Son of a Son of a Plumber

Being the son of the son of a plumber makes me feel like singing, though I’ve been warned enough about my musical abilities to not attempt. Fact is, plumbing’s in my DNA. Born to plumb. Other than routine major league dreams as a grade schooler, I can’t think of anything else I even wanted to do. It’s an economy proof, most-necessary service that’s often taken for granted.

Coming from generations of plumbers has always been a source of pride. Made me walk a little taller. Throughout my 34-year odyssey, I’ve never stopped wondering whether my father and grandfather would be proud of what I’m doing and how I handled problems. These thoughts have been my moral compass of sorts, leading me through the unpaved path of life.




3 responses to “Son of a Son of a Plumber

  1. One of those pieces of civilization that doesn’t get much credit, but everything would fall apart without. In fact, my blog entry scheduled for Veteran’s Day’s going to put all that right. The real veterans doing something to further whatever’s still good about our life here are the folks who are doing the essentials nobody notices.

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