the courageous garbage man and the miserable accountant
The tail of my jacket waves in the wind. I feel fresh.
The other day, a boy who is the same age as me, said that his parents forced him to study Engineering in university when he had really wanted to study History and Anthropology.
“They say you can’t make money by studying subjects like that,” he said.
“But do you regret you didn’t study Anthropology?” I asked.
“A little. I just want to retire when I’m forty,” he said. (Assuming he now has, with his spiffy Engineering degree, a full-time job that pays him fortunes.)
“What are you going to do after you retire?”
“I’m going to China to explore its history and do all the things I really wanted to do.”
“Okay.” (confused and thrown off).
One time in my late teenage years, I got into a heated argument with some middle-age family friends over the fact that I wanted to study Linguistics in university. This auntie told me to study Business and Commerce and make money and then when I retire I can use the time to do what I really want.
My response to her advice was: Fuck that.
Today, my response to this work-like-a-dog-and-then-retire-and-do-what-you-want-to-do attitude is: Fuck that.
I want to do what I want to do now. Maybe there’s something I’m missing. If so, I’m ready and willing to pay the price for it. I already know what the price is and I’m willing to pay it if it means living a meaningful life. I know I won’t be driving nice cars. I know I won’t be living in a big house. I don’t even know if I can even buy a house. I’ll probably marry later than my friends (if I even marry at all) and my kids will not have spiffy toys. But I’m willing to pay this price because I need to live life. I’d rather die than force myself to do something I don’t want to do for the sake of money.
It is when I say that last sentence, I think of the garbage man. Yes, on the bus today, while sitting there trying to see through the windows that were covered with gray slushy stains, I thought of the garbage man. The ‘garbage man’ in its generic definition. The garbage man who picks up garbage for money. Does he enjoy his job? No. But he has to do it because he probably has a family to take care of and garbage picking happens to be the job that’s available for him to earn some income. He doesn’t like to pick up garbage but he has to do it. I respect him a lot.
Then there’s always the Chinese mother who sees this garbage man and says to her child, “You see, son, this is why you need to study hard in school. If you don’t study hard, you’re going to be like him.” When the child hears that, he begins to think that all garbage men must have been lazy in school and that they deserve their miserable jobs because they have been lazy. It is proven that such children are more likely to become accountants and live miserable lives. Such misinformation. If the child grows up to disrespect the mother, the mother deserves it.
The other day, a boy who is the same age as me, said that his parents forced him to study Engineering in university when he had really wanted to study History and Anthropology.
“They say you can’t make money by studying subjects like that,” he said.
“But do you regret you didn’t study Anthropology?” I asked.
“A little. I just want to retire when I’m forty,” he said. (Assuming he now has, with his spiffy Engineering degree, a full-time job that pays him fortunes.)
“What are you going to do after you retire?”
“I’m going to China to explore its history and do all the things I really wanted to do.”
“Okay.” (confused and thrown off).
One time in my late teenage years, I got into a heated argument with some middle-age family friends over the fact that I wanted to study Linguistics in university. This auntie told me to study Business and Commerce and make money and then when I retire I can use the time to do what I really want.
My response to her advice was: Fuck that.
Today, my response to this work-like-a-dog-and-then-retire-and-do-what-you-want-to-do attitude is: Fuck that.
I want to do what I want to do now. Maybe there’s something I’m missing. If so, I’m ready and willing to pay the price for it. I already know what the price is and I’m willing to pay it if it means living a meaningful life. I know I won’t be driving nice cars. I know I won’t be living in a big house. I don’t even know if I can even buy a house. I’ll probably marry later than my friends (if I even marry at all) and my kids will not have spiffy toys. But I’m willing to pay this price because I need to live life. I’d rather die than force myself to do something I don’t want to do for the sake of money.
It is when I say that last sentence, I think of the garbage man. Yes, on the bus today, while sitting there trying to see through the windows that were covered with gray slushy stains, I thought of the garbage man. The ‘garbage man’ in its generic definition. The garbage man who picks up garbage for money. Does he enjoy his job? No. But he has to do it because he probably has a family to take care of and garbage picking happens to be the job that’s available for him to earn some income. He doesn’t like to pick up garbage but he has to do it. I respect him a lot.
Then there’s always the Chinese mother who sees this garbage man and says to her child, “You see, son, this is why you need to study hard in school. If you don’t study hard, you’re going to be like him.” When the child hears that, he begins to think that all garbage men must have been lazy in school and that they deserve their miserable jobs because they have been lazy. It is proven that such children are more likely to become accountants and live miserable lives. Such misinformation. If the child grows up to disrespect the mother, the mother deserves it.
posted by Adam C at
1:29 AM
1 Comments:
I dig your blog especially this piece in particular. It made me think of a book you might want to read if you have some spare time and an open mind, (which you probably do) It is called Atlas shrugged by ayn rand. If you want check out my site, i am still new to the blog scene so its not that great, yet.
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K, at 2:24 AM
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