Education and Experience

So there I was, standing in a three-foot deep pit in a steady rain shoveling muddy sand while someone in a mini-backhoe worked on the other side of the pit shaping out that side. In spite of my rain gear I was soaked, and my muscles were rebelling at repeatedly lifting shovels-ful of wet dirt up to shoulder level and trying to throw it onto a growing pile.

It occurred to me that I was living a college recruitment pitch: if you don’t like digging ditches in the rain, get an education!

But then I thought of the other gentleman running the backhoe. He was in a covered cab, and was letting the machine do the heavy lifting. The machine was rented, so why was he the one driving it? Experience. He had practiced with a backhoe. He may even have had some training. He knew how to make the numerous levers and pedals work together fluidly to make the machine work efficiently. I probably could have done it, but my neighbor was paying by the hour for use of the machine. Where his money was concerned, the best place for his experienced friend was in that backhoe while we were most efficient with shovels doing the work the backhoe couldn’t.

Considering just how much dirt the man with the backhoe was moving, compared to how much both my neighbor and I were moving with our shovels, it’s no wonder the backhoe operator makes more than the ditch-digger with a shovel. The two of us could have worked all weekend–and several more days into this week, probably–to move the same amount of dirt with our shovels and wheelbarrows. On the other hand, there did come a point when the backhoe wasn’t useful any further. The pit we were digging is meant to house a trampoline, and needs to be level. It would also be aesthetically pleasing if the edge of the pit weren’t jagged. That sort of work can really only be accomplished by guys with shovels and mattocks. Everyone has their place.

But in the end I have to admit that it felt good to get out and work, even if it was in the rain. As a guy who gets paid to use his brain (or at least his fingers) all day, to get out there and exercise those large motor muscles can be quite satisfying. My body is not showing its appreciation properly, of course, but if I’ve got to be stiff and sore, it’s nice to at least have a good reason for it.

At the end of the day I’m still grateful for my desk job, but it’s good to be reminded how good it can feel to put in some good, hard work. I’m glad I’m not digging ditches for a living–not that there’s anything wrong with the job, it’s my ability to do it. I’m 5’7″, weighing 135 pounds. When you have a job requiring mass and muscle you want a guy who has those things. As a ditch digger I’d either have to bulk up fast or I’d probably starve. When even half a wheelbarrow load of wet sand can make me stumble around like a drunk, it’s clear I have my limitations. I’m glad I have a job that allows me to use my brain instead of my braun, or natural selection would have deselected me years ago.