Summer Work

“Eh, I tell ya- this is the life.”

“Oh yeah, working out in the blistering sun in 90 degree heat shoveling manure all day- what could be better?”

“Ok, dude- first off, it’s compost- not manure. We’re ‘green’ now. Second, would you sooner be stuck in some office with some pencil-dick brown-noser looking over your shoulder every two seconds?”

“At least then there’d be air conditioning. Wouldn’t be out here sweatin’ like Springstein.”

“Sure, air conditioning and status meetings and neck ties and more managers than you could shake your shovel at. Plus, there’d be no cold beer at lunch time, no good ‘ol shoulder-to-the-grindstone work pride and no tan on your brow. I’m tellin’ ya, dude- this is the work men were meant to do. This is what we’ve been doin’ throughout human history!”

“What, standing in some yuppie family’s yard landscaping a lawn? I don’t think that’s the kind of work pride you’re thinking of.”

“No, dude- it’s the same damned thing. Buildin’ shit, plantin’ shit, makin’ shit work- it’s all labor. Good, hard, honest labor. No business politics or financial crap. You know what’s happenin’ to all your friends in their air conditioned offices? They’re losin’ their jobs and their big, fancy houses because their pickle-assed managers and CEOs blew billions of dollars on some stupidly confusing ponzi scheme.”

“I think your understanding of the current economic crisis is a little off…”

“But not us, dude. We ain’t never gonna be out of work”

“Yeah, until the winter.”

“So you take a couple months off, even teachers get a summer vacation. I’m telling ya, since the dawn of time people have been doin’ this work and no matter what happens with the banks and wall street bozos there’ll always be people who need labor. Hell, if the apocalypse came right now and all technology shut down the only important jobs would be crap like this. Every crazy movie that comes out where the planet’s bein’ blown up by aliens or robots or whatever there are people doing shit like this when they go to rebuild. We’re the backbone, dude. We keep shit workin’.”

“I still don’t see how landscaping qualifies as a “backbone of civilization” sort-of job.”

“See, that’s your problem- thinkin’. You think too much.”

“I think too much?”

“Yeah, you’re always philosophizin’ and questioning shit and whatever you do up in that crazy head a yours. You gotta shut all that stuff up and just work, man. Just work the muscles, get a good sweat goin’, enjoy the sunlight and all that shit and just work, man.”

“Like zen and the art of landscape maintenance, huh?”

“There ya go, philosophizing again.”

“Well, what would you call it?”

“Work, dude. That’s it. Just good, honest work. No business or cheatin’ or any of that crap, just workin’ a good day, comin’ home, drinking a beer and watching the game. That’s how my old man did it, and he died at the ripe ol’ age of 92, happy as a clam. Didn’t say much, didn’t think much, just did simple, honest work. That’s the life.”

“Well, I guess it’s better than kissing some manger’s ass all day.”

“Yeah, man- hell yeah! That’s the spirit. Now keep shovelin!”