My career, before retirement, consisted of arising at 4:15 AM, going to work, and working until the job was done. It meant, as I began, pouring and finishing concrete, in the heat of the August sun or the cold of January. It meant, after I moved from pouring concrete to producing concrete, being at work at 6:00 AM, and sometimes significantly earlier, and staying until the last customer was finished. It meant, though some work was inside, shoveling out under conveyor belts, climbing silos, stripping and resetting 2’x2’x6′ waste concrete blocks, greasing plants, running front-end loaders, fixing machinery, in all kinds of weather, and workdays that were almost never only eight hours long.

I was hardly the only working-class person that had to do stuff like that. Millions upon millions of us had to do the same things, five and six days a week, and when the restrictions that came with the panicdemic — and no, that’s not a typographical error; that is exactly how I define it! — that had some people assigned to work from home, many working class people laughed at the notion that what they did for a living could be done from home.

So, when I saw this, I will confess that I was not moved by the plight of these poor babies!

White House reporters already ‘exhausted’ by second Trump administration

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