Howling for the hard-working dogs: “We interrupt this Christmas Season for the following brief commercial transactions.”

by Greg Swann

Suburban Phoenix Real Estate Broker

Author website

Rich full day today, lots of variety. Working Christmas Eve with me were home inspector Mike Elsberry (two houses), wood inspector Joe Letourneau (two houses) and our handyman, Mark Deermer (one house). We had a plumber working at one of our listings, as well. I could tell by the (lack of) traffic on the streets that a lot of people took the day off, but I am delighted that so many of the people that I work with were working today.

I’m going to work quite a bit tomorrow, Christmas Day. Mail, of course. But I’m also going to service a listing and take a look at half-a-dozen vacant REOs. Nothing terribly time-consuming, more like errands than anything else. But it’s work I want and need to get done, and I don’t want to put it off.

I think this is all part of the revolution incited by these devices — alike unto the idea that privacy is an artifact of inefficiency. I don’t take time off as a binary state event, and it kind of drives me crazy when other people do.

I think it’s insane that too much of the commercial world comes to a complete standstill on special days. But at least we are not insane enough to be consistent. No one preaching the virtue of sacred pretend-poverty wants for the power plant or the hospital emergency room to shut down from now until the Feast of the Epiphany.

Even so, it is simultaneously plausible to me that I might have something to prove: I’m going to celebrate my Christmas, and I am not going to interrupt anyone else’s. But I can do valuable work for my clients tomorrow, and it is important to me to get it done. And, at a minimum, my clients will be ahead of the game and my workload Saturday will be lighter. Everybody wins.

But here’s the thing: I think you’re going to work tomorrow, too, even it’s only to deal with your client email. And I think this is something to be celebrated, not condemned. We work in the pursuit of happiness, as Jefferson had it — the wealth to live well, the comfort of a good home, the bond of security and dependence, conflict and conciliation that is a healthy marriage, a happy family life, financial independence in old age, charity, legacies and the mad pursuits of daily life. We work for money. And the hard-working dogs who are working on Christmas Day are my kind of canines.

I make my money when it’s there to be made. I really like it that so much of the commercial world will be working tomorrow, and I like it that the ratio is trending my way — now and going forward. The change has nothing to do with religion, I don’t think. It’s just people much like me who, by virtue of these electronic devices, feel more and more comfortable living our own way every day.

But this change can’t come fast enough for me. My take has always been that “The West” defined most broadly means anywhere from which you can reliably place a phone call. That’s virtually everywhere, but, seemingly, civilization and utopia are as yet co-terminus: I can phone anywhere tomorrow. (How sacrilegious to make those folks work — except that telephoning is the second or third major activity of the day.) But I can’t get a FedEx pick-up or any kind of air courier pick-up for less than a small fortune.

And this is not quite a “Humbug!” I don’t resent holidays, but that’s mostly because I tend to keep them chained-up in the back yard. Christmas is the only one left that tries to commandeer the whole day. Whatever. I like the Nazarene well enough, and I’ve always liked Christmas. But if there is one meme before all others that has driven my life, it’s this one: “Don’t stop.”

I’m working tomorrow, dogs, and don’t tell me you’re not. The work we do consists of making and keeping promises, and, in any case, this is no day for telling lies. Santa’s still watching, after all.

But: Really: Whatever. I love living in this country because it is so far still lawful for me to be who I am. I want nothing more for you, to have perfect freedom to be who you are. I’m celebrating Christmas tomorrow and working for a while to bust up the day. If it’s important for you not to work, that’s totally cool with me — so long as you don’t in turn try to forbid me from working.

In the long run the world will turn even further in my direction, and you may have to draw a bright line for your clients — like the “We’ll Be Closed” spam you’ve been getting all week.

But just for now, there’s this: Here is a big, rafter-shaking Bloodhound howl for all of the dogs who are working tomorrow. The world doesn’t stop. Why should we? If everyone around you is telling you you’re wrong to work, I’m here to tell you that nothing is more right than pursuing your own happiness.

Merry Christmas, y’all. I wish you health, wealth and happiness. Mix and match ’em at will.