Heigh Ho...Off To Freakin (?) Work We Go
Someone said once that 'work' is the most vile four letter word out there. Mom and Dad always told us that we shouldn't use four letter words. I remember the feelings that the word evoked in me as a kid when I heard Dad say, "Let's get to work!". The negative vibe shot through me from head to toe like wasp venom after a sting, instantly sending my sensibilities into shock. It wasn't the same feeling as I had when I heard other four letter words like "play" or "cake". See? Not all four letter words are bad! Mom and Dad were quick to teach my backside which four letter words were appropriate and which were not as I grew up. Somehow they hoped the vocabulary lesson would make the journey from my butt to my mouth. There must have been road construction and a few detours, because I think that lesson is still wondering around in me somewhere, hopelessly freakin lost...somewhere behind that &%$*(# dinkin around in the left lane on Highway 75.
My Dad was a hard worker. He could work my brothers and me under the table. And after a certain point in our upbringing, he seemed to expect us to keep up. That was a difficult to impossible proposition. He worked at the fire station, then came home and worked the farm. Because of the fire department schedule, he involved us at a fairly early age in the farming venture. We typically had chores to do before we went to school. I wasn't very big in stature even throughout high school. In Jr. High, I swear I looked like I could have been one of those poor kids on the Compassion International commercials with ribs showing, and twigs for arms and legs, and a slight pot belly. I weighed less than 90 pound which was what I weighed throughout the course of my 9th grade year. Before school, I would have a 5 gallon bucket of feed in one hand, and a 5 gallon bucket of water in the other, waddling toward the hog pen to unload them in the feed trough while trying not to spill the water all down my leg. You'd think I would have looked like Arnold Schwarteznegger after literally carrying my body weight in feed and water so frequently, but noooo....I still looked like I was deprived of basic nutrition and in need of donations. By the way, I had to carry it at least a half mile....uphill....in the snow....each way. And when I got home from school, I looked forward to more chores...yay.
I can't say that I always enjoyed work at the time. At times it really was that despicable four letter word. But in retrospect I learned how to do a wide variety of things. Dad was the stereotypical "jack of all trades" but ironically he was good at a lot of them. Mind you, this was before the time of YouTube and Google. Dad wouldn't hire people to do things for him, he'd learn how and then do it. He'd drive by a job site at watch, or look at a book or magazine to investigate, or go engage in casual conversation with experts in whatever it was he wanted to learn, he'd covertly (Bond...Raymond Bond) let them tell him exactly what needed to be done and he'd come home and do it. I watched...and learned. But one of the greatest things I learned (eventually) was a good work ethic. Dad actually enjoyed work.
I also learned, as life rocked along and I listened to other people, that a lot of folks have a negative attitude toward work. Some have the attitude that work should be avoided at all costs. Others have the goal that early retirement from work is the ultimate goal to be achieved. Still others make it their aim to get the job that pays the most for as little energy as can be expended. A few do all they can to get out of the work they were hired to do, probably spending more energy trying to avoid it or legally get out of it than if they actually did their job (and still get a 'paycheck'). Loverboy told us "everyone is working for the weekend"...and to listen to most of us talk, that seems to be about right. Just look at all the Facebook memes. A lot of people treat work as if it's God punishing us for doing stupid things, while we're missing a life of kicking back daily in the La-Z-Boy sipping on a cold umbrella drink.
In my 20's and 30's as I became familiar with the Bible, I was surprised to discover something interesting about work. Most of us know that God created man and woman and put them in the garden of Eden, and it was paradise as they lived life with him there. We also know that disobeying God (sin) banned them (and the rest of us) from the Garden. Thanks, dudes, you screwed us out of a life of leisure! However, had it been us, human nature dictates we would have been the same. But a closer look shows us that when God put man in the garden, and before banning us from it, we see that he not only put the man in the garden he gave him a task...to work the garden...to cultivate it. It was later that weeds and other things like it would make work more....work. Work wasn't the punishment, rather making work "work" was the consequence of man's disobedience. I think God may have intended us to enjoy the sense of accomplishment as we stand back and look at the work we've accomplished. I think he may have intended us to utilize some of that 'in the image of God' creativity that is unique to the creation (there's that word again) of man. Perhaps there is a sense of purpose, and responsibility that is intended to give us fulfillment as well.
I may be strange, but I don't mind work. I'd be embarrassed, really embarrassed if I listed every job I've had in my life. There have been many, in many different fields. I think I may have finally found out what I want to do when I grow up...Dad would be relieved and so proud. Do I always enjoy work? Of COURSE I do Gateway (no)!! Is it always fun? Of COURSE...I get to work 20 feet away from my wife daily (no)!! Do I always feel rewarded? No. Do I look forward to weekends and vacations? Yes, of course I do. I'm glad and thankful that I have a J.O.B.. I honestly can't imagine NOT working. I've told my coworkers at Gateway that they'll probably have to cart my dead body away from my desk on a refrigerator dolly. For me, and this is really a personal thing because I have a lot of friends and acquaintances doing so and I by no means think it's a bad thing, I just don't see myself retiring. I see too many people who retire and they don't do so well. I understand that sometimes it HAS to happen for multiple reasons. I also understand that there are some who simply CAN'T work. I'm talking about the average person. Perhaps this is my way of feeling better about being so financially far behind because of having to start all over again (self inflicted mostly) so many times in my life, putting me in the position that I couldn't retire if I wanted to...or if it's that I really have learned to find enjoyment in work. Maybe it's a little of both.
