Journalism and Janitors: Dirty birds of a metaphorical feather

 When I was a poor preacher's kid working my way through college, I had gigs as a dishwasher at Holiday Inn, and as a janitor on campus. 

Thirty-plus years later, I realize it was the latter job that prepared me best, mentally anyway, for a career as a journalist.

Living the dream, folks. I rise before dawn, get to work when the sun rises and essentially shovel away the "crap" left over from nightside, leaving the news porcelain seat clean for the day's Buns 'o' Destiny.

When you get down to it, whether in coveralls or a suit, loafers or hip-boots, wielding a laptop and cellphone or a spray bottle of disinfectant and a Johnny brush, we all essentially scoop and flip the tasks of the day in order to put that roof over our heads and food on the table.

Which reminds me: Always wash your hands after work and before eating.