My passion for learning, language and fixing things have been who I am for these many years. My love of fixing things led to what some think is too much education because I wanted to fix people’s bodies. For me that shared passion brings a genuine sense of closeness for that group we call “working people.” This is not to ignore the gift of my work itself that brought me into the lives of so many who taught me so much.
“Working people” not only use their talent and often hands and strong backs to secure decent living conditions for themselves. They are Workers. They figure things out and make things work! Why I don’t know, they seem destined to be ignored and disrespected, even invisible, in favor of entertainers and rapscallions. But it is not fair.
Today I have an especial fondness and appreciation because I am literally kept alive by young men’s muscles and good cheer in doing for the pittance I can afford those tasks I once could do for myself or had family to do. Their formal education and taste may not be the same as mine but their value to me and as a group, the world is beyond price.
Life would simply come to a standstill if it weren’t for the guys and women who figure how to make things work and then jump in and do it.