Deserve More Than A Day!

We just got done celebrating National Tradesmen Day on September 19th, and in about a month we’ll all pretend to care again on October 28th for National First Responders Day. Two dates on a bloated calendar that looks like it was designed by a bored marketing intern hopped up on Monster Energy and Buzzfeed listicles. Two little crumbs tossed to the very people who literally keep us alive and keep civilization from turning into a real-life episode of The Walking Dead. And then, what do we do? We go right back to arguing about pumpkin spice lattes, doomscrolling through TikTok dance challenges, and binge-watching Love Is Blind like the fate of Western civilization depends on who can’t see their fiancé until Netflix cashes the check.

We live in a country that hands out “national days” like candy at a parade. National Donut Day. National Cat Day. National Talk Like a Pirate Day. Fun, harmless, TikTok-friendly fluff. But when it comes to the people who actually keep the lights on, both literally and metaphorically, our first responders and our tradespeople? They get one lousy day out of 365. That’s not gratitude. That’s a participation ribbon with sprinkles.

And listen, first responders are the real deal. Firefighters, cops, EMTs, they’re sprinting into burning buildings while the rest of us are sprinting to the couch to make sure we don’t miss the first five minutes of Selling Sunset. They run toward the chaos we spend our entire lives trying to avoid. They deal with trauma the rest of us couldn’t stomach for five minutes, and we repay them with one annual “thank you” that barely trends on social media. Without them, lives are lost. End of story.

But the second responders? Oh, now we’re getting into the unsung backbone of civilization. The trades. The electricians, linemen, plumbers, carpenters, welders, HVAC techs, steelworkers. These folks don’t just make life comfortable, they make life possible. You think I’m exaggerating? Kill the power for a week and watch your neighborhood turn into Mad Max: Beyond the HOA Covenant. No lights, no water, no food refrigeration, no sanitation. Civilization doesn’t stumble, it faceplants into the dirt like a drunk frat boy trying to sprint across the lawn at 3 a.m.

History doesn’t lie. The 1977 New York City blackout? In hours the place looked like a deleted scene from The Purge. Looting, fires, chaos, all because the lights went out. Or take medieval Europe before modern plumbing, half the continent wiped out by the Black Plague because sanitation was a rumor and water was basically a game of bacterial Russian roulette. You want to see how fragile this all is? Pull one trade out of the mix. No plumbers? You’re bathing in disease. No HVAC? Grandma’s either baking in a Texas summer or freezing in a Minnesota winter. No welders and steelworkers? Good luck crossing that bridge or stocking that warehouse. The people we relegate to one day of token appreciation are literally the ones keeping us from having to learn how to skin squirrels to survive.

And here’s the kicker, you’ve already leaned on at least five trades before you even finished breakfast. You flipped on the lights, flushed the toilet, opened the fridge, drove on the road, and walked into a building. That’s electricians, plumbers, carpenters, masons, and pavers all before 8 a.m. These folks are invisible until something breaks, and then suddenly they’re the cavalry riding in at midnight while we’re whining about the Wi-Fi being down.

So one day? Give me a break. That’s lip service. That’s clapping for the pilot after a safe landing, like you don’t do it every time because deep down you know your life depends on it. First responders and second responders aren’t one-day heroes, they’re everyday heroes. Without them, this whole rickety experiment we call modern life collapses faster than a Jenga tower at a toddler’s birthday party.

So what needs to change? Stop treating trades like a “Plan B.” Stop letting Hollywood crank out another influencer-with-a-ring-light series while the real heroes are out there busting their backs to make sure your toilet flushes and your bridge doesn’t collapse. Schools should celebrate kids going into trades like they celebrate college signings. A kid announcing he’s becoming a welder deserves the same standing ovation as the one signing with Alabama football. Media should stop using trades as a punchline and start showing them as the backbone of civilization. And we need to stop waiting until September 19th or October 28th to say thank you. Every switch you flip, every glass of water you drink, every building you enter is another reminder that your life is running on someone else’s calloused hands.

Here’s the bottom line: first responders save our lives. Second responders make sure we even have lives worth saving. Without them, life doesn’t get inconvenient. It gets medieval. Two days out of 365 isn’t recognition. It’s an insult. They don’t need token calendar squares. They need a culture that wakes up and finally admits: without them, there is no 365 to celebrate.