having cake, and eating it too

i pulled the chocolate cake out of sam's refridgerator and stood in the kitchen eating it.

Sam's kitchen is almost done being remolded. As i stood there in the middle of the kitchen i watched a man lay the 2" tile around the electrical outlets. i ate silently as he worked silently. my eyes followed the tile along the wall above the marble countertop, around to the bar, and past the range and run around under the bartop. the white tile covered the room like pixels of light, at a resoulution of 6 pixels per feet.

i ate sam's chocolate cake and watched the man chip away at one particular tile to fit around the galvanized conduit.

"How long is this going to take you?" i asked, with half admiration, half pity in my voice.

"A lot longer than i thought." he replied without looking up from the 2" by 2" matrix.

"I usually have help. But i don't do this full time anymore, so i usually do it by myself." he continued.

I cut another piece of cake.

"I also do hardwood flooring. Or any flooring. Sometimes just general remodling. whatever needs to be done. But i would like to get out of this town." he said.

i swallowed my chocolate cake.

"Why?" i asked.

"There is no money here." he said.

"But there is wood." i replied. "which reminds me, i like to build picture frames for photographs. do you know where i can get any walnut"?

The man leaned up from his 2" by 2" world and leaned against the marble countertop.

"i have a friend i was telling sam about." he began. "Who owns his own mill about 20 miles outside of town. he does beautiful work and is real nice guy. i will leave his phone number and directions to his lumbermill with sam."

"And i have to tell you a story about him." the man continued.

"okay." i said.

"This guy used to work for the state. he was in the transportation department for a long time. and whenever the lottery was big he and his buddies would buy tickets." he smiled as we stood there in the silent kitchen, he with his tape measure, and i with my fork.

"well one day they won. they won big. and he quit his job and started that lumbermill because that is what he has always loved doing. and when you go out there, it isn't fancy, and he doesn't do it to make any money, but there is wood everywhere and he does great work. crown molding, shoe molding, all kinds of trim work. he just loves what he does and has always wanted to do it. I am sure he would give you some scrap if it suited your needs." he said as he leaned back over the marble kitchen counterop and stared at the grid of white.

Suddenly my ears began to ring in the silence of sam's kitchen surrounded by the white pixelated grid of ceramic.

I began wondering if it was such a oddity to do what you love for a living. i wondered why doing what you love and what you are good at never seems to be as profitable or as easy as doing just the opposite. It is never synonomous with 'doing what ever needs done'. it is never as pragmatic or as marketable as laying 2" tile in a quiet kitchen at 8:00 on a thursday night. i wondered if my odds at doing what i loved for a living were going to be any better odds than playing the state lottery. i wondered if i will ever be able to live my life and enjoy it too.

"would you like some chocolate cake?" i asked him.

"Oh, no thanks." he said to the white tiled wall in the silent kitchen.

Posted by Todd Roeth at October 29, 2003 09:43 PM