The Joy Of Working With One’s Hands: Report From 20 Paws Ranch
One of the best decisions that I ever made was to take a deep breath after 10 years in the newspaper business, some of it spent covering big stories in exotic locales, and ponder my future. The upshot was that I quit the business to learn something that I had long yearned to do — be a carpenter.
I ended up apprenticing to a fine carpenter and over the next two years learned how to build houses (and some rather pricey ones at that) from the foundations up, including doing hand-cut cedar shake shingle roofs, interior trim and other finish work, installing skylights so that they never would leak, and some of the other more complex aspects of the nail-bending trade.
More or less contemporaneous with my second career was the decision to move to a farm where I pitched in with the milking, planting, harvesting and other chores.
While I had felt out of balance, I did not realize how cattywampus my chi (Chinese for life force) was until I had spent a few months away from rush-hour traffic, fluorescent lights, typewriters and the occasional word-processor screen. (Widespread use of computers was a few years off and the Internet well over the horizon.)
The housing market collapsed in the first months of the Reagan presidency and I went back to the newspaper business for good, but never again did I feel as out of balance as I had. This is because I made sure that I leavened my day-job loaf with hiking, gardening, cutting wood and swimming — lots of swimming. The joys of working with my hands was a wonderful lesson that was easy to learn and impossible to forget.
If there was a downside, it is that when I would come home from an especially exhausting day of handwork I seldom felt like doing anything other than eating, drinking and screwing. But I eventually learned to balance those primal urges and resumed book reading and writing in a journal.
I left the newspaper business six weeks before the 9/11 attacks and got a cushy job in a rare book library at a university and then re-retired for good at the end of March, enabling me to work with my hands as I had not for nearly 30 years. This includes gardening, building stuff, refinishing furniture and cooking. On a typical day I am outdoors more than indoors and in some respects I have never felt better. My blood pressure is the lowest that it has been in many years, I’ve lost weight because I no longer eat takeout food, and walking two 100-pound dogs helps keep me trim.
Hey, if you’ve spent your life sitting on your keister, it’s never too late to trade in your executive desk chair or Barcalounger for dirty fingernails even if it’s only some of the time.
Ranch,” which is the name of his mountain hideaway, appears on Mondays.
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Thanks Shaun you point is a valid one… There is value above and beyond a paycheck when you learn to work with your hands.
I was lucky enough to have a ‘real-life’ job that gave me time to do ‘fixer-uppers’… To be able to work with my hands.
Though at times I too felt like doing nothing more than “eating, drinking and screwing” the values I and my family learned ‘working’ made us who we are.
This holds true even in old age… I still play with hammer’s and club’s, my hammer pays my greens fee.
Some people are better suited to work as tradesmen and not go to college. Is it better to be an artisan plumber than an unhappy accountant?
Rudi, I don’t think these things are mutually exclusive… They weren’t in my case and I don’t think they were in Shaun’s either.
There’s a real joy in being able to make something with your hands and this joy, IMO, makes you more not less.
I was lucky, my ‘day job’ was a real pleasure too.
Didn’t address the two of you. I point out that pundits are pushing this BS. Everyone doesn’t need an Ivy League education. A good trade school or CC should be good enough for most. We all aren’t as connected as a Tucker Carlson, Luke Russert or Chelsea Clinton…