Should’ve learned to weld…

Monday evening. Milepost One in the long march towards the three-day weekend. One of my go to responses to many events at the office these days is an exasperated reminder to the world that I could have learned to weld, apprenticed to be a plumber, or picked up any number of practical skills that ensured my long term employability. I’m told that at least one of my high school teachers recommended that amidst my perpetual struggle to grasp the basic concepts of algebra. Perhaps the old crank was on to something after all.

Instead of doing something productive like learning carpentry, I went to college and promptly put the thought of alternatives out of my head. I do wonder sometimes at what kind of difference it would have made had I found myself practicing an occupation where the end result is something to physically show for your efforts at the end of a day’s work. At least part of me thinks that’s got to be personally fulfilling on some level. Or maybe from where I sit it just seems more fulfilling than being the guy who churns out the memo with the fewest spelling and punctuation errors.

At the rate my bits and pieces seem to be grinding down, I’m not under any delusions of transforming myself into a tradesman at this late date. Between the shoulder problems, lower back pain, clicking knee, and the occasional bit of foot trouble behind a desk is probably the most reasonable place in the world for me to stay. While I’m there, though, I’m going to spend an unreasonable amount of time thinking that I should’ve learned to weld. With all the wisdom of hindsight I think a career that results in something less ephemeral than a voluminous stack of PowerPoint slides would have suited me.

It’s not “Remember the Maine,” but on short notice it’s the best I could do…

I’m over the quaintness of there being 21st century pirates. It was high drama for a week, but going into week two with stories of their attacking more American vessels has ceased to be entertaining at any level. The US government needs to call these “pirates” what they are: terrorists. With that understanding clear, the president must then deploy an American fleet to blockade the ports of Somalia and provide sufficient air and surface assets to escort American and allied shipping through the area. We’re not unfamiliar with such operations and successfully escorted tankers through hostile waters in the Persian Gulf during the Iran-Iraq war.

Since the dawn of the age of sail, the responsibility to maintain and protect the sanctity of free-travel on the high seas has fallen to the great powers. In the 18th and 19th centuries, the British Navy held the wolves at bay with wooden walls and hearts of oak. In the 20th century, the US Navy projected its power across the seas and far inland. In the 21st century, we must send the message with clarity of purpose that America and its allies will not quietly abide disruption of the free flow of free men. Simply stated, we must close with and destroy the enemy. Failure to carry out this program, sends a tragic signal that the free nations of the world have grown so soft and so willing to compromise the essential elements of freedom that they would rather pay millions and tribute to petty gangsters than engage in the difficult work of preserving and extending the liberty that so many have already sacrificed to establish.

I’m no slut…

Unlike a lot of people who work for a living, I’m freely admit that I’m a whore. It’s very simple, really: I trade my time for someone else’s money. I’ll do anything, anytime, anywhere, and although I am easy, I’m not cheap. I absolutely don’t believe in giving my time away for nothing. Not for God. Not for Country. Not for the satisfaction of seeing a job well done. I work for one reason: You pay me. Next time you ask me to do a job in an afternoon that would usually takes a couple of people a couple of days, let’s keep in mind that the clock is running. I’m lucky to enjoy the work and I’ll give you as much time as you want. Just remember that it’s going to cost you.