Tell me which of these jobs you’d rather have.

Job #1
On the last day of school this past school year, a neighbor boy missed the bus and I had to drive him home. When we got to his house, a guy from Verizon was in his yard marking phone lines. In one hand he had a tool like a metal detector. In the other he had spray paint in a tool that allowed him to stand up straight and spray on the ground. He seemed to be ambling along pleasantly enjoying the nice weather, beeping and spraying. The boy & I thought it would be cool to have a job where you could spray paint in people’s yards and not even get in trouble for it. I shared this observation with the worker who just smiled at me without comment, probably because his mind was numb from the boringness of his job. Still, it was a nice day and he seemed peaceful. His efforts were going to bring fiber optic internet speed to my home. I was happy to see him.

Jobs #2 & 3
I caught up with a childhood friend the other day. We haven’t talked in at least six months or more. The last time I talked to her, she had just gone down to assist in New Orleans through the Red Cross. I asked on our phone call if she was still working with the RC. She had parlayed the job into an important consultant working on the US’s pandemic response plan. (I’ve never been good at remembering titles, but hers was an impressive one.) The latest component of the plan she had been negotiating was called “Body Management.” It seems that our morgues are not equipped for pandemic numbers. So she had been running numbers based on the burning capacity of incinerators at equine facilities. For example, an equine incinerator can manage 2500 pounds an hour. (Did you know they burned dead horses?) She explained that if the average adult male weighed 180, a 2500 lb per hour incinerator could handle almost 14 bodies an hour or 333 bodies per day. I reminded her that in America she might want to kick that 180 up to 200. She continued to explain that to be efficient, children’s bodies could be disposed of in veterinary incinerators that had smaller capacity. I asked who would be the ones stuffing in the bodies. She was still working on that component. Her efforts would help contain a deadly virus. Although I’m glad she is working on a plan, I was not happy to hear about it. I guess those medical types can check their gag reflexes at the office door better than I can.

So which job would you prefer: mindless yard spray painter, grisly body manager, or incinerator stuffer?