The View From Scranton

I'm No Chippee

The blisters, the cuts, the bruises, the abrasions, the burns, the burn lines, the strains, the sprains, the fatigue. It's not me. I'm not it. If I'm to be in the sun it'll be under an umbrella. If I'm to sweat myself silly it's gonna be for sheer pleasure. I'm a thinkin' man. My game is ideas. Words. Angles. Or at least I thought so.

Once again I guess I thought wrong.

I do know this: I'm not built to build buildings.

In Australia, my pal Brent says they're called chippees. Here in America we use a few less complimentary epithets beginning with redneck. Whatever you wanna call ‘em, call ‘em someone else. Not me. I'm no chippee. And I'm no red neck. Never was, never will be. Don't much wanna be either.

Worse, seems the little long hard time I've spent slogging on slogful construction sites has already caused me to lose an assignment. With Paste. Seems they need a wordslinger with time enough to pay attention to wordslinging, especially the details that make all the wordwork possible. I don't blame 'em. I can't. A professional organization requires professionals, not some mad ex-con fake-ass laborer masquerading as a professional. I wasn't on top of the publisher; the publisher (Wiley, thank you very much) didn't get me the book. In fact they never even responded to my request. Twice. Guess they got enough hype in their life.

Wonder if Joshua Greene, the scribbler whose book was set to be covered, feels the same way?

As if embatterment and hacklessness weren't enough, now I might be in trouble with the House. See the woman on whose home we were slogging yesterday put out a dynamite spread of fresh meats and cheeses for us stinking, sweaty slogs. Among the layout were rolls, big, fresh New York-style rolls. So ravenous was my appetite I didn't even notice that the rolls were liberally sprinkled with poppy seeds until the seeds were taking root in my stomach. We're not allowed to eat poppy seeds, of course, might make for a false positive. Or excuse away a true one.

So when I report to my counselor come Monday, I’ll be reporting my inadvertent transgression. I’ll also be requesting that I tender my resignation; looks like it's time for a new slog.

posted by John Hood. @ 6:00 PM