Once again on reading my “screwing the pooch” post of December 12th I am impressed by my lack of charity, maybe even willing to characterize it as “merciless”, in my assessment and evaluation of the lives of my fellow travelers in the swamp of daily life.
The line in question is “These gubmint union “workers” were/are the legions of three hour a day, never laid off, gang members, splashing around in the tax pool, who rarely face real work, or deadly danger, in their entire lives, and the biggest stressor they face was/is being late for coffee break.”
It just seems at second look, that I have a lotta damned nerve “judging” folks about what they may or may not find stressful. I think this was/is me just “showin’ away”. I read somewhere that probably 95% of the population are harmless gentle productive souls who wouldn’t hurt a fly, and all the predators and the wolfhounds make up the other 5%. The 95% have a lot of trouble telling the difference between the predators and the wolfhounds.
For most people they – the predator and the wolfhound – both look alike and outside of an actual conflict there is no way to tell them apart except when they are in action. Some folks are simply built and wired different than the 95%. They are “called” to be a “wolfhound”. God has gifted them with more aggression, more physical abilities, and no reluctance to deal out damage and violence as required.
The wolfhound’s natural inclination is “fight”, instead of the normal “flight”. We volunteer for shit to which any sane person would say “Seriously! Are you nuts!” I think it is in the genes. Most folks are busy getting as far as possible from danger but the hounds are moving towards the guns and the fire.
I thought my old man was nuts to jump out of perfectly good airplanes and blow shit up while other violent nut-jobs were trying to kill him and his mates. He thought I was nuts to spend over 300 days a year a 1000 miles from harbour steaming around in a little tin can which had “target” written all over it and no where to hide on the whole bald ocean. My grand-dad thought we were both nuts ’cause he preferred to be underground as an army sapper handling communications.
I guess it takes all kinds but I know for sure we were not representative of the general population and the job was addictive. Civvie-street has been a boring old walk except for the ten years I spend working in prisons.
So the upshot of this is that I guess I owe the 95% an apology because I have no way in God’s green earth of understanding what “stress” looks like to other folks and no right to be judging them. We all are given a different tool kit by the creator and it is how we use it and how we fulfill our state in life and our duties that matters.
Well, time for a little hot tub now that it is -20