We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
Creative destruction, the economists call it. In an unfettered free market, livelihoods are always in jeopardy from the possibility that other demands or desires might supersede your desire to continue in your job for your entire life. I had a rough and tumble job for a long time: logging. It was hard work, sometimes dangerous, but I liked being out in nature, in the company of those like myself. And I wasn't a Johnny-come-lately to logging. I am the last in a long line of loggers in my family.
But technology, and the desire of many people who are concerned about the environmental impacts of my trade, keep such as I from working at the only thing I've ever known. The world has moved on, and I must accept that.
It's not that bad really. I could have fussed and protested. Some of my former workmates still go out and log illegally; partly for their daily bread, but mostly I suspect because it is ingrained in their very being. I've moved on. I submit to the will of the greatest amount of people, who use as their instrument the hidden hand of the market to signal me to do something different now. Please do not judge my efforts too harshly; though it's unlikely I'll ever get much better, I try as hard as I can in my new chosen profession.