Tuesday, September 22, 2009

I'm not good with my hands, but I'd rather be a Welder.





























Riding the bus with my neighbor to the Train Station, I was bitching like always. I hate being a lawyer, lah-di-dah-di. He feigned sympathy. I pretended not to notice that he didn't care. I didn't actually care if he cared. I just needed to gripe. So, across from us on the bus was a welder in his full-on gear. He couldn't help but hear how miserable I was. He decided to contribute to the misery by sharing with us, his story:


When I was a little boy, I wanted to grow up to be like my papa. No one in my family said I should go to school or stay out of jail, I just knew I wanted to be like my papa and I couldn't do that if I got in trouble. He was a welder and he worked hard his whole life. Now, I'm a welder like my dad was and I'm 53 and 2 years from retirement. I look good for my age. I am fit. I weld bridges in Alaska. I weld boats at dock. I earn $80 an hour and life has been rough--but I think I did okay.


Yah. You did, man. I can feel my 30 something ass spread while you are growing muscles and earning $40 more per hour than my educated self.
Wouldn't life be grand if I ran a daycare and bred puppies. How much does that pay per hour?

2 comments:

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  2. I heard!!!! I am completely jealous of her actually. But student loans are a bitch.

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