Chapter 6 - Telegraph Days
Plate 2 - Somethin Hyphen Somethin Else
I hate work. Dont get
me wrong, Im no bum. I hustle. I just never had a normal job.
Well, I worked for ARCO once.
I lasted a week. I couldnt stop laughing during one of their employee
I dont know how people
do it work at jobs they hate. The same job. The same office. For
years. My Father did it, as did his Father before him. My Grandfather
worked himself to death in the oil fields so that my Father could work
overtime as an engineer so that I could go to Art
I hope I dont sound
too sarcastic. I feel very lucky in not having to do something stupid
for a living. I am lucky we are lucky; born in
the right place at the right time. We dont have to grub around for
roots and berries or chase barefoot after chickens or toil in sweaty factories.
We were born members of the
richest generation the world has ever known, Children of the Later American
Empire. Even the meanest of us can afford ourselves luxury unheard in
other parts of the world. And then there's us. The artists. The dreamers.
The Republic provides us the luxury of the hyphenated lifestyle; no mere
workers, we are salesman-artist, plumber-songwriter, waitress-actress,
Something Hyphen Something Else. - Next