Conor,
My dad, through his years, took on several apprentices in the pipe fitting trade so he was always "teaching" to some degree on the job. Thankfully that trait continued when he would work with me. But the teaching was different. With an apprentice he was teaching the skills necessary to be a journeyman pipefitter. With me I think dad was teaching life lessons. He used to say, "you can use your brain or your back. One is a hell of a lot easier than the other." But you also need to understand, a lot of the time we were building the family houses (
from 1987 to 1992 dad built or restored three homes. The old man constantly needed something to stay occupied so once we would complete one house he would start cooking up reasons why we needed to build another) so he recognized that I needed to know what the hell I was doing or he was going to have to come back and fix it. I remember a time when I was just going through and attaching cover plates to all of the receptacles. I noticed the old man staring over my shoulder and said, "a Union man would make sure the screw slots were perfectly north/south" and then walked away. He left it to me to decide if it was worth going back through and adjusting every screw in the house. It was if for no other reason than to make sure he knew I took the lesson to heart.
In a nutshell, he taught me the basics and pride in a job well done. He then left it to me to decide what to do with it.
Yes, I finished college with plans of continuing on in education. I was History and Political Science. Life intervenes in these decisions and I found myself heading down another path. In college I worked in a cabinet shop in the summers and realized it was miserable, mind-numbing, tedious, unrewarding work. But it also taught me more of what I wanted to know. I also worked for an antique auctioneer all through college and learned to respect the unbelievable craftsmanship that went into making a truly usable piece of art. What was so amazing about many of those pieces of furniture is that it would have NEVER occurred to the builder that the piece he was working on would someday be worth thousands of dollars. It was function. It was something that served a purpose. You have sugar and you need a place to store that sugar. Or, you have to sleep somewhere at night so you need a bed. The time spent on beautiful joints that no one would ever see is absolutely humbling. I really can't stress this enough. This craftsman would spend countless hours making a joint abso-fucking-lutely perfect, knowing all the while that he would be the only person that would likely ever see it let alone respect the effort it took. The engineering in a Windsor chair for example. The greater the weight on the chair the stronger the joints get.
Quite frankly, that is a trait that all of us can apply in our every day lives. Take pride in the work itself. The other shit will take care of itself.
Sorry if I am being hyperbolic or sappy but you asked.
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