The more news I hear, and the more days I live, the more convinced I am that our politicians are lazy. I've said before, I'm pretty liberal. However, I also have common sense and believe in incremental change. I thought Obama would be more liberal, but I don't blame him for going middle of the road. It was the only road he could take. I do blame him for not admitting that. I also blame him for not calling the Tea Party out for what they are; irresponsible, and ill informed. Experts agree, listen to them! Cut spending, raise taxes, end of story. Sure I don't want to lose my mortgage interest deduction, but if it's the cost of doing business, so be it. Tax the rich, hell yeah! They've been untaxed for a decade and I don't feel any busier at work. And yes, they are my clients. Directly!
I wrote my congressman, and he wrote back. Problem is, it's pretty clear he didn't read my email. I'd have thought he had better staff than that.
My only hope is that the republicans nominate some reactionary nut job, Obama has a free term to accept reality, and we move forward. Knowing our collective luck, some middle of the road Republican will win the election and spend 4 years trying to win reelection. Maybe all presidents should be limited to one term. Give 'em six years.
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Labor Pains
No, I'm not about to make a comparison between the suffering of the worker and the suffering of the mother.
I really enjoy reading, and re-reading Matthew Crawford's Shopclass as Soulcraft. However, like most writing regaling the virtues of the common worker, or the romance of the farmer working the land. It is written by as man who is primarily a Philosophy Fellow at a Universty, or a writer with a home farm etc. The points they make are valid, provocative, and interesting. However there are a couple of key things missing.
First, the gentleman farmer, cabinet maker, or motorcycle, or auto repair shop owner is not only a tradesman, but a businessman. Someone with sensibilities that far surpass the turning of soil or wrenches. Someone, who could probably, from that position explain a thing or two not only to a shop class, but a business, accounting, economics, or psychology class for that matter.
Second, as the gentleman--whatever etc etc, there is a certain implication of another form of income. This seems to insulate them from the pains of the laborer. Or at least they don't comment on it. This is the omision that interests me. I am by no means a carpenter. I work in construction, but I'm as likely to have a drafting pencil, or a telephone in my hand than a hammer. Still the economic environment, and my willingness have conspired to put me in a position of the sledge hammerer, or the concrete sawyer as often as not. And I'm building my own home on nights and weekends.
The observation that I want to add, besides good work being a framework for a good life is that hard work hurts. From the incidental abrasion, to the run-in with the router, to the nagging tennis elbow. Work hurts. I'm 31, my kid brother is 24 and we share the sensation of numb forearms and fingers in our sleep.
The work is satisfying. It's rewarding. Building homes, or boats in my brother's case, is fascinating at times, and at least not borring at others. It fascilitates critical thought, and independence. It also destroys the human body. I love to write, play the guitar, and ride my motorcycle. For each of these I need strong, feeling hands. I have to build houses to pay the bills. I hope one of the hobbies starts to pay off soon.
Since I'm fortunate enough to split my time at work between management, and labor, I can probably make the good times last. But I, like those in more labor intensive careers will have to recon with reality one day. Bodies are like the things we build and service. They wear out. Maintenance,and caution are important, but on a long enough timeline all machines fail. That could not be clearer than to one who builds or repairs things.
The tingling, the numbness, the pain--they become familiar, like close associates, in some way. But deep down we all know, one day it will just hurt too much to continue. That is a sobering thought.
I really enjoy reading, and re-reading Matthew Crawford's Shopclass as Soulcraft. However, like most writing regaling the virtues of the common worker, or the romance of the farmer working the land. It is written by as man who is primarily a Philosophy Fellow at a Universty, or a writer with a home farm etc. The points they make are valid, provocative, and interesting. However there are a couple of key things missing.
First, the gentleman farmer, cabinet maker, or motorcycle, or auto repair shop owner is not only a tradesman, but a businessman. Someone with sensibilities that far surpass the turning of soil or wrenches. Someone, who could probably, from that position explain a thing or two not only to a shop class, but a business, accounting, economics, or psychology class for that matter.
Second, as the gentleman--whatever etc etc, there is a certain implication of another form of income. This seems to insulate them from the pains of the laborer. Or at least they don't comment on it. This is the omision that interests me. I am by no means a carpenter. I work in construction, but I'm as likely to have a drafting pencil, or a telephone in my hand than a hammer. Still the economic environment, and my willingness have conspired to put me in a position of the sledge hammerer, or the concrete sawyer as often as not. And I'm building my own home on nights and weekends.
The observation that I want to add, besides good work being a framework for a good life is that hard work hurts. From the incidental abrasion, to the run-in with the router, to the nagging tennis elbow. Work hurts. I'm 31, my kid brother is 24 and we share the sensation of numb forearms and fingers in our sleep.
The work is satisfying. It's rewarding. Building homes, or boats in my brother's case, is fascinating at times, and at least not borring at others. It fascilitates critical thought, and independence. It also destroys the human body. I love to write, play the guitar, and ride my motorcycle. For each of these I need strong, feeling hands. I have to build houses to pay the bills. I hope one of the hobbies starts to pay off soon.
Since I'm fortunate enough to split my time at work between management, and labor, I can probably make the good times last. But I, like those in more labor intensive careers will have to recon with reality one day. Bodies are like the things we build and service. They wear out. Maintenance,and caution are important, but on a long enough timeline all machines fail. That could not be clearer than to one who builds or repairs things.
The tingling, the numbness, the pain--they become familiar, like close associates, in some way. But deep down we all know, one day it will just hurt too much to continue. That is a sobering thought.
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