retreated to the bed of the truck. We sat there and stared, hopelessly, at the tree which had confiscated our man saw and the wedges made of iron.

If you stare at something long enough, your going to get an idea, even a stupid one and we were about move out of the apprenticeship program and earn our masters. A masters in stupid isn't all that hard to acquire if you have the right genes. " Why don't we tie this end of the rope to the bumper and I'll shimmy up the tree and tie the other end around that rascals throat and we'll pull it back just enough to free the saw ? " I suggested. Doing stupid things is part of growing up, but, this one was going to delay that hope for a long time.

The rope was fixed and the truck inched forward and the tree came tumbling down. If you've never seen a truck, try to out run the tree to which its tied, it can't be done. When the dust had settled, the top of the tree was impregnated, into the cab of the borrowed truck! The center of the cab was creased , so that the passenger side and the driver side was modified by a permanent partition negating any possibility for discussion between driver and passenger. As a matter of fact, you could drive cross country and never see each other. The modifications, imposed by the big tree upon our manhood, put an end to any dreams we had concerning anything on great bear skins.

We confronted the wild, together, for another twelve years, but our assaults on the great outdoors were usually repelled with similar consequences. Our endeavor to master the outdoors gave way to simply appreciating it for what it was; Wild, beautiful and unafraid of two idiots with a chain saw.

The rustic cabin in the wild has given way to a split level in suburbia, complete with a non wood burning gas fireplace. As for having our women on bear skin rugs? Well, our man cave is decorated in soft, yellow, flowered prints with matching spread and twenty seven frilly pillows. The great fireplace built from stone and timber? Surplanted by the flicker of little aromatic candles. And what of the great saw? We each have an electric carving knife and twice a year we are allowed to slay the turkey.