Safety manager
I got a flyer addessed to me as the "Safety Manager" of my company. Which, I guess, I am, seeing how spend a good part of my day making sure Alex doesn't ingest Pine-Sol. The flyer was for welding certification classes.

My grandfather was a welder, and, from what I'm told, quite a good one. I have a hard time picturing him actually holding down a job. This was a man whose big achievement of the day was moving from the recliner to the dinner table.

Maybe it runs in the genes, like alcoholism. I have used an oxy-acetylene torch. Working with fire satisfies some primal need, which is why I barbeque, even in sketchy weather.

I will become a journeyman welder, my tanks trailing behind me. I'll go from town to town brazing, joining, and, when need be, cutting. But for the love of a good woman, my life would be the best a man could expect. Or something like that.