Guy I know had a really good run of decent luck.
Like me, he dropped out of high school and graduated into an economy of unionized factory jobs where a high school drop-out could make more money than the teachers in the high school we just dropped out of.
We thought that was the natural order of things.
But things changed.
Buddy was one of the guys who managed to hang on to a quality union factory job in the only factory that didn’t shutter and move to Mexico or China. That’s because it was the only factory in town with Japanese ownership, and apparently they have some crazy-ass management theory that puts long term objectives ahead of quarterly results.
So he enjoys a nice ride into the sunset, having spent forty years assembling giant Hitachi off-road trucks, and wouldn’t you know it, within six months of retirement he comes down with health issues.
Buddy had always been an avid fisherman. Them’s the guys who’d rather go fishing than go home. I used to think that’s because they had a shitty home life, but I’ve come to appreciate there’s folks who just seriously love fishing.
He was one of those.
He’s been fishing out of make-do boats all his life, because, after all, there are priorities. Mortgage, child support… all the usual stuff.
When he retires, he sells his house, takes an apartment, and splashes out 50 big ones for the fishing boat of his dreams. An 18 footer with a 135 Merc and a 15 hp kicker.
A week later he starts dialysis.
Now he’s got the boat of his dreams, and he’s so worn down by his health issues he doesn’t have the strength to launch the boat. Needs a fishing buddy bad.
Haven’t talked to him in thirty years, but maybe I’ll give him a call.
No comments:
Post a Comment