Labor Day

I was born and partially raised in Flint, Michigan, and though my old man didn't work for GM, every one of my friends' dads did. I eventually ended up in Beckley, West Virginia, and though I didn't marry a coal miner's daughter, I did marry a construction worker's daughter, a coal miner's granddaughter, and the sister of a guy who still works in the mines to this day. Yes, it's all the same woman.

None of this gives me any organized labor bonafides -- my only union experience came when I spent two hours working at a UPS distribution center during which time I was technically a Teamster -- but my surroundings have made me generally sympathetic to the cause of labor. Yes, unions overreach from time to time, but when you've had a boot to your throat for a couple hundred years, such overreactions are understandable.

All of this is to say that I take Labor Day pretty seriously, and for that reason, I'm not posting today. Even those of us with cushy jobs and who basically produce nothing spend too much time at them and not enough with our families, so while I've been guilty of posting on holidays before, I'm keeping this one more or less labor free.

Having known a few, I wouldn't recommend that you literally go out and hug a miner -- that could end really poorly and probably violently -- but do try to take some time to think about and thank your friendly neighborhood working man and woman for making your life what it is today. If you are a working man or woman, by all means, take that last hot dog or beer, because you've earned it.