It Isn’t All Glamour

Like many old white guys, especially those like me who are stuck off by themselves much of the time, I have a stock of lines and stories that I have fooled myself into believing deserve to be repeated again and again. It is my firm belief that all around me find these funny. They’re not just laughing or reacting out of a bored politeness.

One of my stock lines is “It isn’t all glamour in ….” I might complete the line, depending where I am with “retail sales” or “cleaning” or whatever. The reaction I’m hoping for is that the person will chuckle and say something like, “You got that right,” or “Really.” It isn’t much, but it keeps me in the game. I can claim a faux sensitivity for the person and everything.

When, however, I manage to keep my mouth shut, and a conversation does open up, I get to know the person in front of me. This is far more rewarding. All jobs have parts that aren’t so glamorous. Doing them may or may not give the person satisfaction. Giving him or her a chance to express that, lets them reveal something important.

The picture you see today is a situation I dealt with yesterday. I took a bike out of the way so you can see the jumbled pile of wood. That wood had to be partially unpiled and some of it cut up for the beginning of the process toward a dining room table. I had five helpers in this work: the kiddos (my name for the kittens that live in my shop). The wood was heavy and covered with dust. It certainly was an unglamorous job, but I liked doing it and overcoming the challenge. As a boy, I was never happier than if I had a ball of tangled string or fishing line to untangle.

My life is outside of glamour, and I should allow others the same opportunity to find theirs.