Regardless, I can say that on most Sundays, I don't have a sense of dread about Monday morning. Most Monday mornings I don't have to force myself out of bed because I simply don't want to go to work. Maybe our four letter word of the day doesn't yet have the same connotation as "play" or "cake", but I don't have the sense that it's killing me either. If you've seen me lately, I'm no longer the 90 pound Ethiopian lookin kid with ribs showing. It'll probably be the CAKE that gets me....but that's a topic for another episode. FG
My Dad was a hard worker. He could work my brothers and me under the table. And after a certain point in our upbringing, he seemed to expect us to keep up. That was a difficult to impossible proposition. He worked at the fire station, then came home and worked the farm. Because of the fire department schedule, he involved us at a fairly early age in the farming venture. We typically had chores to do before we went to school. I wasn't very big in stature even throughout high school. In Jr. High, I swear I looked like I could have been one of those poor kids on the Compassion International commercials with ribs showing, and twigs for arms and legs, and a slight pot belly. I weighed less than 90 pound which was what I weighed throughout the course of my 9th grade year. Before school, I would have a 5 gallon bucket of feed in one hand, and a 5 gallon bucket of water in the other, waddling toward the hog pen to unload them in the feed trough while trying not to spill the water all down my leg. You'd think I would have looked like Arnold Schwarteznegger after literally carrying my body weight in feed and water so frequently, but noooo....I still looked like I was deprived of basic nutrition and in need of donations. By the way, I had to carry it at least a half mile....uphill....in the snow....each way. And when I got home from school, I looked forward to more chores...yay.
I can't say that I always enjoyed work at the time. At times it really was that despicable four letter word. But in retrospect I learned how to do a wide variety of things. Dad was the stereotypical "jack of all trades" but ironically he was good at a lot of them. Mind you, this was before the time of YouTube and Google. Dad wouldn't hire people to do things for him, he'd learn how and then do it. He'd drive by a job site at watch, or look at a book or magazine to investigate, or go engage in casual conversation with experts in whatever it was he wanted to learn, he'd covertly (Bond...Raymond Bond) let them tell him exactly what needed to be done and he'd come home and do it. I watched...and learned. But one of the greatest things I learned (eventually) was a good work ethic. Dad actually enjoyed work.
I also learned, as life rocked along and I listened to other people, that a lot of folks have a negative attitude toward work. Some have the attitude that work should be avoided at all costs. Others have the goal that early retirement from work is the ultimate goal to be achieved. Still others make it their aim to get the job that pays the most for as little energy as can be expended. A few do all they can to get out of the work they were hired to do, probably spending more energy trying to avoid it or legally get out of it than if they actually did their job (and still get a 'paycheck'). Loverboy told us "everyone is working for the weekend"...and to listen to most of us talk, that seems to be about right. Just look at all the Facebook memes. A lot of people treat work as if it's God punishing us for doing stupid things, while we're missing a life of kicking back daily in the La-Z-Boy sipping on a cold umbrella drink.
In my 20's and 30's as I became familiar with the Bible, I was surprised to discover something interesting about work. Most of us know that God created man and woman and put them in the garden of Eden, and it was paradise as they lived life with him there. We also know that disobeying God (sin) banned them (and the rest of us) from the Garden. Thanks, dudes, you screwed us out of a life of leisure! However, had it been us, human nature dictates we would have been the same. But a closer look shows us that when God put man in the garden, and before banning us from it, we see that he not only put the man in the garden he gave him a task...to work the garden...to cultivate it. It was later that weeds and other things like it would make work more....work. Work wasn't the punishment, rather making work "work" was the consequence of man's disobedience. I think God may have intended us to enjoy the sense of accomplishment as we stand back and look at the work we've accomplished. I think he may have intended us to utilize some of that 'in the image of God' creativity that is unique to the creation (there's that word again) of man. Perhaps there is a sense of purpose, and responsibility that is intended to give us fulfillment as well.
I may be strange, but I don't mind work. I'd be embarrassed, really embarrassed if I listed every job I've had in my life. There have been many, in many different fields. I think I may have finally found out what I want to do when I grow up...Dad would be relieved and so proud. Do I always enjoy work? Of COURSE I do Gateway (no)!! Is it always fun? Of COURSE...I get to work 20 feet away from my wife daily (no)!! Do I always feel rewarded? No. Do I look forward to weekends and vacations? Yes, of course I do. I'm glad and thankful that I have a J.O.B.. I honestly can't imagine NOT working. I've told my coworkers at Gateway that they'll probably have to cart my dead body away from my desk on a refrigerator dolly. For me, and this is really a personal thing because I have a lot of friends and acquaintances doing so and I by no means think it's a bad thing, I just don't see myself retiring. I see too many people who retire and they don't do so well. I understand that sometimes it HAS to happen for multiple reasons. I also understand that there are some who simply CAN'T work. I'm talking about the average person. Perhaps this is my way of feeling better about being so financially far behind because of having to start all over again (self inflicted mostly) so many times in my life, putting me in the position that I couldn't retire if I wanted to...or if it's that I really have learned to find enjoyment in work. Maybe it's a little of both.
Regardless, I can say that on most Sundays, I don't have a sense of dread about Monday morning. Most Monday mornings I don't have to force myself out of bed because I simply don't want to go to work. Maybe our four letter word of the day doesn't yet have the same connotation as "play" or "cake", but I don't have the sense that it's killing me either. If you've seen me lately, I'm no longer the 90 pound Ethiopian lookin kid with ribs showing. It'll probably be the CAKE that gets me....but that's a topic for another episode. FG
Comments
Post a Comment