Evans’ Rag
Vol 3 Issue 24
The Rape of the Sabine Women by Giambologna at the Loggia dei Lanzi—photo by William E. Evans, ©2019
Fortunes of Labor
We have a small crew cleaning and resealing the exterior wood on our house. I did the last sanding and staining of the wood handrails a couple years ago. The sanding and prep work isn’t enjoyable in the summer, and I’m quite happy to pay someone else.
It’s not that I hate work, nor that I consider myself more important than people who work with their hands, though it is true I labored all those years in college and grad school at least in part to avoid spending my life doing manual labor.
I wonder, sitting at my computer looking out at the lake, how the two men might wonder about my fortunate life. Is it easier, being not too physical? Is their manual labor easier, because it doesn’t challenge them? Or do their minds wander, with only a secondary thought for the work, wishing they were doing something society values more highly?
When we talk, I’m reminded we have more in common than not. And I know full well, if they refused to do the work, it would fall back on me, so I appreciate the effort. In this regard, writing is a luxury born of sufficient fortune and time.