The Tomko Files #2 - Life Lessons on a Clay Court

Question: What would Jesus do?
Answer: Jesus would not hit a union labourer in the face with a shovel!

Sometimes reality hits you at the most random of places. Today was day two at Van Lawn, and my muscles are screaming. But, we have accomplished a lot these past few days, which feels good.

There are certain individuals on this site who sit around and do nothing all day long, which pisses me off. They aren't Tomko employees (all the Tomko employees have been working their asses off under the direction of a great foreman). I don't understand how these people can keep their jobs, and it's so hard to stay motivated to work hard when other people are getting paid--double what I make--to dick around. They sit on benches and watch me and Megs shovel gravel and then make comments like, "oh, better not shovel too much, or you'll get man arms." Yah dudes, YOU don't have to worry about getting man arms. Dinks.

Example - For over an hour, one of them sat in a wheelbarrow smoking and drinking coffee. I kid you not. Meghan and I powered through that section nonstop just so that he wouldn't be in our line of vision.

So I was shoveling away, sweating and getting sunburnt, swearing to myself and thinking about the injustice of it all. Why is it that I'm busting my ass to pay for university and get an education when some idiot is getting more than me to stand around and smoke cigarettes and stare at me inappropriately? Is my human capital not worth as much as his? And then in that moment I realized that there are people all over the world who toil like this not for a week, but for months, years even, for hardly any pay. To support themselves, to provide food for brothers and sisters after parents have succumbed to AIDS living their entire lives in absolute poverty... THAT is where the injustice lies. And as I come home to my MacBook Pro, take a warm shower to wash away the dirt of the day, pack clothes for my European vacation, and register for next semester's classes, I know that I can't fully understand what that's like. Walking an inch in those shoes is hard enough, humbling enough.

I feel a bit like an ass now, but I figure it's good to be put in my place now and again. Accountability tends to sneak up on you when you think you've got the righteous act down pat.

What the hell do I know about injustice?