Kind of a curious thing about flu season and the approach people will take – some will rail on about the evils and “conspiracies” related to flu vaccinations and yet once stricken will either self medicate with the over the counter remedies of dubious efficacy and reputation or pay a visit to the doctors office for a shot and a prescription or two or three.
Kind of reminds me of people who go on about WalMart and shop there nonetheless.
I don’t take the flu shot, but it isn’t because I believe there is a conspiracy to whittle down the population or create a generation of sterile mutants, I just don’t seem to come down with the flu, or colds for that matter, maybe a genetic inheritance I’ve been gifted with – but if I was susceptible I might well get in the vaccination line and think nothing of it.
When it comes to health issues I’m not advocating for such things as I think people should address them as they will, with some qualifications when it comes to children.
It isn’t as though I don’t test the flu/cold fates, when the work bell sounds I go regardless of the weather, I’m willing to lay under a house in mud or snow replacing plumbing if that’s what it takes, if it’s raining I don’t much care if I get wet, the concern is my tools, the damage that can be done to them and the associated cost of replacement.
I’ve caught some caring heat for that at times, the hands on the hips Nurse Ratchet look, a gentle scolding expressing concern, even a tearful statement of appreciation for the effort made and the willingness to do so.
While I attempt to accommodate such concerns, the independence and responsibility of earning a living and self reliance is a siren’s call that beckons, and a duty to respond to.
There will come a day when I’m no longer to able to swing the hammer, or carry decking and shingles up a ladder to do a roof. When the cold will be an inescapable adversary old bones, sinew, and muscles are destined to confront.
I view that as part of the natural progression and have no fear of it – until the arrival of such a day I intend to continue making the bacon as they say, I intend to provide, I intend to be a man to the best of my ability come rain, hail, sleet, or snow.
People talk about a work ethnic, an ethnic laden with nuances not often verbalized yet nonetheless real.
Nuances that encompass family and loved ones, the where with all to help others regardless of how small such help may be – dependency, though unavoidable for some, is a ball and chain, a stone to carry that weighs down, it isn’t living a life it is surviving one until the time comes to move on.
I intend to live, not merely survive – and as a friend of mine says, to be a soldier in the war on poverty whose face I have known all too well as many have and continue to.
A grandfather, a distinct honor of mine to know, once said it is better to dig in the dirt with a stick than for a little one to go hungry. If that’s what it takes we should all have a stick at our disposal.
I am a human being, that and nothing more – there is nothing special about me, the opinions I hold, or the work ethic I adhere to – but too much has been ceded or taken from the nations, and I’m not willing to surrender so much as a inch of what remains nor any measure of the independence that comes from answering the bell.
I’m fortunate in that I have marketable skills, skills that weren’t given to me, I learned and earned them the hard way working for little or nothing because of my ancestry in a climate both exploitative and racist in nature.
An uphill battle that has changed now due to skill set and experience, if I could do that anyone with the desire to do so can as well.