Thank Goodness For The Jam Session With My Lawn Guy -- Life Is Short

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There we were, Jacob and I, he with the chainsaw, me with the wheelbarrow, listening to the tunes flying from my waterproof speaker, nodding our heads in sync.

Welcome to Steph’s Landscapin’ Jam Session.

I’d asked Jacob (not his real name) if he would come by when he had extra time to cut down a few small trees and haul off a long-building stash of fallen branches and logs piled around the wooded section of my yard. He and his workers take care of a small list of yards here in my neighborhood, and we’re happy to have them. Jacob is a friendly, diligent worker, and I love to make him laugh. He’s from South America, speaks fluent English, and cares quite a bit about the quality of his lawn service.

I tell him I’m his adopted older sister, or more likely, after I asked his age recently, his adopted aunt. I’m getting old. What can I say? So are you. Day by day.

When I saw him arrive through my window, I put on my sneakers and went outside to greet him. Normally he has his brother and another man with him, but that day he was flying solo. We decided he’d take care of the trees, and I’d go around the yard and collect the branches that he’d then drop off at a nearby mulch-making company.

Together but in different areas of my yard, we began our work, meeting up sometimes at his big truck with our collections as we loaded them into the back. We chatted here and there and made jokes. He asked questions about the work I wanted done; I considered the answer. I could have stayed inside my house and paid him to do all of the work, but one, it would have taken him much longer, and two, it would have cost me more. But above all, three, I like the exercise and the outdoors.

And, as I discovered that day, I like to have a jam session with my lawn guy. The thought occurred to me that Jacob might like a little music as we worked. We were converging on the same section of yard, in our last bit of wood collection, so I brought out my waterproof speaker and cell phone and asked him what kind of music he liked to listen to. He was confused.

“Music?”

“Yeah, like what’s your favorite group or kind of music?”

He thought for a second, slightly unsure of what was going on. He shrugged.

“I like everything, but not that hard-edge rock stuff.” Then he grunted as he imitated grinding it out on the guitar.

“Oh, same for me,” I said. “I like everything except that. So, do you like pop? Rock?”

“Yeah, pop, I guess.”

Pop music it was. I turned to one of my Spotify playlists with a fair amount and cranked up the speaker. Steph’s jam session commenced. Music is one of the main reasons I like to do yard work. You turn on the tunes, add a little sun or cloud, get a rake or pruners, slip your hands into yard gloves, and you’re looking good, my friend. It doesn’t get better than that.

The jam session in my yard that day wasn’t the kind of jam I’d normally have with myself. In those sessions, I’m known to dance with arms and hands flying while doing any of a number of things — walking, dishes, weeding, you name it. The jam session in my yard with Jacob was more reserved. He was walking back and forth between the tree he’d just cut down and his truck. I was moving branches in the wheelbarrow.

It was when we reconvened in that spot in the yard that Jacob would comment on a song that had just played, or we’d subtly nod our heads to the beat. It was a way for us to share something other than the business-like exchanges we normally have together. I’d never spent time working in the yard while Jacob was there working, too.

Here was someone from a different walk of life, a different generation, and we were having a special moment of connection through a shared activity and a little music to lighten the scene. I felt not only productive as part of a two-person team, but light-hearted that we were in sync, outside on a relatively cool day that was as amenable as you could get after this steamy summer.

You don’t have to know someone well or for long to be friends-in-the-moment as you work toward a similar goal. I find this when I do volunteer work. I don’t necessarily know the people with whom I volunteer, but we’re instantaneous friends because of a shared mission. It gets even better if we have a fun environment, with music if we’re lucky. I can’t recall volunteer stints where there was music, but I imagine there had to have been one or two over these decades.

Jacob eventually wound down his work in my yard, having filled his big landscaping truck with sawed-up trees and a giant mishmash of branches. The load was off to its new life as mulch. I’d already taken a shower and eaten a snack. He’d taken a break to eat, too, and I walked by his truck as I saw him put grapes in his mouth.

I thought about how hard he works all through the week, so much physical labor with so much care and dedication. He deserved as many grapes as can grow on a vine. I always ask if he or his workers need extra water. I buy packs of water bottles at the grocery store just to have on hand for these guys. I care about them.

I don’t know if our jam session mattered to Jacob, but we joked at the end of the day that I was now his employee, and he owed me a paycheck.

It’s these little interactions that make up a meaningful part of the foundation of our well-being. They sure make a day feel happier, and the world safer, and life a gift. That’s whether you play pop music, rock, or that guitar grind stuff.

Jam on, my friends. Jam on.

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Have a nice rest of your week, everyone.