From today's Times and News-Star
The
ground holds secrets only plumbers know.
So
if you see a plumber today, shake his hand. Shake it! Go on. Shake that hand. True,
you don’t know where that hand has been. Probably been where few hands have
gone before. But we’re glad that hand had the guts and the knowledge and the
strength and sheer WILL to get it done.
I
am grateful for plumbers, and you should be too. Plumbers are The Man. Never have
I met one I didn’t like. They are like the rest of us, with nuances and peculiarities,
but they are always the ace in the deck when -- for lack of a better phrase –
the rubber meets the road.
This
rings true: plumbing in its all-encompassing magnitude is a bona fide
showstopper. It levels the playing field for both the prince and the pauper. If
your plumbing backs up -- either in your home or in your body – everything stops
until it’s fixed.
If
you disagree, you are able to withstand a lot more pain and agony than I am. I’m
not much of a man to start with, but without good plumbing, I’m a shell. A baby
in a diapie that needs changing.
Last
week a work van in Alabama passed me. Paint on this just-washed vehicle
advertised “John’s Plumbing: We Repair What Your Husband Fixed.”
Brilliant!
“John’s Plumbing.” Like “Jeeves’ Butler Service,” the name screams “I was meant
for this job!”
Research
determined that John really did start the company, and while not everyone named
John is destined to be a plumber, this John felt the pull of gravity and
backhoes and PVC pipe and followed his intuition to build a successful
enterprise, and one with efficient drivers. I like to get passed on the
interstate by plumbing vehicles: when you need a plumber, you always need one
yesterday.
And
few husbands, no matter their looks or money or position on the ladder of
success, have a solid working knowledge of plumbing. We try, but we’ll always
be in Plumber Elementary School next to the pros. We are better at making it
worse than we are at making it better.
Let’s
be honest: you’re more excited to see the plumber than you are the cable man
or, in most cases, your pastor. Even on a Sunday. Especially on a Sunday, even
if it’s going to cost you time-and-a-half.
Plumbing
problems are no respecter of the calendar.
Consider
that no matter where you are at this second, there are more likely than not
pipes below you. All up under there. All up under your house, your place of
business, your city. How do they all fit together? Who figured all that out?
How does which pipe know what to carry, and where? Who keeps it all hooked
together and flowing smoothly?
Plumber.
From
the get-go to the backflow, they know.
For
a couple of days a few weeks ago my yard looked like an international mole
convention was ongoing. Guys were out there with shovels and brains and hands
not afraid to get dirty. And then, bingo. Level dirt. Things were flushing.
Drains were draining. Peace in the valley, and all quiet on the western front.
How
do they do it?
I’m
told there are three rules of plumbing: some things don’t run uphill; payday’s
Friday; don’t bite your fingernails. But there’s more to it than that. Plumbers
run the world, and from underground. Like my favorite plumber, knee-deep in
mud, told me, “Try buying THIS on the internet.”
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