LEARNING HARD WORK - Segment 3 (Scroll down for earlier segments)


    

     During the winter, I lost some of my sheer joy of throwing newspapers.  That was probably because it’s hard to throw newspapers when your hands are numb.  I checked my long-term contract to see if it included winter delivery.  It did.  Then I checked to see if it included an “escape clause.”  It didn’t.  I decided I would ask to be traded to the Caribbean. 

     My agent said my contract included a “no trade” clause, with an amendment that said even I couldn’t ask for a trade.  The winter was getting longer.  I considered firing my agent, but I didn’t like the prospect of being homeless.  As the winter cold wore on, I collected my toes and fingers and saved them in a box until they could be re-attached in the spring.   

     After that first winter, I thought about free agency, but my agent advised me against it.  She said I could try it, but I would have to apply as a foster child. 

     I kept waiting for numerous job offers to come pouring in, but there hadn’t even been a leak.  I was beginning to think I might have to look for other work or, preferably, an avenue of escape.

     Finally, my long-term contract as a paperboy expired.   I now had more time to try and corral my wandering mind, as it darted in and out of the classroom.  It was also looking for an avenue of escape---we always seemed to be on the same page.

     One day I found myself graduating from high school.  I have no idea how I found myself there.  Even my teachers were surprised.  ”Wow, I can’t believe you’re here,” they said. 

    “I agree,” I answered.  “It’s one of the great mysteries of my time.”      

     Gramps said my graduating from high school was one of the greatest escape acts he had ever witnessed; almost as good as my escape from hard work.