The Workingman's Holiday

2014 Dungeness Crab Extravaganza

Labor Day weekend was spent on the Oregon coast with friends.  Hours were spent catching, cleaning, and eating crab.  Early morning fishing outings netted a nice salmon, and the beach provided a beautiful playground for four boys to adventure for hours.

2015 - Same lineup!

Over the course of the weekend I thought a lot about celebrating this holiday of Labor.  A quick Google search validated my thoughts.  Labor day is indeed a day to celebrate "the workingman's holiday".  A day to give tribute to the contributions that men and women have given to the health, well-being, and prosperity of our country.  All of us on the trip were hard-working, child-rearing, tax-paying citizens and it was a grand three days off from our working woes.  Go us, we all deserved an extra day off.
I've worked a job since I was 12 years old.  My first summer job was running a small gift shop in the town of Montague, CA.  My parents "robbed a train", gave wagon rides, and I got to work at the Opera House.  I was in charge of my own cash register and daily inventory of trinkets purchased.  On nights when the train ran in the evenings, I actually got to work in the restaurant pouring lemonade or iced tea to patrons.  It was there that Mrs. Montague taught me the proper way to pour into a glass from a pitcher.  It takes the right angle to not slosh ice.  I don't remember what I earned, but I can guarantee that it wasn't much.  It wasn't about the money, it was about the sense of pride I felt with the responsibility given to me.

I think I worked there for at least a couple of summers.  Soon after that, I began babysitting very consistently and then moving wheel lines for a ranch that was right below our house.  I got up early every day during the summer and walked or rode my bike about a mile to the shop.  The grass was wet and cold and sometimes the motor of the four-wheeler or the movers wouldn't start.  I earned $2.00 a wheel line and could move about 17 in a little under two hours.  By the time I was done, I smelled like fuel, had dirt under my fingernails, and my clothes were ruined.  Only to do it all over again ten hours later.  As an employee, I was a bit of a trainwreck to have on the ranch.  My wheellines weren't always straight, I sometimes ran over things I shouldn't, and I had a habit of losing hammers or other metal pieces in the alfalfa fields.  Whichever boy running the swather on that cutting would begrudgingly find them for me.  Between moving water twice a day, I watched three kids for the ranch family.  A paycheck was earned every two weeks.  Again, I didn't do the job because I needed the money.  The work happened because it made me feel good, a feeling I can now associate with validation.

Even during college I worked.  I remember the conversation with my mom distinctly.  "But, you don't HAVE to work, are you sure you want to do this?".  In the midst of taking 17 - 20 units, being on a collegiate triathlon team, training, and living away from home, I also took on the job of being a nanny for a family.  Once home from college, I realized that having a job without feeling dirty and smelling like gasoline all of the time - might be a bonus.  It was a hard conversation to let the ranch know I wouldn't be working for them again.  Despite all of my mistakes, they really thought I did a nice job.  After a couple summers at Sears selling washing machines, it was time to further my education.  Even when going on in grad school I still worked several days a week as a substitute teacher.  Again, I didn't have to.  I was financially sound.  I wanted to.  I was intrinsically motivated.  Teaching for eight years, running a small family farm, and now I'm working harder than ever in my second year as a principal.

God Bless America, thank you for that one day off a year.  Thank you for acknowledging that my hard work and paychecks have helped benefit our country and the economy.

All I can hope is that my children can see the benefits of hard work from their parents.  I hope they can see that it's not always easy, that work is indeed difficult, but that the rewards come bountifully.  I love the idea that "if you do what you love, you won't have to work hard another day in your life", but I don't believe in ultimatums and I think that's a bunch of crap.  No matter what you do, or how much you love what you do, you will have hard days and work will strain you.  For it isn't without the hard times, that we can appreciate the beauty of life.

Nice shot Carter!

Getting ready for opening day of rifle season!

Carter gets out of school every day at 2:15.  Three days a week, Carter packs "shop clothes" in his backpack along with his snack and green folder, and his dad picks him up from school.  The two of them return to the shop and Carter spends the next two and a half hours or so folding shop towels, cleaning the bathroom, and/or working on trucks with his dad.  Each day he's responsible for filling out his time card in order to redeem his $2 and hour every two weeks.  Carter doesn't HAVE to work.  The kid has anything he needs and the opportunity to attend a wonderful after-school program each day.  He chooses to work alongside his dad and earn extra cash.  Extra cash he brings with him to football games, only to spend on his little brother or friends.  Extra cash he donates to tip-jars of musicians playing downtown Bandon over Labor Day weekend.  

Whatever you do in life, do it well, smile, and have fun - but don't expect it to be unicorns and rainbows every day of the week.  Even if you are netting 200 crab, and a 27 pound salmon with the best friends that money couldn't every buy.