The whole industry is powered by problems in need
of solutions, and no two issues a worker encounters are the same.
I love Labor Day. Few three-day weekends throughout the year
happen at a more ideal period. With fall and football on the horizon, Labor Day
inadvertently celebrates both the relief from excessively oppressive summer
heat and the emphatic end of an insufferably long sports famine.
Instituted to celebrate the contributions of the working man to
society, it is more likely to invoke feverish visions of backyard barbecues and
the ice-cold companionship of your favorite lager. But in keeping with the
meaning of the holiday I thought it a worthy opportunity to reflect on a few of
the more intriguing areas of life as a blue-collar American.
An underappreciated element about vocational jobs is how
intrinsically motivating they can be. A distinctly human demand that must be
nurtured throughout life, lest you face a nagging sense of meaninglessness, is
found in accomplishing goals.
This is a built-in feature of most vocational work. The whole
industry is powered by problems in need of solutions, and no two issues a
worker encounters are the same. Whether the enterprise is replacing a light
fixture, installing a new motor in an air conditioner, or framing a wall, the
dynamic of attaining goals can be seen in nearly all areas of these industries.
For instance, one (particularly dirty) job I would have not
initially imagined offering such a sense of accomplishment is the process of
clearing a clogged sink. This job is as crude as it may seem. The operator
takes anywhere from a 25- to 100-foot metal cable of varying girths that is
wound up in a spinning drum and powered by a pneumatic switch that the user
essentially shoves down a drain line until he manually removes a clog.
As for most jobs, the distinction between a rookie and a veteran
become visibly clear, if not in proficiency, then in way the operator uses the
machine. My first experiences with this tool ended by bending the cable on a
few different occasions and rarely clearing any lines. After repeating the
effort several times I had come to realize the trick is not in cramming the
cable down the drain line, but in guiding it and letting the machine do most of
the work.
The process
of learning brings to mind an old Taoist parable about
a butcher who learned “the way” and never again needed to sharpen the knife he
used to cut up oxen. He said a bad butcher must sharpen his knife monthly, a
good one does it yearly, and he has not sharpened his in 19 years. While he
attributes the Tao for his expert skill, his description of having developed a
sixth sense for what he does and his exceedingly high level of understanding
with regard to his profession rings true both for the butcher and the plumber.
Another skill set that leaves me in awe of human ingenuity is
locksmithing. The intricacies and various small moving parts necessary to
create a functional doorknob are truly something to behold. To make a lock
work, a set of pins aligned within a cylinder (that is within a larger
cylinder) is required. It typically features about six pins, each of which
correspond with a particular cut on a key. Each “tooth” on this key is cut to
align with a tiny pin.
The series of cuts on the key push these small pins upwards
towards a spring-loaded chamber with another series of pins hidden within the
larger cylinder. What makes a key able to unlock a door is pushing both sets of
pins upwards into a flush position between the two cylinders. If a single pin,
smaller than an inch in length, does not become flush, then the door will not
unlock. The skills required to pin a lock are not necessarily difficult to
develop, but the magnitude of creation and imagination, and the shaping of
brass and iron that goes into making a functional door knob is truly
breathtaking.
Sense of
triumph and ingenuity aside, much like having access to a sink-clearing machine
or a series of key pins and cutters, the right tools are of the utmost
importance when faced with a series of tasks. By far, in my opinion, the best
tool for almost every type of work is the reciprocating saw.
This is a genius little tool that functions like a power drill,
except instead of rotating, the saw blade furiously moves in and out. With a
disposable blade on the end, most often about the size of a ruler, the
reciprocating saw has the capacity to cut through nearly any material. Its
utility makes it a fantastic tool for any trade. I have used mine when
replacing sinks, signs, cutting holes in sheet rock, and breaking down wooden
pallets or worn-out furniture. Of course, as the saying goes, “When you are a
hammer everything looks like a nail.” The same can be said of a man with a
reciprocating saw.
Of course, this is no definitive list of the contributions of
working men throughout the country, but it is among the more interesting sorts
of jobs in which I find immense meaning and pleasure. When the average reader
will encounter various meditations on “wage slavery” or some other hysterical
half-cocked polemic about the plight of the working man, it seems only fair to
point out that most of us receive a lot more from what we do than a paycheck.
Working in an industry where I regularly encounter every type of tradesman, I
have never heard a single complaint that registers in the same orbit as the
common hyperventilating hot-takes in their name I often see in print.
Let it be said that I think it is good we get our own holiday. I
am not going to suggest we deserve it, but I will certainly hope everyone spends
little time thinking about the purpose of Labor Day, and focuses instead on the
more important issues of cold beer and barbecues.
Mike is a
husband and dad from Denton, Texas. He writes for the online publication the Libertarian Catholic and
can be followed on Twitter.
