working man blues
These relentless rains this winter have driven me indoors, driven me half crazy and three quarters mildewed, driven me to search for new hobbies to kill the dripping, foggy hours. Could explain why we have so many artists down here. Boredom, seems to me, is the midwife of creativity. You can either sink into the soft cushions of cable TV or you can search for something meaningful to do that doesn’t involve drugs or alcohol. At least not too early in the day….
I got friends who’ve ‘retired’ now. Interesting word, retired. Sounds like slippers shuffling toward the bedroom. Ssshhh, Jerome’s retired, let’s keep our voices down. He’s worked all his life and now he could use a rest. La-Z-Boy, all day sweatpants wardrobe, some long peaceful hours of quality daytime television. He’s earned it, he says. You’re just tired, I say. REtired, he adds.
Jerome worked 40 years at a company off island making doors. When he reached 65, that’s what they gave him instead of a gold watch. The door. Sort of left him with a bitter taste in his mouth, he tells me every chance he gets. And a pension, I add so he doesn’t forget. He slaps a dismissive hand on the recliner. Forty years, he growls, and I get the scraps.
We both know I won’t be getting any scraps. Course, we know I didn’t give some corporation 40 years of my life either. Fair is fair. Jerome will gladly tell you I don’t deserve zip. What I don’t understand is his smoldering anger. What he doesn’t understand is my undercurrents of happiness. NOT giving away 40 years to a company makes it seem obvious only to one of us.
Jerome complains about his taxes and I know he’s worried he may have to sell his home and move somewhere less expensive than the gentrified South End. He talks about maybe starting a little side business, small engine repair maybe or doing a little handyman work. He’s been talking about that long before he retired. Long before he was tired. So yeah, Jerome is bored half out of his bald skull. Some might say he’s lazy, but HE wouldn’t. He worked long enough. I’ve got a very long time of working before I figure it’s quittin time. I suspect Jerome wouldn’t agree, but I think I might just be the lucky one.
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