Ad Code

A word from the inventor of the leaf blower | Leaf Probably

Greetings, my fellow Americans. How are you all today? I said how is everyone today? I’m sorry if we can’t understand each other very well with all the beautiful music echoing from the hills and valleys and the inside of our skulls. It’s the sound of my greatest invention, the leaf blower, and there’s no escaping it. As if you wanted it.

I had many failed inventions before I got to the leaf blower. Most of it related to garden maintenance and involved moving some aspects of the natural world from one area to another – the worm thrower, the lawn thrower, the shrub chopper. My clay lobber used a truck’s engine-driven PTO and almost made it to production, but was shot down by those spoilsports at Shark Tank. “Why do you want to throw dirt all over your garden?” they asked. And: “Why does it make noises in a grain elevator like a motocross race?” Because you can tell by the noise that it’s working, I told them. You didn’t get it. No one caught my genius, but those early failures led to my enlightenment: what if, instead of noisily and mindlessly moving shrubs or worms, we were noisily moving leaves? Bingo and Eureka. But how?

My original prototype, I’m embarrassed to say, was a mechanized version of that outdated and insanely silent device, the rake. This first machine looked like a type of robot raking leaves. It worked very well, computing technology has been pretty much perfected over the last thousand years, but something was missing. I couldn’t make out exactly what. Then one night while watching my favorite TV show about a helicopter, I noticed the rotor wash as Airwolf landed in a field – leaves scattered everywhere. That’s it: wind. Wind would move the leaves. A loud wind so you know it’s working.

So my second prototype was a small helicopter (only 1.50m long rotors) that would fly around your garden and blow the leaves away. But there were some technical issues that I’m not legally allowed to talk about due to ongoing litigation with my former neighbors. Not that I can really explain what went wrong – I’m an inventor, not a helicopter pilot!

The third attempt is the stimulus, they say. But I disagree because my third attempt involved a much larger helicopter. For my fourth attempt, I took inspiration from jet engines in the form of the turbocharger on my 1991 Saab 9000. I simply routed the intake lines so that instead of pressurizing the manifold, they blew air out at an angle under the car. Unfortunately, this caused my car to perform even worse than before and brought neighborly relations to a new low as I excitedly tested my prototype – codenamed ‘Swedish Lawn Zamboni’ – on their property.

But my fifth attempt was a device that is now ubiquitous around the world. I mounted the noisiest 2-stroke engine I could find on an old hiking backpack and then hooked it up to a fan and plastic hose. I called it the Bidirectional Leaf-Obliterating Whirler (BLOW) and it worked better than anyone could have imagined. Simply start the 750cc engine, lift the lightweight (112 pounds) machine onto your back, step on the gas pedal and watch the magic happen. Leaves that were over here are now over there! It’s like an extremely messy rake, but so much better and louder. In my first garden test, it took a human with a rake 8 minutes to get all the available leaves into a central pile suitable for bagging and removal. Meanwhile, after only 20 minutes of full throttle, my BLOW device was spreading the leaves evenly in small clusters of two or three all over the garden. I knew then that I was going to be rich.

Today, my invention can be seen and heard 365 days a year across the country. You’d think it would only be useful in the fall when the leaves are falling, but the world has realized that the humble leaf blower can do more than blow leaves. It can blow gravel off the road and create majestic clouds of dust. It can blow acorns back and forth. It can blow pollen and stray bits of mulch. pine needles! They need to be constantly whipped to different places. And whoops, leaf blower followers often playfully blow all sorts of things onto each other’s property and right back the next day. Sometimes the leaf blower has to be used twice a day when the morning’s work is spoiled by a rare meteorological phenomenon called “wind”.

Over the years I’ve refined my invention, adding power and increasing jet speeds to the point where some models can actually be used as jetpacks. I’ve created electric models that somehow still manage to stay as noisy as the flight deck of the USS Nimitz. I still haven’t solved the problem of random leaves somehow managing to stay in place despite a 130 mph air vortex aimed at them from 1 inch away, but my R&D department is working on it. We breed new types of trees with smoother leaves that are more blowable. It sure is an exciting time in business.

Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I hadn’t invented the leaf blower. Would leaves just lie on the ground and decompose into nutrient-rich soil to the sound of birdsong and the occasional soft patter of a passing rainstorm? I hate thinking about it. The perfect landscape is a landscape dominated by the happy sound of high-revving little engines with busted mufflers napalming the ground with air in search of the perfect bladeless aesthetic.

The beauty of it is, perfection is unattainable. The leaves keep coming back. So you must keep blowing these leaves. Rrrrrrr, Rrrrrrrr, RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAA! That’s the sound of civilization, or at least what I get from my severe tinnitus.

Must go! I just saw a leaf half a block down the street. And not the Nissan kind. If you ask me, things are way too quiet.

This content is created and maintained by a third party and imported to this page to help users provide their email addresses. You may find more information about this and similar content on

Post a Comment


Close Menu