Dia de la Meat

Ahhh Labor day. There's a Holiday for my Dad. Let's celebrate Labor! Labor is the only measure of a man...and it always wins. That's unfortunate because it trumps my charming potbellied smarmy je ne sais quoi. Labor.....always.....wins. The whole turtle and the hare thing. Brains and talent really really mean nothing. The sheer bruteforce strength of labor can overcome every obstacle. Not too bright? Here's a trick...memorize the entire book! You don't have to be too bright to memorize something.

What exactly is Labor Day anyway?

From the department of labor

The first official Labor Day Celebration was comprised of...a street parade to exhibit to the public "the strength and esprit de corps of the trade and labor organizations" of the community, followed by a festival for the recreation and amusement of the workers and their families.

Now that sounds good...a holiday celebrating the working man. I have immigrant workers guilt...I don't work as hard as my father before me. Simple fact. Yet isn't that the whole point of being a Father...you hope that your kids have an easier life than you did? Well....maybe not. Anything remarkable achievement involves a difficult course. So I guess that means that struggle ain't that bad. My life often seems to lack that struggle so I add arbitrary difficulty to my day to balance the guilt that I feel for having a charmed life. Some days I worry that if our happiness in life is meted only to average out over the course of our lives, then somewhere up around the bend I will come face to face with a really really really bad day. Like an ooops I wiped out Uganda kind of day. Well I guess until that day comes, I better load up on double fistfuls of happiness...

If Heaven were a weekend, I already know its agenda.

1) wake up with family
2) drink buckets of black black black coffee with wife
3) start a fire
4) cook meat
5) eat meat with family and friends.

Mix in some drinking of beer and building of some stuff throughout the day. Perfectamundo.



Over Labor Day weekend I did this not once, but twice, groundhog day style. Two days, twelve racks of ribs, 10 hours on the new smoker. Lotsobeer. And somehow a new potting bench was also built for the wife. Here's to them working Dads.