Red Mosquito

Carl Sandburg wrote:There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.

tragabigzanda wrote:Check out a TX report from the Dept of Labor. There was a report here in MT that made a strong argument that a two-year trade degree was the fastest path for MT natives to $75K.

That said, so you really want to go be a journeyman plumber at age 40? Fucking back will hate you forever.

Go be a rep for a beverage distributor. Talk up the people who fill your kegs each month. You could jump right in, start building a client base. Regional manager within five years? Low six figures? Doesn’t sound outlandish.

washing machine wrote:

wease wrote:It’s never too late. I started X-ray school when I was 35. Using that degree I’ve managed to swindle my way to a director of operations position for a mid-sized urgent care company.

Wow. I had no idea that's how you got where you are. Not that I'm thinking about that specific field, but what was X-Ray school like? How much of a time commit is it really, and what were you doing while in that school?

Carl Sandburg wrote:There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.

tragabigzanda wrote:My understanding is that Reid’s bar is more of a casual late night spot.

wease wrote:

washing machine wrote:

wease wrote:It’s never too late. I started X-ray school when I was 35. Using that degree I’ve managed to swindle my way to a director of operations position for a mid-sized urgent care company.

Wow. I had no idea that's how you got where you are. Not that I'm thinking about that specific field, but what was X-Ray school like? How much of a time commit is it really, and what were you doing while in that school?

So I was pretty much at a crossroads. I had no real skills other than a lifetime of retail to offer and I knew I wanted something I would be able to use no matter where I went. So I thought about X-ray school. I applied to one of the area programs and took the required prerequisite courses and finished with a 3.8 gpa. They interviewed 99 of us for 33 spots and I found out later they didn’t even consider anyone that didn’t have a 4.0. So after I got my rejection letter, I could wait 9 more months and apply to the other college or apply to the local scammy, for profit school and start in 3 months. I opted for the latter. The program was directed by one of the absolute top guys in the field so I felt good about that. The program for radiologic technologist is 2 years. You can go to a university and get a BS in it but you don’t really any better skills than what I got with my associates degree.

While school was a major commitment of time, I still worked full time and even conceived and had our second child while in school. The biggest thing that affected me is that, at the time there was a glut in the market for X-ray. Schools were turning out tons of students and none of the baby boomers were retiring yet. So it was pretty tough finding something right out of school. Projections were they’d start retiring within 5 years but that didn’t happen. It was about 8 years before the market was really open and now there’s an incredible shortage. It’s next to impossible for me to hire RTs right now. Hospitals are paying them so much they’re pricing operations like ours out. Some of them like Vanderbilt are paying more than I make in my current position. Now would be a fantastic time to get into it.

spike wrote:Like mentioned earlier, you’ll regret getting into something more physically demanding as you approach your 40s/50s.

washing machine wrote:

spike wrote:Like mentioned earlier, you’ll regret getting into something more physically demanding as you approach your 40s/50s.

So this is a stigma I'm trying to wrangle with. Is trade work really synonymous with back breaking labor? What about technicians, or the wease approach?

spike wrote:

washing machine wrote:

spike wrote:Like mentioned earlier, you’ll regret getting into something more physically demanding as you approach your 40s/50s.

So this is a stigma I'm trying to wrangle with. Is trade work really synonymous with back breaking labor? What about technicians, or the wease approach?

Part of it is the potential heavy lifting or awkward stances, but another part of it is as you get older, parts of the old body can just give out on you, and t may prohibit you from doing your physically demanding job.

tragabigzanda wrote:Or maybe rep restaurant equipment? High end stuff like Viking?

washing machine wrote:

spike wrote:

washing machine wrote:

spike wrote:Like mentioned earlier, you’ll regret getting into something more physically demanding as you approach your 40s/50s.

So this is a stigma I'm trying to wrangle with. Is trade work really synonymous with back breaking labor? What about technicians, or the wease approach?

Part of it is the potential heavy lifting or awkward stances, but another part of it is as you get older, parts of the old body can just give out on you, and t may prohibit you from doing your physically demanding job.

Sort of joking but mostly not: this is why I run.

washing machine wrote:

tragabigzanda wrote:Or maybe rep restaurant equipment? High end stuff like Viking?

This actually might be something, but not in the way you're describing.

I could easily see value in learning the technical skills it would take to be a draft line or beer cooler technician. With enough experience, one might even land a contract with a large hospitality group with multiple locations.

Carl Sandburg wrote:There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.

washing machine wrote:

wease wrote:

washing machine wrote:

wease wrote:It’s never too late. I started X-ray school when I was 35. Using that degree I’ve managed to swindle my way to a director of operations position for a mid-sized urgent care company.

Wow. I had no idea that's how you got where you are. Not that I'm thinking about that specific field, but what was X-Ray school like? How much of a time commit is it really, and what were you doing while in that school?

So I was pretty much at a crossroads. I had no real skills other than a lifetime of retail to offer and I knew I wanted something I would be able to use no matter where I went. So I thought about X-ray school. I applied to one of the area programs and took the required prerequisite courses and finished with a 3.8 gpa. They interviewed 99 of us for 33 spots and I found out later they didn’t even consider anyone that didn’t have a 4.0. So after I got my rejection letter, I could wait 9 more months and apply to the other college or apply to the local scammy, for profit school and start in 3 months. I opted for the latter. The program was directed by one of the absolute top guys in the field so I felt good about that. The program for radiologic technologist is 2 years. You can go to a university and get a BS in it but you don’t really any better skills than what I got with my associates degree.

While school was a major commitment of time, I still worked full time and even conceived and had our second child while in school. The biggest thing that affected me is that, at the time there was a glut in the market for X-ray. Schools were turning out tons of students and none of the baby boomers were retiring yet. So it was pretty tough finding something right out of school. Projections were they’d start retiring within 5 years but that didn’t happen. It was about 8 years before the market was really open and now there’s an incredible shortage. It’s next to impossible for me to hire RTs right now. Hospitals are paying them so much they’re pricing operations like ours out. Some of them like Vanderbilt are paying more than I make in my current position. Now would be a fantastic time to get into it.

Thank you for this. Do you regret going for that particular for-profit school? Doesn't sound like it, but I'm curious about that experience and what you may have done differently if a better option existed for you at that time.

spike wrote:

washing machine wrote:

spike wrote:Like mentioned earlier, you’ll regret getting into something more physically demanding as you approach your 40s/50s.

So this is a stigma I'm trying to wrangle with. Is trade work really synonymous with back breaking labor? What about technicians, or the wease approach?

Part of it is the potential heavy lifting or awkward stances, but another part of it is as you get older, parts of the old body can just give out on you, which may prohibit you from doing your physically demanding job for an extended period. Just something to consider.

I imagine an X-ray tech would be okay, but talking about running wire is a bit different.