This morning I saw an old black guy in Bed-Stuy looking in one of those worksite windows that NYC re

This morning I saw an old black guy in Bed-Stuy looking in one of those worksite windows that NYC requires. He had this look on his face that suggested to me that he wasn't just curious, but he actually understood what he was seeing.

Like it was the sort of work he used to do. He was lean, like someone who had never had a lazy day. He had a wiry energy to him, like someone who was always busy.

He sported a neat silvery mustache and a baseball cap. Everything about him said: working man. The site was just some new rowhome, or maybe a tiny apartment building. Nothing fancy. Just a bit of neighborhood redevelopment.

It looked like he was retired but some part of him wanted to be in there, doing the part he knew how to do well. Work sucks for a lot of people, but when it doesn't, nothing is better at giving life meaning.

Leisure is nice, but a sense of accomplishment is better. It is hard to get started working but it's easier on the soul than quitting forever.