[lit-ideas] Re: Fleas
- From: "Lawrence Helm" <lawrencehelm@xxxxxxxxxxxxxx>
- To: <lit-ideas@xxxxxxxxxxxxx>
- Date: Sat, 3 Sep 2011 09:42:24 -0700
Mike,
You touched on some provocative matters . . .
If I recall correctly, we came from similar blue-collar backgrounds . . . so
why are we so different. We weren't always. Back when I was in college and
for several years after I went to work at Douglas Aircraft Company I was a
flaming liberal . . . well perhaps not flaming. I was after all working at
a job requiring a security clearance. I used to debate a member of the John
Birch Society. He left Russia as a child during the Revolution and thought
that fighting Communism was mandatory. During our last few debates (before
he was laid off) he was considering (he told me later) whether he should
turn me in to the Douglas Security authorities as a security risk but
concluded that I was just another harmless "dupe."
One reason for a difference is our religious backgrounds. You were raised a
Catholic which encourages the acceptance of Church authority. I was raised
a Protestant which encourages Bible Study as a way to "grow in grace." That
emphasis upon study originated with Luther and Calvin who used the Erasmus
NT text to check what the RC authorities had been saying. But the Reformers
went far beyond a mere corrective, they set in motion a process that could
not be kept within the boundaries they set for themselves. If every man is
"his own priest," then whatever he understands from Scripture may be as
valid as what that fellow up their preaching from the pulpit is saying.
There is still only one Roman Catholic Church, but the Protestants have been
dividing like amoebas ever since.
You, reacting against authority, "refuse to be an apparatchik of the
American version of Western European Capitalism." I on the other hand felt
the need to study. A turning point for me was when I read Marx's actual
complaints against "Western European Capitalism" and how WEC over the years
capitulated on virtually all of them. We have tolerable work weeks,
reasonable opportunities to gain and hold jobs, living wages, protection
against the more egregious Capitalistic crimes and excesses - not a perfect
match for all Marx's idealistic dreams to be sure, but if Marx were alive
today would he have bothered with a Communist Manifesto? I doubt it.
I was still enough of a Liberal to feel uncomfortable "climbing" into
management. I would have needed a completely different background to do
that. I was a sergeant in the Marine Corps and the equivalent of a sergeant
in Aerospace. Sergeants may have some people working for them from time to
time, but they are not officers. They are not management. They do the
work.
After I got back from Korea, I was stationed at 29 Palms during the summer!
It was there that I first began to wonder whether I wanted to stay in the
Marine Corps. I joined for a war, not to do ridiculous make-work things
during peace time; so, like a good Protestant (sort of) I went to the base
library and read Marcus Aurelius and Epictetus and learned that one needs to
view the world in terms of what one cannot change (such as the weather and
Capitalism) and what one can change (such as whether I wanted to stay in the
Marine Corps or get out and go to college).
I worked out of the Teamster's Hiring Hall as a "swamper" while I went to
college. I had the G.I. Bill, but it was pretty skimpy; so I arranged my
classes either Monday, Wednesday, and Friday (and worked loading and
unloading trucks Tuesday and Thursday) or took classes Tuesdays and Thursday
(and worked M,W,&F). I was working in those days with the American version
of "Workers of the World." I kept my Teamster membership current long after
I went to work at Douglas just in case things didn't work out there.
Maybe I too robbed my kids of educations at "Harvard or Yale or Princeton or
Stanford or MIT." I didn't find "engineering" that difficult but I had a
chip on my shoulder. How far would I go along with what "management"
wanted. I had one foot in Douglas and the other in a Master's program at
night thinking I would probably prefer teaching college. With such an
attitude, and starting out way down near the bottom because my degree was in
English and not Engineering, I was not making much money, albeit more after
a few years than some of the professors I still spoke to. But however much
it was, it wasn't enough for my spendthrift ex-wife who dearly wanted me to
climb the corporate ladder so she could outdo the Joneses. We never did
outdo them.
At some point I became an engineering dinosaur - I knew some things better
than anyone else which meant that my superiors needed me to get "the job"
done, and it also meant that they had to tolerate the chip on my shoulder. .
