There's a small patch of lawn out in the middle of a corn field near here. A small shed sits on the lawn. There used to be an apple tree, but it blew over several years ago. There are no other buildings or trees on the lawn.

A very thin, very tan older gentleman takes care of the lawn. He uses a push mower and keeps the lawn short.

He wears a Speedo….a black Speedo.

Whenever I see him, I call my friend to tell her Speedo Man is out.  If she happens to be out and about and sees him, she returns the favor. We are alternately amazed and appalled. We are oddly facinated by his ritual, dedication and of course his wardrobe. We speculate about how often he has to replace the Speedo and whether or not it will stay put on that tiny hiny.

Today was a rainy cold day in Iowa. I didn't expect to see Speedo Man out mowing his patch of lawn. However, I also didn't expect to see what I did.

Speedo Man's garage was gone. The footings were removed and the grass is plowed. There will be no need for mowing next year.

I will miss you Speedo Man.

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