Man Of Steel?

This morning, I had an interview for a Apprentice Welder/Metal Worker job with a local manufacturer of cranes, hoists, and monorails.

And it went pretty well.

First I interviewed with the chief engineer in the place, a man with a highly improbably porn star sounding name. It wasn't Dirk Digler, but it might has well have been. So we'll just call him Dirk Digler. I've gotta tell ya, interviewing for a blue collar job is sooooo refreshing in the wake of interviewing for white collar jobs. It's not a pissing match. It's not massaging sensitive egos. (That I don't even get called to come in for an interview for a development job when in my brief six months at the Previous Place of emPloyment I raised $ 400,000 no doubt has a hell of a lot to do with the fact that my title was "Executive Director," thus it's saying a lot more about them than me, n'est-ce pas?) For a blue collar job, it's more or less along the lines of: Are you a hard worker and you show up on time? Yup! And here's a list of people I've worked for who will tell you that I'm a hard worker and I show up on time! Great! When can you start?

Not that the Apprentice Welder/Metal Worker job with the local manufacturer of cranes, hoists, and monorails is totally in the bag. Somebody could walk in the door with more welding experience than me--let's keep in mind that I haven't held a welding torch in my leather gloved hand for three years--and the job will go to him instead of me. But I'm hopeful given that the ad in the paper specifically asked for an Apprentice Welder and Metal Worker. Welder's with experience already have well-paying welding jobs, so they're not interested. Theoretically, that makes my competition recent high school graduates, and they don't have that critical list of People You Can Call Who Will Tell You That I'm A Hard Worker And I Show Up On Time.

So on balance, it's looking good.

So besides the huge thrill of possibly no longer counting myself among the ranks of the unemployed (Amen, Brother!), I... I... I... Oh. My. God. I could be a welder! I could get trained and certified as a welder!

A few months from now, this could totally be me: Hi. I'm a welder.

Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

Let's read back in SingleTails to my posting on July 19th in the year 2003. What do we find there? "Perhaps I will long remember July 19th. That's the day that I collared a slave and started on my rewarding and fulfilling path as a welder."

Well, thanks to basanos flaking out on me, July 19th was not the day I collared a slave. But it could very well be the day that I "started on my rewarding and fulfilling path as a welder." After all, that's when it all came to me. Four years and twenty one days ago.

And reading over those posts from way back when is instructive. Once I learned how to weld, I thought, I could set up a welding shop at home. And in my welding shop at home, I would start making steel collars, shackles, cages, crosses and the like. And, I'd also turn my skills to high end designer furniture. (Who wouldn't want a dining room table made from diamond plate stainless steel? Okay. Maybe not you. But are you a fussy design fag living in one of the Richard Meier towers on West Street in Manhattan? I bet you're not. Uh... If you are, wanna date me?)

Oh.

When I was out in Palm Springs back in March, Alpha and I visited a guy who lived in a one of Donald Wexler's steel framed Alexander Houses. I mentioned to the guy that I knew how to weld and asked if a welder could find work doing design work in Palm Springs. The Alexander House dweller looked at me and said, "Probably more work than you could handle. There's no one in Palm Springs who does that. I've looked. I had to get someone to come out here from LA."

[!]

Okay okay okay.

Don't do this to yourself again, Kramer.

Calm down.

That time worn advice about "counting your chickens before they're hatched." Remember that? Heed it.

Still.

Being a welder would be way cool.

Oh. Although remind me of this a couple of months from now if I'm complaining on here about how I don't get paid enough money as a welder.

Or better yet, shoot me an email then and tell me that if I ever stop complaining and get off my sorry excuse for a butt and get a welding shop out in the garage, you might be in the market for a custom set of shackles.

Or a diamond plate stainless steel coffee table.