"The Sweatshop Sublime," Sammy and Me

Robbins' "The Sweatshop Sublime" sparked two distinct lines of thought for me, one literary and one more personal.  On  the literary side, I think of Sammy and how he fits into the division of labor described by Robbins.  Some might suggest Sammy doesn't fit into any social division of "labor" at all, because he mostly avoids any sort of work in How Late it Was, How Late, but I believe this conclusion overlooks that Sammy is a part of society, there is a job Sammy was meant to do, but he is incapable of doing it (not his "real" job as a laborer, but his "ideal" job).  For all his faults (which are glaring), Sammy has heart and he is a fast-talker--if nothing else, he would have made a great wine-and-dine-type salesman.  He has all the rudimentary tools to be good at sales, with the exception of his language (and the social prejudices associated with Scottish dialect in the U.K.).  Even if it wasn't sales, there has to be something Sammy is good at (or enjoys doing), that would match with a job--a spot for Sammy in the hierarchy of the social divisions of labor.  Where it all comes apart for Sammy (most likely) is when his language or his past mistakes (crimes) block access to Sammy finding a fulfilling role in the labor market.  Society and Sammy's personality are the root of Sammy's condition in How Late, the real question is which is more responsible for his position, or are the responsibilities equal?

On a more personal level, after reading Robbins' entire article, I realize I have experienced something similar to what he is describing in relation to experiencing the sublime of the production process, but also the sublime of the social division of labor.  On the production side, I have often considered the exceptional chain of events which led to the creation of an object, and how it ended up in my possession.  More than once I have been assembling some cheap Wal-Mart furniture and discovered a thick, black hair nestled in the plastic wrapping with the assorted tools and hardware, and wondered about the owner of that thick, black hair, and their status in life, and how it contrasts to mine.  But on the labor side, I have also experienced the cold-hearted nature of the corporate retail scene and the injustice of cronyism.  Through this experience, I developed a sensitivity for those who, like myself, are (or were), cogs in wheels of machines that we can neither see, nor understand, yet control our destiny.