Saturday, February 23, 2008

The Joy of Labor (Cigar Smoke 2-21-08)

You know, I was driving along Orange Grove the other day and I saw these Mexican guys along the street looking for work. I see them all the time. Either by Throop Lumber or over by that paint store on East Colorado or in Home Depot parking lots. All over the place.

And, all of a sudden, it hit me. The only guys looking for work are Mexicans!

Now, as you may know, I am definitely against illegal immigration, and I want that damn fence built as soon as possible. I think it's nuts to keep letting in millions of people who flout our laws. I think plans to give illegal aliens drivers' licenses is almost as crazy as the churches giving them safe havens. I think the churches should be held accountable for helping people commit criminal acts. I don't think our schools should accept illegal aliens. I don't think illegal aliens should be entitled to welfare.

However, after saying all that, it does strike me as quite telling that the only people looking for work on the streets are Mexicans. You never see any black guys out there looking for work. With the constant political mantra of poverty in our inner cities and all that, you would think that black guys would be out looking for work. You would be wrong. They aren't.

You never see groups of black guys waiting for contractors so they can get some day labor work. At least, I never see them. You never see black guys rushing some guy's van asking for work. You never see black guys dressed in work clothes ready to work. Hoping to work. You just don't see it. It doesn't happen.

Now, if you think I'm making a racist statement here, saying that black guys aren't looking for work and Mexican guys are, I don't think that's true. And you know why? I'll tell you why. I don't see white guys looking for work either. There are never groups of white guys on corners asking you if you need help. Nope. No white guys. And no black guys. And, by the way, no black or white women, either. The only people who are looking for work on the streets are Mexican guys.

As much as I am against having illegal aliens in the country, I think it's admirable how eager the Mexican people are about trying to find jobs. They really want to work. It seems to me that they don't want handouts. It seems to me that they genuinely want to work and make money and buy stuff they don't really need like the rest of us. They're not asking for welfare. And they aren't afraid to start at the lowest levels. I admire that. I damn well admire that.

I was just thinking. In the past 10 years, say, I don't think I've seen even one worker - who came to my house to work on the lawn or in construction or some blue-collar trade kind of task - who was not Mexican. I mean it. No black guys. No white guys. No Asian guys. Sure, some of the head honchos were white. And black. And Asian. But the helpers were ALL Mexicans. I know this is not a scientific study, but hey, if there is a wall, and there is handwriting on the wall, I read it.

It seems like a lot of our homegrown young people, black and white, could learn a lesson from these Mexican dudes. These guys are not afraid to get their hands dirty. They are not afraid to work in the fields. They are not afraid to work in gardens and or on lawns. They are not afraid to clean things. They are not afraid to paint. They are not afraid of a little grease. They are not afraid to sweat. They don't think it's beneath them to have to change their clothes after work.

Seems to me that they truly embrace work. They believe in the work ethic. They believe that if they work hard, they will be better off. And damn it, they're right! A lot of our kids don't seem to want to work hard any more. They see no value in working some supposedly meaningless or trivial job. Hey, I had a lot of grunt jobs growing up. But not a one of them was meaningless or trivial. I got a lot out of all of them. Yes, I used to date Polly Anna.

I'm serious. I mowed lawns. I washed dishes. I was a waiter. I worked in a can factory. I drove trucks. I swept floors. I cleaned drug bottles in a pharmacy. I hauled shit. I hauled it back. I worked on the green chain in a lumber mill. I was a Gandy Dancer for the railroad. I hoed weeds. I worked at the Post Office. I made window screens. I worked at a machine shop. I was an usher. I was a clerk. I sold stuff. I cleaned fish. Yes, I was pretty much wonderful. Polly and I made a nice couple.

I got so much out of all those crazy jobs - just being around all the different kinds of people. And learning what businesses were all about. And getting paid real money for something. And just the damn pleasure of working hard to finish a job, and then admiring your work as the sweat ran down your forehead and into your eyes. I loved it.

I wouldn't trade it for a million bucks. A million five, maybe.

Oh hell, I'll get down off my soapbox. Heights kind of scare me anyway. I guess I just wish kids who are American citizens would realize how much they can get out of trivial jobs. You can learn a lot by working your butt off. You can learn a lot by getting dirty. You can learn a lot by starting at the bottom.

You can learn a lot by doing what these Mexican guys are doing.