I was the night foreman of a galvanizing factory, which is hot and smelly and dirty and miserable.
Acknowledge to yourself that the factory job is dead. Having a factory job is not a natural state. It wasn't at the heart of being human until very recently. We've been culturally brainwashed.
I would have felt more comfortable on a girder fifty floors above the street, catching white-hot rivets in a pail.
I thus decided to leave the university forever and tried to find an industrial job in the United States.
I worked offshore as an oil worker for a couple of years.
My father was indeed a musician, but he was a weekend warrior. He was a welder, actually, and worked all his life at the Ironworks in Beloit Wisconsin, and he played in a swing band on weekends.
My dad was an assembly line worker at AC Spark Plug, which was a division of General Motors, and his job was to build and then inspect the little spark plugs as they came off the line.
I worked a full-time job at a place call Caraustar. We recycle paper, then through recycled paper, we take it and we make V board out of it. If you buy a TV, a new couch, you see these little V boards that make like a V.
