There is a trailer park of sorts that I pass everytime I go into town from where I live. It's pretty dumpy looking. There's three trailers. They're all very small and only one of them-that I can tell-has air conditioning. It's a window unit in a window facing the street. The yard around the three trailers is littered with anything, everything: car parts, toys, broken trampolines, just everything. Right smack in the middle of the community yard is a car. It's jacked up on a box (I think) and is in pretty bad shape. The front bumper is hurting and there is something the matter with the general engine-area. I know this because in the last few months I have seen the inhabitants of these mobile homes out there working on it. They're always sweating it out, drinking out of plastic cups and cans, and looking generally raggedy, and there is always more than one of these people out there. That's what I like about them. They get it. They really get it.
Instead of insisting on quiet while he works, Mr. Fix-it is surrounded by his kids as he invests his time in this white car. Instead of staying in that one air-conditioned room, Mr. Fix-its brother sits on the porch talking to the Old Man of the Blue House, whose trailer has no air conditioning. Instead of telling her daughter off, Ms. Fix-it joins her thirteen-year-old outside on the trampoline. These people know; they see that it isn't about popularity, or education, or careers, or trades. They understand that concept which still manages to elude me, day after day: that people are the most rewarding way to spend your time.

As Victor Hugo says in his (fantastic, amazing, epic, life-changing) work "Les Miserables", There is one spectacle grander than the sea, that is the sky; there is one spectacle grander than the sky, that is the interior of the soul.

Mr. Hugo, like the Fix-its sees that people are the most important things that happen to us in this life. So let's be the Fix-its, and get it. Really get it.

(Funny the way it is)

Lydia