Take Pride In Your Work?
Thought up:  4.17.02 – 1:43pm
Written: 4.19.02 – 1:27am
#3

In the summer of ’99, I worked 8 hours a day installing sprinklers in Montana.  I worked through rain, sleet, snow (Snow?  In summer?  Yup, after all, it is Montana) and even blistering heat to give people the pleasure of not having to put out one of those nasty green hoses attached to a rusty old yellow sprinkler head that spits out four drops of water in random directions (one of which is always the sidewalk no matter where you set the sprinkler).  Anyway, I did them a favor by digging/picking through granite on mountainsides, and clay in the valleys to give them green beauty.

I took pride in what I did - I made sure each and every sprinkler head (usually the 1804-F series, 4″ pop-up sprinklers by Rain-bird, for those of you keeping track at home) made a complete 360 degree turn in most yards, and just cutting off a few degrees for those tricky devils in the corners.  It made me feel really good when I’d get done with a job and look it over to see that the entire property would be getting healthy and watered because of me.

ne time I started the watering and didn’t notice that the old lady, whom I was building the system for, was coming out to bring me a frosty lemonade for my hard work and dedication to her yard.  Well, before I knew it, water was blanketing her backyard with a beautiful mist, and she was the tallest piece of grass…  She dropped the lemonade and ran into the house afraid that she set off the sprinklers.  I went in and apologized and had myself a fresh glass of lemonade, but that’s beside the point, this story is about taking pride in one’s work.

What I’m getting at is whenever I finish a job, I’d look back and say, “Boy, that sure is a nice looking yard.  I’m glad I did such a nice job for them, I bet they’re happy.”  But not out loud, of course, especially if I’m the only one around, because that would make me look like I’ve gone mad.  In my current job, I drive all over the state by myself and I have a lot of time to think about stuff.  I look at other things and wonder if people are really happy with what they’ve accomplished - the buildings, the fence posts, the road I’m driving on, the car ahead of me.  I think about the craftsmanship that went into each detail of this car - the windshield, the blinkers, the engine itself.  Then I look at the license plate, and I think to myself, “Man, I wonder if that prison guy really cares that he made this car licensed to drive on the road.  Without him, this car would have to be impounded, and the driver would have to go to jail probably.  Or maybe the driver would just get a different license plate.”

got to thinking again about my sprinkler job, and how I took pride in it, but there is a good chance that the jailbird would never get to see his work, let alone spray an old lady with water and get free lemonade.  He should be lucky to get an extra carton of smokes I decided…