. . which meant that by contrast with you I worked long enough to get a
Boeing Pension and now live fairly comfortably in San Jacinto taking my dogs
for runs at the river and taking photographs; although I'll probably get
back to debating Liberals and Leftists once photography becomes boring.
So my current living is not "bare bones," but my son's is. He worked as an
electrician in the housing industry until the bubble burst and his wife at
age 40 ran off with an 18-year-old. My son salvaged enough for a trailer
and custody of his son. Now he works as a handyman and lives hand-to-mouth
just as you do. I have become one of his "clients," but he does good work
and has others. He was offered not so long ago a job as an electrician for
one of his formers bosses, but he wasn't being offered as much money as he
was making as a handyman. Also, he discovered that he loves being a
handyman. He regales me with tales of how some dolt of a home-owner was
about to do something really stupid and he rescued the situation to the
undying gratitude (but not all that much money) from the home owner. His
son (my grandson) works with him as well, but just until he graduates from
high school, after which he intends to join the Marine Corps.
I will be 77 years old next month and am not feeling "intimations of my
mortality." Or if I do I don't recognize them. I have no major health
issues that my doctor is aware of, and the minor ones (stiff neck, back &
headaches) are the same ones I've had since I was a teen-ager. However, it
is depressing to read a history and discover that most of the people I'm
reading about died before reaching my age. My son predicts that I will not
die from any disease but that I'll be run down by a truck late at night
while walking the dogs. As a consequence I've resolved to remember to look
both ways - as long as I can.
Lawrence
From: Mike Geary
Sent: Wednesday, August 31, 2011 7:49 PM
To: lit-ideas@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
Subject: [lit-ideas] Fleas
My cats have fleas by the millions. They cry to go outside, but I won't let
them because if I do, the fleas will feast on me. I'm selfish that way. My
ex once said I was selfish. That startled me. Lazy? yes. Unambitious?
you bet. Immature? of course. A drunk Irishman? comes with the territory.
A back-slider? No way, I've never attempted reform. I've suspected at
times that there are some things in life that should be taken seriously,
like maybe if someone is in very desperate straits you should take time to
listen to their story and commiserate, but if you too are having trouble
feeding yourself, well then, shouldn't he/she listen to your story as well
instead of just walking off? And you call me selfish? The down-and-out
are the most selfish people I've ever met. All they can think about is
getting something to eat or a quart of beer. I'd go with the beer if I were
them. But, of course, my culture requires me to preach: "Now don't spend
this quarter on beer or wine. Get something to eat. Something good for
you."
I'm not selfish, I tell you. I give to street people when I can. It's true
that I've always been a very poor provider -- in the world's eyes -- but
only because I've pursued the chimeras of my imagination rather than doing
the world's bidding. "You men only exit for two purposes," my ex would
shout. "To stir the gene pool and provide for the pool you've made."
Everyone must deal with the world on its terms. And one of its primary
terms is economics. And for us economics means: Money, money, money."
Nonsense. We create our world. I recognize the laws of physics, but that's
it. All else is our own reality, wrested from the gestalt of our
experiences. I refuse to be an apparatchik of the American version of
Western European Capitalism -- not because I put myself before all else, but
because I must wrest from my own experiences the reality of me. It's
because I am a world unto myself. I am life. I am what life is about. Is
it selfish to be yourself?
Yes, of course, all I know is the American version of Western European
Capitalism.
OK, then, yes, I am selfish. I cheated my children out of a Harvard or Yale
or Princeton or Stanford or MIT education just so I could enjoy my life.
And I apparently cheated my ex out of a happy, fulfilled life. Well, that's
the breaks.
OK, moving on.
Intimations of my mortality grow with every work day. My work is very
physical, very contortionistic, often very hot, sometimes very cold --
always very dirty. So how come I love it so much? I don't know. It's a
bare bones survival the way I work it. I have zero capital -- it's all cash
flow which means I'm racing to the bank every day to cover checks I'd
written the day before. Sometimes I don't make it. I must have spent a
thousand or more dollars this year in bounced check charges. Awful, awful.
But still I love it. It's me against the world. My son, the artist, works
with me now. We're still trying to work out the relationship : ) So yes,
I work at things I love that leave me in poverty because I'm so
business-wise stupid and that is selfish. I am selfish, goddamnit, and
proud of it.
Mike Geary
musing in Memphis
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