The Leaf Blower at 6 AM

I work nights. I'm a nurse at St. David's. I get home at 2 AM, I'm in bed by 3, and I need to sleep until at least 10.

My neighbor, Gerald, retired two years ago. And he discovered a passion: his yard.

Every Saturday morning at exactly 6:00 AM, Gerald fires up his leaf blower. Not a quiet electric one. A gas-powered, 200-mph, wake-the-dead commercial leaf blower that sounds like a jet engine mating with a chainsaw.

I've asked him to start later. He said, "Early bird gets the worm!" and laughed.

I left a note. He left a note back that said, "City ordinance says 7 AM on weekdays, 8 AM on weekends. I'll compromise at 6." That's not a compromise, Gerald.

I called the city. They sent a warning. Gerald moved his start time to 6:15.

I bought earplugs. I bought a white noise machine. I bought noise-canceling headphones designed for construction workers. I can still hear the leaf blower.

The worst part? His yard is immaculate. There are no leaves. He's blowing dust. He's rearranging air molecules. His driveway is so clean you could perform surgery on it.

Gerald doesn't have a leaf problem. Gerald has a retirement problem. And I have a Gerald problem.

It's been three years. I'm considering moving. Gerald will outlive us all, powered by pure spite and two-stroke fuel.