I work from home, in a small upstairs office with a window that faces the front yard and street beyond. It’s a convenient perch to see all the goings-on in our little corner of the world – the cars passing by, the people walking or jogging or riding their bikes or pushing their baby strollers, the delivery trucks and trash haulers, the chipmunks and squirrels, rabbits and birds, occasional deer.
The sun rises right in front of my desk window. If no trees were in the way, you could see the New York City skyline off in the distance. When the sun is fat and bright, it comes streaming right into my desk window (and eyeballs) around mid-morning, forcing me to close the blinds. But there are a couple other windows in the office to let the sun in. I never turn the lights on during the day – or need to, or want to. I prefer the natural sunlight. When the clouds cover the sun I keep the blinds open in front of me.
Just about every day of the week there is some kind of labor going in front of my window. Yard crews cutting grass and/or blowing leaves. Neighbors pulling weeds or trimming hedges. Fix-it specialists doing odd jobs. This is an old neighborhood that traces its roots to the very early 20th century. Old houses, old trees, lots of work to be done.
There are times, I admit, when the work grates on my nerves in the worst way – like when I have to endure the loud and constant screeching of leaf blowers, power mowers, chain saws and wood chippers. But sometimes you can learn a lot from the work going on right in front of your eyes. Or at least find positive value in it.
*****
This week I have been kept company by a crew of roofers hired to replace the roof on a house across the street. From my desk, I have seen them take the project from A to Z. The delivery of materials and positioning of ladders. The tearing apart of the old roof, shingle by shingle. The discarding of debris, loading of said debris in heavy-duty trucks, and hauling away of said debris.
There’s a lot going on in this kind of project. The workers attach a large tarp at the roof edge to cover the gutters so none of the debris gets in. The tarp extends down to the ground so the workers can toss debris on it without sullying the lawn or shrubs or porch or walkways below. Meantime, the replacement job begins by hammering wooden planks into place and covering them with some kind of underliner. After that, the shingles are hammered into place.
I worked on a roofing crew one summer between college semesters, many years ago, but that involved installing a ribbed, metal roof atop a small industrial building. The roof across the street is made from shingles. It’s a whole other thing. For the first time in my life, I watched the residential roofing process in real time, soup to nuts. You learn a lot just by watching.
In the course of less than three full days I have seen these workers take down a roof on a large house and then replace it with a handsome new roof. The roof itself is very steep. I’m not sure of the angle. Closer to 90 degrees than 45. There are some triangular sections above the windows. There’s a curved eave below the main roof. It’s not the easiest or safest work in the world, not by a long shot.
But this crew did its job with admirable skill and efficiency. They knew exactly what they were doing and exactly how to go about it. It was impressive watching them take the project from one stage to the next. You didn’t see any missteps or wasted effort. No goofing around. No dropping materials or mishandling tools. This crew was a well-oiled human machine of craftsmanship and skill. When they were done with the main house, they replaced the roof on the garage.
*****
All of the workers were immigrants from Spanish-speaking countries. I know this because they spoke to each other in Spanish and occasionally put on some Spanish music. I assume they were from Mexico, but there might have been some from neighboring countries like El Salvador, Honduras, Guatemala or Nicaragua. Most of the immigrants doing this kind of work are from Central America.
I have no idea if the men on this crew are legal or illegal immigrants. Don’t know, don’t care. This is a big issue here in the United States – illegal immigration, immigrants taking over jobs, immigrants using government services, immigrants invading spaces and places meant for people who were born here. A lot of Americans have immigration on the brain these days. They constantly whine about it. If you stacked their grievances one on top of the other it would stretch to the moon.
I don’t have time for these people. They bore the ever-loving shit out of me. I want to turn their asses into footballs and punt them into the nearest sewer.
Immigration is a complicated issue that too many people want to simplify into inane little sound bites – not just here in the United States, but in much of Europe these days as well. Funny how countries that once colonized most of the world are now upset about so many “foreigners” living within their precious borders.
I won’t dwell on this. Instead, I’ll refer you to this excellent essay from noted blogger Scott Galloway. Here’s an excerpt:
“Twenty years ago I was renovating a house. I needed to finish the basement, but didn’t have the money to build a proper man cave, just a livable space with some built-ins. But nobody would take the job. The two quotes I managed to secure were more than the down payment on my first home. When I asked to meet with one of the sub-contractors, he was a no-show. Finally, my general contractor and I drove to a local 7-11, where several people rushed his truck. The GC asked them some questions in Spanish, and six guys jumped in the back.
These men, each one with a different skill, worked around the clock, only taking breaks to make design suggestions. They weren’t just laborers, they were craftsmen. Skilled, hardworking, conscientious — and reasonable. Were they taking American jobs? No, as there were no Americans willing to do those jobs.”
*****
This is not a blog about the immigration issue. It’s a job about work – good work, work that lasts. I watched those men across the street take down an old roof and put up a new one in just a few days. The new roof is a thing of beauty, something I never before would have noticed. It will probably last a couple of decades or more. I bet the homeowners paid a lot of money for the work, but the roof increased the value of their home by tens of thousands of dollars.
Sitting here at my desk, I wondered about these workers – where they’re from, where they live now, how far they’ve traveled, what they do when they get off work, what kinds of families they go home to. I briefly envied them because they belong to a community of both immigrants and roofers, whereas I’m just another American dude working from home.
I entertained thoughts of them having a couple of cervezas after work and eating some delicious Mexican food, laughing it up, blowing off steam. But that was more my own fantasy. More likely, they headed home like most everyone else who puts in a full day’s labor.
I admire the job they did – from the first step up the ladder to the final step down. There’s something to be said for putting in a good day’s work for a good day’s pay. From my vantage point, these men put in the good work. I hope they earned the good pay, and will see many more good paydays yet to come.
Note: I took the photo from my desk. They are much better roofers than I am a photographer.
Note2: Last week I blogged about a phone call 25 years ago that changed my life, and indicated my next blog would be a follow-up to that. But when I saw the roof job across the street, I just had to write about that instead. When inspiration strikes, you leap. The other blog will come later.
Vance Cariaga 