Random Semicoherent Thoughts – Volume 43

A windstorm passed through town yesterday that knocked the top of a dead ash tree onto my roof. While I was very fortunate – a foot in any direction would have resulted in quite a bit of damage – I wanted to make sure it got removed as soon as possible. While I tried previously to get my neighbor who runs a tree service to remove it, he did not get the call yesterday. Someone willing to answer the call on a Sunday and promised to be out in the morning did. He arrived promptly at 9:00 with his crew of eight, quoted me a price of $1000 to remove it, and got the job. Half an hour later, his crew was done and on its way. What did I get for something that cost me three days pay? A tall gangly dude who could climb trees better than I can walk, a master class in chain saw work, a man who never dropped the cigarette while picking up two huge logs it would have taken two of me trips to carry, and one less tree on my house. Expensive? Yes. Too much? Probably. Worth it to me? Yes.

My grandfather worked maintenance in an aluminum foundry. A proud union man, he worked hard for his money. A man like that deserves his vacation, right? He took it, alright, and used it to paint houses. Working with a brush in each hand, he painted as many houses as he could. He used that money to put my mother and his sister through the best nursing school in the state. He settled for no less than a BSN for both of them.

My father sold heavy machinery in a sizable territory for a living. While most fathers spent their evenings with their families or at sports or in front of the television, he talked on the phone with the clients he wasn’t able to reach during the day. He sold during some times that weren’t all that kind to his business. Cell phones made his life a touch easier, but it was the hard years beating the bushes and building the relationships that truly paid off in the end.

I worked as a police and fire dispatcher for over two decades. While it’s not the physical profession my grandfather worked, it does take its toll on you. The profession hemorrhages overtime and I worked more than my fair share of it. Seventeen hour shifts were a common occurrence. Unlike many others, I chose to take the pay rather than earn comp time. The I figured it, everyone’s comp time would eventually find its way to my pay check. I now work for salary in an occupation ‘adjacent’ to dispatching. If only I could earn overtime for all that I do.

My mother and my stepmother worked – something not too terribly unusual for my generation. All three of my grandmothers worked – I include my stepgrandmother here – something a little bit more unusual. So I’m sure it’s not all that surprising that I married someone who also works hard. Ms. Boss and I met because we both worked in the same profession. Kids came relatively shortly after we were married and she put quite a bit of energy into that. After our last one was born, however, she went back to work as an eight-hour barista. Just six years later or so, she made it all the way to district manager where she became one of the best performers in the nation. She also earned her associates, bachelors, and MBA while still caring for our four daughters. When the boss she was working for wouldn’t support her moving up in the company, she found someone in another company who would. When that employer didn’t necessarily want the changes she was hired to make after all, she pivoted to another profession that made use of her best talent – her intelligence. If it wasn’t for pandemic, she would have been traveling internationally in 2020 exercising expertise in her field. Yes, she works hard, but more attractive to me, she also works smart.

I’ve been a slave to the cellphone for the past ten years in my role as “essential personnel”. Recently, I’ve started saying “I’m looking forward to retirement” despite the fact I’m fifteen years away from it. But am I really? I worked my first full day from home yesterday because my employer told me to, and as much as I thought I’d enjoy it, it did produce some anxiety in me that I wasn’t doing “real work”. I guess I’ll just have to keep going. Besides, tree removal has to be paid for somehow.

Haibun 2

match after match, firestarter after firestarter finding its way into the barrel – searching furtively not for the flames that come so easily, but for glowing coals – white hot intensity serving as a catalyst for change – power poised to render the pile to smoke and heat and flame over the coming hours – heat lingering for days after feeding has ceased – erupting again with the smallest of provocations – energy dwindling slowly towards ambience, dormancy, extinction

words on the page

dreams in the mind

wanting for more