Old Joiners

When I began woodworking, rather later than some as I had little desire to work until my 20s, I chose it not for any reason other than I felt that society could crumble at any time. What use would an economics degree be in the aftermath of apocalipse? At least a joiner could build a shack to live in. If times weren't so bad he could make furniture for rich people. There were flaws in the plan. Now, in my mid 40s, I realise that the choice was a poor one. Anything you do with your hands, unless it transcends commodity and becomes art, can not command more than an hourly rate. You are unable to get ahead enough to retrain. As you age your speed gets slower, you may have more tricks but the body deteriorates. The obvious route many take is to employ other, younger workers. I have never liked dealing with clients, I find it hard enough to sleep with the few responsibillities I already have. However, I have reached a place where things aren't working. This is a dialemna facing most who started when I did. Time for a change.