Clutch Maker to the Nation

Wow, I didn't realize it had almost been a month since I last posted. I want to thank those who posted previously, especially those who have never posted before. It is always good to know that your audience is larger than you think, which I believe now stands to be roughly 27 people.

My feelings towards work have changed a little, or maybe now I'm just too tired to exhausted to think about it at the end of the day. I remembered a Green Day song the other day at work, the one entitled "Welcome to Paradise", it kind of sums up my feelings towards work at this point, especially if you substitute the word "home" with "job" in the excerpt, which I will do for you.

It makes me wonder why I'm still here
For some strange reason it's now
Feeling like my "job"
And I'm never gonna go
Pay attention to the cracked streets and the broken homes
Some call them slums some call it nice
I want to take you through a wasteland I like to call my "job"
Welcome to Paradise

In the song, the protagonist moves to a new city, which is not his ideal place to live. At first he is nervous and unsure of his decision to have left home, but through a period of time, he comes to accept the new city as home, even though others, and maybe even himself, have such a negative view of the place.


I removed some old boxes of junk from my parent's house about two or three weeks ago. In the boxes were old baseball cards, stuffed animals, souvenirs, knick-knacks, and what seemed like all of the notes, tests, quizzes, worksheets, and handouts for every class I took dating back to my sophomore year in high school. I sorted through each individual sheet to look over things I had written in papers and on tests, pictures I had drawn in the margins of notes, and things I had learned about over a period of nine years. I came across a poem from my 11th grade American Literary Studies class, Chicago by Carl Sandburg. It inspired me to keep going and working hard at my current job. The excerpt, which shows the last third of the poem, applies to me, especially if you substitute the phrase "clutch maker" for "freight handler".

Bareheaded,
Shoveling,
Wrecking,
Planning,
Building, breaking, rebuilding,
Under the smoke, dust all over his mouth, laughing with white teeth,
Under the terrible burden of destiny laughing as a young man laughs,
Laughing even as an ignorant fighter laughs who has never lost a battle,
Bragging and laughing that under his wrist is the pulse, and under his ribs the heart of the people,
Laughing!
Laughing the stormy, husky, brawling laughter of Youth, half-naked, sweating proud to be Hog Butcher, Toolmaker, Stacker of Wheat, Player with Railroads and "clutch maker" to the Nation

That's about it for today. I have some topics to write about, but maybe not the motivation to sit down and write them.