I tell my journalism students to mine their lives for story ideas because it is impossible to live a life free from something worth writing. Sometimes we look too close and miss the obvious. That happened for me while looking for a specific steelhead photo on my phone.
As I was scrolling, I saw the progress made on the house my wife and I are building then laughed at just how silly that statement is. “We’re building.” No we aren’t. We are paying people to build it for us. We might be more involved with design, day-to-day decision-making and have helped with parts of the process, but we aren’t building it.
The last 12 months have been incredibly educational in the realm of the trades. My grandpa was a welder after World War II, my other grandpa made oak furniture and one grandma worked for Beech Aircraft building airplanes during the war. So I was raised to appreciate and value trades workers every bit as much as people who wear ties to work.
As a society we disproportionately appreciate athletes and entertainers who have mastered their craft. Like them or not, Steph Curry can shoot, Kevin Hart can make jokes, Leonardo DiCaprio can act, Mariah Carey can sing. But did you see my guy laying D-1 before starting on the foundation? He maneuvered the Bobcat front end loader in ways that didn’t even make sense. It was impressive. Patrick Mahomes can make some impressive throws but that doesn’t help me, A) because I am a Broncos fan — thanks a lot Seattle — and B) because he brings no personal value to my life.
When our house became a shell, an electrician wired it in two days. That’s also an indication of the size of our build, but still. When the house is done, I’ll be able to watch Mahomes and any other NFL or SEC football team beat my Broncos. Or I can choose instead to run back through Ted Lasso on Apple+. Comfort provided by the engine of our civilization — the builders and creators.
This isn’t a condescending bone thrown to people who don’t have an advanced college degree or a clean pair of Carhartts. This is yet another reminder that life does not exist as we’d like it to if it weren’t for the people who know all the stuff we don’t. Who wire our homes with electricity and fiber so we can be brave on the internet, who install the heat pump so we can be nice and cozy while doing so.
Magic does not make the power come back on in the middle of the night. If the electrical fate of my part of town was dependent on me climbing a power pole to fix a transformer when it’s 9 degrees and windy, I’d bravely stand and say, “Anyone have extra blankets?”
There are days at school in which it seems like the clock just…won’t…move…but how slow is that trip from Seattle pulling a barge filled with food and Lund’s building materials?
Sure, I could have attempted to do a lot of the building myself but the bank didn’t loan us money to build a fort. I can build a shed, service the lower unit in an outboard, stuff insulation, paint trim, unload containers, stuff like that. I’m not using YouTube to perform leak tests on gas connections, so I am glad there are competent people out there who can, as easily as Russell Wilson throws incomplete passes.
Of course, I couldn’t do his job any better either.
• Jeff Lund is a freelance writer based in Ketchikan. His book, “A Miserable Paradise: Life in Southeast Alaska,” is available in local bookstores and at Amazon.com. “I Went to the Woods” appears twice per month in the Sports & Outdoors section of the Juneau Empire.
