Labor Day isn’t just a holiday honoring expectant mothers and manual laborers; it’s also a day that says, “Summer is over now; quit buying tank tops and wearing white jeans.”

I’m definitely of the manual laborer ilk, but as faithful readers know, I’m not an enthusiastic member of that ilk. (I do love saying “ilk” though). I figure some were born to work, others born to create art or music, and still others were meant to write. So when asked what kind of work I’m in, I answer, “I’m a roofer, slash writer.” “Author” sounds a little pretentious for my style, or ilk if you will.

And there’s no denying that roofing is one of the most labor-intensive, unglamorous professions going — slaughterhouse janitor notwithstanding — and I’m getting a little long in the tooth for it. So it’s either visit an orthodontist, or keep my workload light, which I’ve done for several years. Actually, I never fully embraced the vocation, but I kind of fell into it at 21, am darn efficient at it and it pays for my cable.

Walking toward a roof on a hot, late morning though, my posture most-closely mimics Christ carrying the cross to his crucifixion. I thought the Bible might be sympathetic to my lukewarm work ethic, so delved into scripture for some validation. Boy was THAT a mistake!

I opened the proverbial good book to Proverbs, written by that wise guy King Solomon and recommended by many preachers as a good starting point for true seekers. The Bible sometimes seems to magically guide the reader to passages directly addressing the need, so I blindly paged to Proverbs 6:6. It began, “Go to the ant, you sluggard …” “Heeeey! Easy with that stuff,” I says to myself. “If I wanted that kind of derision, I’d attend my family reunions!”

That know-it-all Solomon was just getting started. “Consider its (the wily ant) ways and be wise! It has no commander; no overseer or ruler, yet it stores its provisions in summer and gathers its food at harvest.” Hmm, interesting, since I didn’t work particularly hard this summer, and since losing last summer’s paltry provisions to a collection agency on 9/11, I had sweated through a cold winter.

Verse 9 continued the scathing, scriptural emasculation: “How long will you lie there, you sluggard?” (Again with the sluggard thing! We laid-back men prefer the gentler, “sloth.”) “When will you get up from your sleep?” To answer his question, it was 11 a.m., soon after I had again hit the ground limping. “A little sleep; a little slumber, a little folding of the hands to rest — and poverty will come on you like a bandit and scarcity like an armed man.”

Ooh; I’m shakin’, I’m shakin’! Ironically though, I had just gotten off the phone with another credit card collection agency offering a payment plan and threatening further action. At least the guy stopped short of calling me a sluggard, to which I’d have yelled, “I know you are, but what am I? If I’m a sluggard, you’re a lowly, lazy bloodsucker. I’ve never met a telemarketer with a single blister on his hands.”

The expounding down below the actual text of my Life Application Bible, which interprets the scriptures in more common, everyman language, was a bit less rigid. It explained verses 6-11 as, “Those last few moments of sleep are delicious …” (You ain’t just whistling Dixie, sister!), “… we savor them as we resist starting another work day. But Proverbs warns against giving in to the temptations of laziness, of sleeping instead of working. This does not mean we should never rest…” (Thank you)!

It concludes with “If laziness turns us from our responsibilities, poverty may soon bar us from the legitimate rest we should enjoy.” Granted, it’s nearly impossible to sleep peacefully when creditors are ringing the phone non-stop. But even though the tenacious ant — and the always productive squirrel — is an inspiration to workaholics, let’s give the majestic grizzly its due. He/she sleeps nonstop for six months after storing up nothing. They scavenge for berries and handouts when it’s warm and make the best of it.

So I’ll be just fine, thank you, Solomon. And if you were so brilliant, what were you doing with 700 wives and 300 concubines? I suppose you did need more provisions than the average ant or roofer. I might be a sluggard, but at least I’m smart enough to stay single like Paul, formerly known as Saul before he turned pro. Now there was a man after my own ilk.

Labor Day isn’t just a holiday honoring expectant mothers and manual laborers; it’s also a day that says, “Summer is over now; quit buying tank tops and wearing white jeans.”

I’m definitely of the manual laborer ilk, but as faithful readers know, I’m not an enthusiastic member of that ilk. (I do love saying “ilk” though). I figure some were born to work, others born to create art or music, and still others were meant to write. So when asked what kind of work I’m in, I answer, “I’m a roofer, slash writer.” “Author” sounds a little pretentious for my style, or ilk if you will.

And there’s no denying that roofing is one of the most labor-intensive, unglamorous professions going — slaughterhouse janitor notwithstanding — and I’m getting a little long in the tooth for it. So it’s either visit an orthodontist, or keep my workload light, which I’ve done for several years. Actually, I never fully embraced the vocation, but I kind of fell into it at 21, am darn efficient at it and it pays for my cable.

Walking toward a roof on a hot, late morning though, my posture most-closely mimics Christ carrying the cross to his crucifixion. I thought the Bible might be sympathetic to my lukewarm work ethic, so delved into scripture for some validation. Boy was THAT a mistake!

I opened the proverbial good book to Proverbs, written by that wise guy King Solomon and recommended by many preachers as a good starting point for true seekers. The Bible sometimes seems to magically guide the reader to passages directly addressing the need, so I blindly paged to Proverbs 6:6. It began, “Go to the ant, you sluggard …” “Heeeey! Easy with that stuff,” I says to myself. “If I wanted that kind of derision, I’d attend my family reunions!”

That know-it-all Solomon was just getting started. “Consider its (the wily ant) ways and be wise! It has no commander; no overseer or ruler, yet it stores its provisions in summer and gathers its food at harvest.” Hmm, interesting, since I didn’t work particularly hard this summer, and since losing last summer’s paltry provisions to a collection agency on 9/11, I had sweated through a cold winter.

Verse 9 continued the scathing, scriptural emasculation: “How long will you lie there, you sluggard?” (Again with the sluggard thing! We laid-back men prefer the gentler, “sloth.”) “When will you get up from your sleep?” To answer his question, it was 11 a.m., soon after I had again hit the ground limping. “A little sleep; a little slumber, a little folding of the hands to rest — and poverty will come on you like a bandit and scarcity like an armed man.”

Ooh; I’m shakin’, I’m shakin’! Ironically though, I had just gotten off the phone with another credit card collection agency offering a payment plan and threatening further action. At least the guy stopped short of calling me a sluggard, to which I’d have yelled, “I know you are, but what am I? If I’m a sluggard, you’re a lowly, lazy bloodsucker. I’ve never met a telemarketer with a single blister on his hands.”

The expounding down below the actual text of my Life Application Bible, which interprets the scriptures in more common, everyman language, was a bit less rigid. It explained verses 6-11 as, “Those last few moments of sleep are delicious …” (You ain’t just whistling Dixie, sister!), “… we savor them as we resist starting another work day. But Proverbs warns against giving in to the temptations of laziness, of sleeping instead of working. This does not mean we should never rest…” (Thank you)!

It concludes with “If laziness turns us from our responsibilities, poverty may soon bar us from the legitimate rest we should enjoy.” Granted, it’s nearly impossible to sleep peacefully when creditors are ringing the phone non-stop. But even though the tenacious ant — and the always productive squirrel — is an inspiration to workaholics, let’s give the majestic grizzly its due. He/she sleeps nonstop for six months after storing up nothing. They scavenge for berries and handouts when it’s warm and make the best of it.

So I’ll be just fine, thank you, Solomon. And if you were so brilliant, what were you doing with 700 wives and 300 concubines? I suppose you did need more provisions than the average ant or roofer. I might be a sluggard, but at least I’m smart enough to stay single like Paul, formerly known as Saul before he turned pro. Now there was a man after my own ilk.