
This lawnmower is old.
I mean old.
My daddy bought this John Deere LA145 so many years ago I can't even remember when he got the damn thing.
But yesterday?
That old son of a bitch was still cutting grass.
And I ain't talking about some pretty little suburb lawn where the grass gets trimmed every Saturday before breakfast. I'm talking about high grass. The kind that'll make a lawnmower reconsider.
That old Deere went right through it.
Rusty. Worn. Beat up.
Still cutting.
And sitting there riding that thing got me thinking about how many yards this mower has seen. How many summers. How many hot afternoons. How many times somebody climbed on it, turned that key, dropped them blades, and said:
All right. Let's get this shit done.
Old Don't Mean Finished
Everything wears out.
That's just life.
People wear out. Trucks wear out. Guitars wear out. Lawn tractors damn sure wear out.
But worn ain't the same thing as finished.
You take care of something, it'll surprise you how long it'll stay around.
Every year or two, put some blades on it. Change a belt when it needs one. Tune it up. Change the oil. Fix whatever starts rattling.
Then turn the key and get back after it.
That's pretty much been the philosophy with this LA145.
I'll ride it as long as it'll ride.
And so far, we're still riding.

Everybody Wants a Zero-Turn Now
Now, I know.
Everybody's got these new zero-turn mowers.
Big engines. Fancy seats. Two handles. Turn around quicker than a preacher when somebody says there's fried chicken .
Maybe they're faster.
Probably are.
Maybe they're more fun.
Hell, I don't know.
But I tell you what—this old tractor mower ain't boring.
And when there's work to do, fun ain't really the first question.
The question is:
Will the damn thing cut the grass?
This one will.
That's what I respect about old equipment.
It ain't trying to impress you.
It ain't got to be the newest thing sitting in the shed.
It just has to work.

The $7,000 Question
Now we get down to the part that'll make your wallet start singing the blues.
You can spend five, six, maybe seven thousand dollars on a shiny new mower.
And maybe it's wonderful.
But sooner or later, something on that new machine is gonna break too.
Everything mechanical eventually needs something.
So if you're asking me whether I'd rather keep putting a few blades, belts, parts, and a little sweat into this old LA145—or hand somebody thousands of dollars because my mower ain't fashion?
Man, fire up that Deere.
I'll keep this one going as long as I can.
Because there's something satisfying about machinery that's already paid its dues.
Every scratch has a story.
Every rusty spot has seen some weather.
Every time that engine fires, it's reminding you of something we forget in this throwaway world:
New ain't always better.
Sometimes old just needs somebody stubborn enough to keep it going.
Daddy bought this mower.
Years passed.
Grass kept growing.
That John Deere kept cutting.
And yesterday, there I was.
Still riding.
Still cutting.
Still turning.
Maybe that's the whole lesson.
Take care of what takes care of you.
So tell me—what old mower, truck, tractor, guitar, or piece of equipment are you still hanging onto because the damn thing refuses to quit?