Hello again, ‘bout time for another blog I’d say. But don’t expect any enlightenment, or insight. On this day, I’m pretty much going to bitch and moan. Today I have come to the conclusion that Concrete Finishing (my current career) is the hardest job on the entire planet. Hold your responses for the time being, I’m quite sure that all you doctors, and baby animal rescue teams will have your own take on that statement. But in my experiences, it has taken the cake on the difficulty scale. In addition, Mike Rowe of the Discovery channel show ‘Dirty Jobs’ agrees with me. Concrete work, as a career, is the single most horrible thing a human being can subject themselves to.
Picture this if you will. You and your fellow finishers (as they’re called in the trade) have been dragging Olympian loads of Lumber, Steel, Form Panels, Stakes, and Hardware up the same hill for the last week. Yes, a week (or more) of slave labor just to build a foundation form. You think I jest? Go dig up a one-foot section of the foundation of your home, and tell me how big it is. Now multiply that by your home’s perimeter and voilla! You have roughly the amount of work I do in a week. Back on subject… So there you are, with a humungous wooden box, anchored to the Earth, and filled with a cornucopia of steel rebar and hardware. Now the fun part. You and your mates fill the forms with liquid concrete by way of boom pump. (If you’re lucky) Frenzy sets in as the crew lovingly cuts and polishes the concrete until it all sits flat at the specified grade. I’m sure from any aerial distance, a finish crew looks like ants scurrying around, all willy nilly. Though it appears to be complete chaos, to a finisher, each and every job is like a child; constantly minded and nurtured until there is no doubt that it can thrive and flourish on its own.
Now comes the part that drives the work from being merely difficult, into the realms of ‘insane human torture’. After the concrete has set, you un-build everything you have built! Yes folks! Every week I must tear down each and every one of my lovingly crafted creations. Every board and panel must be stripped, scraped, oiled, and stacked in a never-ending dance of construction futility. Granted some of the larger commercial crews have temps and laborers to do all the hard stuff, but seldom do we lowly custom residential finishers get that benefit. Throw in the necessary stacking and un-stacking of trailers, lot clean up, and any load/unload times spent in the company yard, and there you have it. The hardest job on the planet. Not hard enough for you eh? Ok, do it for $14.50 an hour. Gotcha there, didn’t I? Here in Bend, OR, that wage is actually considered good for 1st and 2nd year finishers.
So there you have it. Why do I do it you say? Because I love it, plain and simple. Being outdoors all the time. The pride in my compatriots and myself in a job well-done. Or just the complete knowledge of how to completely fuck your house over if you do me wrong. All of these are contributing factors as to why I wake up every morning to do it.
Speaking of which, I gotta shower up, and grab some dinner before it gets too late. Tomorrow I have to go to the hardest job ever…
