Fruitless effort
The classics are full of heroic gestures. Fruitless efforts, but part of the character of anyone who would be remembered forever. King Canute ordering the waves to cease. Don Quixote (Kee-ho-tay, not Quicks-ott) tilting at windmills. Sisyphus rolling rocks uphill. And my personal favourite; the man with the leafblower. A warrior against countless enemies.
For several days now, on the main street in a town near here, we’ve waited for the bus while a man with an electric leafblower tries to clear the area in front of an upscale restaurant. The performance deserves that someone bring a movie camera and then dedicate a place of honour on YouTube. Back and forth in the gutters. Up and down a short stretch of sidewalk. Out in the middle of traffic that is stopped for the traffic lights. Or not. Dodging cyclists and delivery vans with aplomb, he pushes the recalcitrant detritus into piles that are then attacked by his adversary, the winds that blow. For this is October, and a fine month for kites and flags it is. For the man with the leafblower, less.
It’s not polite to laugh, but he can’t hear us. We can’t hear us. The silly noisemaker that he carries with its umbilical may not be an equal for the winds, but it does mask the sound of traffic. A mixed blessing. And he does dance with a form and fluidity that make up for his ineffectiveness. Yes, I should borrow a movie camera before the snow falls. Of course, he’ll probably have some sort of electric snowshovel when that time comes.
