Covid Thoughts

A new normal? Anything but. 

This pandemic has damaged so many. It has caused death and loss, especially ravaged the elderly and the nursing homes. It has prevented our traditional grieving traditions like funerals, disrupted our celebrations like graduations, destroyed our economies. It has illuminated the disgusting dysfunction of our politicians, media and scientific communities. It is all too much. 

I miss human contact. Meeting new people and shaking their hands. Seeing my family and hugging our grandson. Kissing. I miss seeing peoples smiles behind their multicolored masks.

We have been living on the surface of a bubble that has burst. There will be so many changes going forward. And that is what we must do. Pick ourselves up, cry for that which is lost, rebuild our businesses and our lives. And learn. We can now clearly see the "heroes" among us. Let's never forget.

A vaccine will be developed. This virus will be subdued. But there will be others. We must, this time, get ready, for our kids and grandkids, for future generations around the globe. We can do no less. We must do better. We must earn our place on this planet.

A new abnormal.

Working

Retirement at 57. I had worked hard, saved and invested. I was lucky. We had "enough". So we downsized, sold the house and hit the road to discover what was in store for the rest of our lives.

Sure, we had ideas about what we wanted to do. Travel, leisure, philanthropic activities, visiting friends and family, golf, fishing. And that is what we did for a couple years. But I felt a nagging uneasiness. A sour unhappiness. Something was missing. 

I began to pay attention to my moods and realized I was happiest when I was working at something. It didn't matter what; yard work, running errands, car maintenance, busywork. Any work. I felt better.

Studs Terkel wrote a "grand and splendid" book about the noble aspects of work in his 1972 best seller "Working". It's a book where people talk about what they do all day and, most importantly, how they feel about what they do. 

My father was my example. His workaholism infected me at an early age. Our lives revolved around his obsession for his work and it was understood, though rarely expressed, that his work was primary. I have a vivid early memory of my mother explaining to me on one of those rare occasions " Your fathers job comes first, before family, before everything." Of course it did. It was the source of our familial security, the foundation of our collective pride, the bedrock of our self respect. I watched and listened and learned. There was no greater compliment than for someone to say you were a good worker.

My work life began when I was 10. Instead of spending the summer playing ball at the playground, I would peddle my bicycle to a local farm and pick beet greens for $.35 an hour in the blazing sun. During the school year, I worked a paper route. I mowed lawns, shoveled snow, swept parking lots, painted for a couple motels, washed mugs at the A&W Rootbeer Drive-In. During high school, I was a dishwasher, a busboy and eventually a soda jerk/cashier at Howard Johnsons. I remember the feeling of pride when I would announce to my family that I had to "go to work". I wasn't good at sports or music or school. But, damn, I was a "good worker".

In college, I worked construction on the waterfront piers and oil tank farm where my dad was superintendent. I traveled the state gathering data for the first Ambient Air Pollution Survey in Maine. I painted oil tanks, carried sheetrock, cleaned up oil spills and built pole barns. I constructed manholes, drove dump truck and manhandled a jackhammer for the Maine DOT as a Bridgeman 1.

My first big job after college was as an Environmental Technician for the Maine Department of Environmental Protection traveling the state inspecting wastewater treatment plants. After a year, I quit and traveled to Alaska where I worked instructing in a health club before hiring out as an Environmental Engineer for Bechtel on the Alaskan Oil Pipeline.

After returning from Alaska I loaded and drove beer delivery truck before hiring on as the superintendent of the Bar Harbor Wastewater Treatment District. I quit to become a high school science teacher in Waterville for 2 years. During the summers I worked building condos.

A budget cut and a wife pregnant with twins led me to Madison Paper Industries. I began as an Environmental Engineer and progressed to Process Engineer, Technical Engineer, Pulp Mill Supervisor, Assistant to the President of Sales, and Human Resource Director. In 2000 I left to become a consultant for a year before becoming Vice President of the Maine Economic Research Institute in Augusta where I stayed until July 2007... when I retired.

In retirement I have worked shoveling lobster bait on the docks, driving trucks, installing signs, working golf tournaments, yardwork, construction, retail, limo driving, furniture and finished carpentry, odd jobs, handyman...anything and everything. And it's has been a blast. 

Studs was right. "I think most of us are looking for a calling, not a job...". For me the hard learned secret is to not overstay, to move on to new interests and passions and to be brave enough, confident enough to push forward and not fester in an unhappy position.

Easier said than done especially when providing for a family. But so worth the effort and uncertainty.

Russ

remembering Russ.