Labor Day….. What’s so great about labor?
Well, here it is, the holiday itself, Labor Day. I've never fully understood why we should have a holiday and celebrate labor since I have no desire or fondness for any form of labor. At a very young age, I discovered not only that labor was very hard work, but also that the harder the work, the less the pay. I have no idea why that should be celebrated.
Growing up in the South, where it rains frequently, cutting the grass is a weekly task if you want to maintain control over the rapidly growing weeds in your yard. And when I was barely old enough to reach the handle, I was introduced to an infernal machine known as a manual, rotary cut, lawn mower, or "push mower" for short.
I became acquainted with this abomination at a time when I had much better things to do, such as playing marbles, shooting my Red Ryder BB gun, and throwing rocks at my little sister. But someone had to cut the grass, and since my Air Force lifer dad was frequently off flying somewhere in the world, it fell upon me to cut the grass at least once a week, which made it obvious to me why my dad was always flying off to some country in the world no one had ever heard of.
For the untold misery of pushing that lawnmower around the yard for an hour or two I was paid the princely sum of 10 cents, one thin dime, 1/10 of a dollar, which would buy me a Superman comic book, but since I was a very fast reader it in no way made up for the hours of misery pushing that antique lawnmower back and forth across the yard.
But from that humble beginning, I learned the meaning of labor and the sparse compensation one receives for such labor. Even though I had a shiny John Deere riding lawnmower in my garage at my last home, I still hated cutting the grass, a problem that was only solved when I no longer had any grass to cut.
Theboondork
Sun setting over the 39-mile mountains.
Going for a walk at Pete’s.
Purple wildflowers at Pete’s.