Neanderpundit

I’m working in a small town in deep south, and while work is work, I’ve had the great pleasure of working with a man I admire a great deal.

His name is John. He’s a farmer by tradition, a mechanic by proclivity, and an engineer by trade. he has almost no formal education. He reminds me a lot of me, if I was skinny and had hair.

Otherwise, though, he can drive heavy equipment. He can rewire a house-or a robot. He can reload his own ammo and kill a deer with it, and slaughter the deer and freeze it, and cook it so good your tongue half slaps your brains out trying to get at it.

He’s got a little girl- he misses her when he’s away, and calls every night. He works a lot of hours at the plant then goes home to play with his kid and then works on his father’s farm. As often as not, he falls asleep in his recliner with his daughter sleeping on his chest.

He loves to hunt and shoot. He has been able to do anything he’s called on to do, and he is surrounded by fairly capable people who tend not to do anything without his direction. He’s a reluctant leader, preferring the comfort of his home and family to anything. He is humble, not argumentative, and naturally industrious.

Give me ten men like him, and I can build anything. Give me a thousand, and I could take this country back from the morons.

“daddy, why don’t they make pretty purses for men?”
“Men don’t carry purses, honey”
“you carry a purse”
“What? No, that’s a computer bag.”
“you carry your stuff in it, right?”
“right. I carry my computer back and forth to work”
“And you have your keys, wallet, other stuff there”
“yep.”
“Purse”
“….”

“So why don’t they make pretty purses for men?”
“…..”

Mike G, sometime commentor and shooter in postal matches has started his own blog. Stick your nose in and see where he takes it.