There's a movement in many cities across this great land to ban ...
Oh, right, it's the weekend, and someone's probably doing yard work, so I'll have to speak up. THERE'S A MOVEMENT TO BAN LEAF BLOWERS.
Personally, I hate the things, and I think about that every time I use mine. The feeling passes. Perhaps you have one, and know the feeling: You turn it off, because you finished with a particular area, and you hear someone else using one, and think, man, I hate those things.
It's human nature at its most honest. I have a good reason for using it — look at all this detritus on the driveway! Seeds! Leaves! Sticks! Bug husks! But that other guy who's just going on and on, what's he doing? Blow drying the lawn? Inflating a hot-air balloon?
What if it's not a leaf blower, but a flock of birds with a gift of mimicry who've learned to make the sound because they associate it with the appearance of tasty dislodged insects? That's all we need: crows along every electrical line, cawing the sound of a leaf blower.
Why do we hate leaf blowers and not snowblowers? It's the pitch. A snowblower starts with a throaty rumble and modulates to a curmudgeonly mutter. Leaf blowers whine like overgrown adolescent mosquitoes complaining that you won't give them the car keys.
There's also the matter of low-frequency sounds, which apparently cause distress and unease, but to be honest I don't know if I can hear them over the high-frequency sounds.
The main reason people want to ban the Devil's Orators? Pollution. The gas-powered blower, used for an hour, emits the equivalent amount of atmospheric crud — to use the technical term — as a pickup truck driving 1,000 miles.