One of my first jobs was chopping firewood, for $3 a cord. In a 12-hour day on a Saturday I could chop 5 or 6 cords, if I didn't waste too much time talking with the boss' daughter. That might not sound like much, but it sure beat the $1/hour minimum wage. And it sure as heck beat working on a hog feeder farm, which was my first job.

That might not sound like much, until you realize I was paid with silver certificates, and coins that had real silver and real copper in them. And back in the days when gas was 18 cents a gallon, that was real money. And trapping season was when I made my real money.

(My Dad thought I was grossly overpaid. He was happy to make a dollar a cord for chopping wood, back in the Depression. And lest you think we enjoyed that idyllic lifestyle, there was a reason we both volunteered for the military as soon as we were old enough, even with wars going on.)

The point I'm trying to make is, there's nothing wrong with hard work, even if it is hard, dirty, and unpleasant. Trust me, the wars my Dad and I fought in were a lot harder, dirtier, and way more unpleasant.

Onward and upward,
airforce