Most of you know that I really like the liberal arts, especially history and English. Kind of shows in the blog, doesn’t it? Taught properly they teach one critical thinking skills that one needs to get through life properly.
But they are my avocation, I spent many years as an electrician and a lineman, and that’s what I identify as. The guy with the most common sense that I know of is Mike Rowe, and he’s been on Tucker Carlson’s show a couple of times. Let’s see what he has to say.
Tucker makes a good point here, there is a real satisfaction in doing good. I’ve never seen a lineman that was real unhappy when we come in from storm work, bone tired, grumpy, and cold, yes, but also very happy that we got the lights back on. Yeah, we all like the money, but the job satisfaction is priceless. Besides, basic liberal arts should be taught at the secondary level, it was when I was a kid, that’s the basis of what I know, sure I’ve read a lot since then, but the basic structure of it all comes from high school, and to be honest, so did my vocational choice. Here’s another from Mike and Tucker.
He’s right, of course, if you can stand the lifestyle, Dakota is write your-own-ticket-land for a skilled man or woman. It’s rough, it’s lonely, and part of the year it’s cold as the dickens and summer is hot as hell. I’d be there twenty years ago, cause it’s also fun, and a lot of guys work from March or April till about Thanksgiving, and go south for the winter. Especially for a young guy without a family, booming, as we call it, is great fun. But if you want a settled life, in any of the technical trades, it’s pretty good there too, you won’t make as much, but you’ll be home at night, and you’ll do fine.
Another thing Mike doesn’t talk about here is that I know exactly one electrician on my level younger than forty. No doubt there are others, I like the rural lifestyle, and you’ll probably find more in the cities. My level is to be able to take a block diagram of a system and make it work safely and efficiently. Like one I did twenty-five years ago, before we computer controlled everything, where Joe Farmer drives up to his bin site and dumps wet corn in the pit and the system puts 14% moisture corn in the bin, automatically. Yes, it’s easier now, with computer controls instead of relays and discrete sensor systems, but it’s still not easy. It looked a lot like the one that leads this article
And it’s the same in all the trades, one generation behind me, it’s going to end if somebody, like Mike, doesn’t get people excited about it. It takes some brains, a willingness to learn, and an ability to do the work, and the combination is exceedingly rare. It’s also a big part of how we got here, the ability to solve problems in the field, without calling in every time we hit a snag.
But yeah, I’m one of the guys that will argue with engineers trained in the classroom. I’ll win too, not always, but often. I know because I’ve spent a lifetime doing this stuff, and I’ve pretty much kept up with technology, even if I write crap code. It’s at least as challenging as anything you can learn to do, and the job satisfaction, when it all works, is simply incredible, and the money isn’t bad.
And way back up in the first video, Tucker was right, people who deal with the real world, don’t burn the flag, mostly because we’re too busy earning a damned good living at 25 without student debt to have time to be silly like that. And besides, even if we are liberal (and some are) we know damned well that without America much of this wouldn’t exist. And it’s a lot more fun than sitting in an office playing with a computer, especially if you don’t get much feedback on how you’re doing.
And hey, Kipling even wrote a poem about us, don’t think he did that for junior accountants with a quarter million in student debt, It’s called the Sons of Martha
THE Sons of Mary seldom bother, for they have inherited that good part;
But the Sons of Martha favour their Mother of the careful soul and the troubled heart.
And because she lost her temper once, and because she was rude to the Lord her Guest,
Her Sons must wait upon Mary’s Sons, world without end, reprieve, or rest.
It is their care in all the ages to take the buffet and cushion the shock.
It is their care that the gear engages; it is their care that the switches lock.
It is their care that the wheels run truly; it is their care to embark and entrain,
Tally, transport, and deliver duly the Sons of Mary by land and main.
They say to mountains, ” Be ye removèd” They say to the lesser floods ” Be dry.”
Under their rods are the rocks reprovèd – they are not afraid of that which is high.
Then do the hill tops shake to the summit – then is the bed of the deep laid bare,
That the Sons of Mary may overcome it, pleasantly sleeping and unaware.
They finger death at their gloves’ end where they piece and repiece the living wires.
He rears against the gates they tend: they feed him hungry behind their fires.
Early at dawn, ere men see clear, they stumble into his terrible stall,
And hale him forth like a haltered steer, and goad and turn him till evenfall.
To these from birth is Belief forbidden; from these till death is Relief afar.
They are concerned with matters hidden – under the earthline their altars are
The secret fountains to follow up, waters withdrawn to restore to the mouth,
And gather the floods as in a cup, and pour them again at a city’s drouth.
They do not preach that their God will rouse them a little before the nuts work loose.
They do not teach that His Pity allows them to leave their job when they damn-well choose.
As in the thronged and the lighted ways, so in the dark and the desert they stand,
Wary and watchful all their days that their brethren’s days may be long in the land.
Raise ye the stone or cleave the wood to make a path more fair or flat;
Lo, it is black already with blood some Son of Martha spilled for that !
Not as a ladder from earth to Heaven, not as a witness to any creed,
But simple service simply given to his own kind in their common need.
And the Sons of Mary smile and are blessèd – they know the angels are on their side.
They know in them is the Grace confessèd, and for them are the Mercies multiplied.
They sit at the Feet – they hear the Word – they see how truly the Promise runs.
They have cast their burden upon the Lord, and – the Lord He lays it on Martha’s Sons !