Written by Perrin Smith, Image courtesy of Niche Productions and PalMar Studios
One of my earliest memories is of sitting in the dirt. I was between long, narrow stalks of corn. My legs were caked in speckled dust. I was 4. The cornstalks, whenever the wind would blow just right, would reveal my grandfather. He was almost 60 then. Tall, lanky. I could see him awkwardly perched on his red lawnmower, a smile on his face.
If I concentrate hard enough, I can still hear the sound of the engine. How it grew louder and louder as he drove closer. I can smell the corn and the musky tilled dirt. But I haven’t thought about any of this in nearly a year.
Right now, my grandfather is dying. He’s alone. At 71, he’s scrunched into a hospital bed 40 miles away only allowed one visitor per day.
He’s about the same age as Chuck Leavell, who, at 68, has been a member of both the Rolling Stones and The Allman Brothers Band. But he’s also known for his tree farm in Macon, Ga., where he works to do his part to save the environment. That’s the subject of this documentary.
It wasn’t until I saw Leavell, clad in a baseball cap and sitting confidently on a lawnmower as he weaves between trees, that I began to vividly remember my own life. My own experiences with an old man proud of what he grew and cared for.
The movie, just like the moments it showcases, is simple. But, that’s what makes it wonderful and evocative. It cuts through Leavell’s life and offers a uniquely personal story.
When I was five, I was watching “SpongeBob SquarePants” with my grandparents. My grandfather sprang up from his chair and launched into song. He dove into the choreography for “Ripped Pants.” He danced, sang and cut up. I giggled along. But this is impossible now.
But while watching this, I realized just how much different life with my grandfather could have been. Leavell, spry yet grandfatherly, dances on stage and launches into song after song. It’s like he’s young. This wild combination of rock star and tree farmer. A strange, wonderful combination.
It’s a testament to the filmmaker, Allen Farst, that a movie about an internationally known musician can have its roots so down to Earth to remind me of scenes from my own childhood so vividly. It’s nuanced and simple enough in its approach to allow for these moments of self-discovery. The story is indirect, told through small actions that add up to a shining tribute to Leavell and his incredible career.
“He’s like the Forrest Gump of rock music,” says one of the interviewees. And, it’s true. But isn’t that what we all want? To be the Forrest Gump of what we do? Remembered as plopped high on a lawnmower, hat on our heads, content with everything we’ve done and will do?
For Leavell, he’s beloved by so many for his heart and personality. His passion for music is secondary. And as my time with my grandfather comes to a close, I’ve realized that he will be beloved for all the off-kilter moments. For the funny dance routines. For the big mustache and even bigger smile. He’ll be remembered, like Leavell, as the old man riding a lawnmower.
