Today's victi--er, guest: Riiya-chan, from Nashville, TN... ^_^; Be sure to check out his Webstation of Despair....

Hello. I'm Riiya-Chan. And it's Friday night, I'm sitting at home in front of my computer, occasionally spouting some smart-ass remarks on IRC or viewing some of my favorite web sites. Normal as usual, I prefer being on-line rather than taking part in an old past-time of mine (which would be “dragging Main Street”.) It's a small town affair, really. I don't expect you or anyone else to understand.

Anyway, I decided to commandeer control of this editorial away from Raider. I could have just as easily done it on my neighboring webpage, but I enjoy Raider's editorials and felt it necessary to get in on the fun. Raider's done some pretty damn nifty things with his site and you'll see me mimicking some of it on my site. I don't try to be original, I'd rather get my point across.

As most (some) (a select few) people know, I have been working as a graphic artist for Linda Demith. Linda Demith has her own artist's group made up of poets, singers, hairdressers, people who like to draw, etc. I always figured that I'd enjoy that kind of job. Truth be told, I didn't.

It wasn't Linda. Linda is one of the nicest, most thoughtful people I know. My job was good and secure, I had decent income, and my own (!) office. Truly nice indeed. However, I was on the verge of misery. My usual angstful self found his get up and go and got up and went.

It hit me one day as I walked to the bank to make a deposit. I saw a city worker digging a hole in the street (for repairs.) I felt a tinge of jealousy for a moment. Then, I realized why I was misery-boy. During the last year I worked for a company called Comfort Control, as a duct technician. It was simple, but hard work. I enjoyed my job, and I enjoyed my co-workers company. They were crude, fowl-mouthed individuals but they were honest and kind. One who sticks out in my mind is Mr. Boyd, who helped me get my 1968 Plymouth Satellite (editorial note: in the “Friends” section of Raider3's homepage, he mistakenly wrote that I was into “late model Chryslers.” Plymouths, Raider, Plymouths. ^_^). All the people I worked with were at least ten years older than me, and from that, I realized that I can't stand my peers (Sean, Chris, Brady, irc.anime.net, and the rest of you yay-hoos are exempt from that statement). I quit working for Comfort Control when I was put to work with someone my age who didn't know when to shut up.

Upset, embittered and determined, I decided to throw my hat in the ring for a more white-collar job. I fired off resumes to every ad I saw in the paper. I have a fairly impressive resume for someone my age without college, but I can count on one hand the amount of letters I received in response to my resume. All of them kindly told me that I was turned down.

I finally landed a job with Linda Demith, and things went peachy keen for a while. Eventually, it got to the point where I requested that I only work weekends for her and I returned to the blue-collar workforce, my first assignment being today. It began with removing railroad ties (6” x 6” wooden beams, ranging from 3’ to 10” and from 100 to 400 pounds) from a depression on a doctor's property that was filled with foot-deep mud. It rained last night.

This doctor owned a 13,000 square foot one-story house with an Olympic-sized swimming pool and tennis courts in the back. It was on well over 30 acres of prime Nashville land (Nashville land prices are among the highest in the nation), and the driveway alone was pure concrete and half a mile long. The doctor has already made plans to add a second story to his house. The plans include a 3700 square foot master bedroom. For those of you who don't understand amount of room this place has, take this for example: An average $150,000 home is 1500-2000 square feet.
In other words, this dude had money. In fact, he's up there with the top 99% of the well off people in Nashville.

Well, the doctor was home for the rest of the day, and guess what he decides to do?

He comes out and helps us the whole day. In the mud. Raising the light fixtures, pouring concrete, filling the holes. Doing the dirty, slovenly work. Needless to say it blew my mind. It was obvious that he had no prior experience in backbreaking labor but went along with it, commenting on how pretty the day was.

Money changes people. It creates insufferable castes in our society. A poverty-level person can win the lottery today and ensure his evolution into the blue-blooded southern tea-drinkers that plague the south. They would never lower themselves again to the activities of the lesser people.

Not the Doc. He involved himself with the work all day and didn't wimp out when it got too messy. That ranks among one of the damn coolest things I have ever seen. I think I learned a valuable lesson today, but I don't know what it is. Things like this happening in this day and age are rarer than golden truffles, and bring a valued experience to think back on.

As for me, I'm glad to be back in the “real” work force. I have a creative mind and spirit and can take it real far, but I'd much rather feel the satisfaction of bunking down for the night after a hard day's work. Working the construction circuit in Nashville ingrained in me the inability to be lazy for long.

-Riiya-Chan

Raider3 Note: Thanks for the good read, Riiya... The corrections to your section of the Friends Online page will be phased in on the next revision... Keep on keepin' on ^_^