Part of my daily or every other daily routine is a trip to the carniceria, the butcher shop. It is one of my favorite places to go. If you ever shot a deer, you had to clean it. I will save you all the macabre details, but suffice it to say that I was fascinated with the whole process. I still am. I think I was meant to be either a serial killer, surgeon or undertaker. Probably the latter to avoid incarceration and lawsuits, as I tend to lose focus too quickly to be successful at the other two, and I am also a pretty good salesman, which helps with undertaking.
So my fascination with meat is being fed quite well by Pepi and her butcher brethren. You can walk in and see all sorts of animals hanging around, waiting to be chopped, dropped and plopped on a platter. Pepi literally lights up the room with her smile and good nature. She loves what she does, which is so hard to find anywhere. Her staff shares her enthusiasm. It is obvious with every stroke of the cleaver, every slice of the knife. I have seen that look of satisfaction on a few faces in my life. Pearl Fryar in Bishopville, SC is one of them. He creates topiary landscapes just because he loves it. My mama in a classroom full of students . Grandaddy driving a 16 penny nail into a 2x4.
I told Pepi the other day how much I loved coming into her shop, instead of a place like Wal-Mart, and I began to riff on how much I love everything here, even the local beer, Estrella de Levante, which you can only find in Murcia. She walked into the cooler and opened a beer for me on the spot. Juan, her husband who runs the cash register, would not let me pay for it.
Pepi's attitude about work begs the question, why are so many of us doing things that we hate? Are we living to work or working to live? Is all that stuff that we have accumulated worth all that painful, thankless toil in a job that does not bring us joy?
Paychecks or Passion?
I ask myself that question daily, Dan.
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