Now, some people rule small towns because, simply, they are so essential and they don't take advantage of this, but rather serve with honesty and father-like care.
Mike has a last name, but in Lander he is simply known as "Mike At City Plumbing." City Plumbing, run by Mrs. Mike At City Plumbing and other guys that look like Young Mikes At City Plumbing, is in a King Spot, right downtown on Main St, nestled between Neat Repeat and the Lander Journal; the City Plumbing sign is just simply, more than a fixture: it is a fixture. I can't really imagine Lander without the blue and white fifties-era sign, and I've always thought that Mike keeps the store the way it is, because he doesn't really need any more than that...his business is not about flash. or novelty, but about small-town connections and help.
In the same vein, Mike's front windows do not sport the coolest new toilet or shower, nor do they have posters of ladies smiling at flowing water in a sunny, immaculately empty?! (beyond the proverbial fruit bowl) kitchen. Mike seems to know that no one really cares that much--plumbing should be neither seen nor heard--and this is a good philosophy. Instead, he's got pictures of Old Lander--lots of old 4th parades, the biggest event in Lander. I like one photo, from probably about the time the camera made it out here: A row of cowboys--and I mean, down-and-dirty, decked out real ones, with faded blue jeans (from work) matching the ghostly-looking, intense, faded-blue eyes--stand one-legged cocked, relaxing, watching the parade. One of them is looking quite intensely, almost angrily, at one of the people passing by in the parade. If you follow his eye gaze, you come to rest upon an Indian--a real one, decked out in the amazing soft-leather beaded outfit, with a strong and beautiful profile and long, black braids, and feathers aloft. He looks like he is part of the horse he is riding, and he sits tall and proud, as he passes the cowboys.
I've spent awhile looking at the Old-Timer ghosts in Mike's pictures before going in to talk about plumbing issues.
Inside the store--well, it looks more like a workshop sort of organized into shelves. This is a working place, not a store, really. Mike has put up signs around, like: "Got complants? Go to Helen Waite." As I wait for Mike, I look through his other funny cartoons pasted to the back of his computer; finally, here comes the Man. He is a big and warm bear with blue eyes and a square Scandinavian face. "How was Australia?" he guffaws, "Glad to be home?"
"Oh, yeah," I say, liking being home more because I just remembered there's lots of people here like Mike, who remember you, and who somehow remember that you left and went across the planet, and wonder why on earth you'd want to do that.
He says, "So, listen, I'll talk to Polly over there and we'll fix up that damn boiler. You know, it is cheaper in the end to do it once and do it right."
Mike's got lots of time-tested common-sensisms like that and I like each one.
Why are plumbers rulers of small towns? Well, it isn't just any plumber--the only other plumber in town seems to get a kick out of gouging people when Mike isn't available. Mike, himself, is someone who will go to bat for you with insurance adjusters and will do exactly what is needed, not more, not less. He's honest and kind, and plays a mean games of racquetball, too.
Mike and the Young Mikes see you, often, at your worst moments, when you've been fighting with sh-% for hours and they come and save you; and they are no luxury in a small town in the middle of nowhere when the temps can go down to 30 below, and you need that boiler working and the pipes unfrozen. You're absolutely dependent upon them at times, completely helpless. So, you see, you can't do the Big City "Oh I'll just shop around"--in a small town; you do well to know Mike and be as honest and courteous with him as he is with you.
Home owners know that plumbers know your house better than you do--Mike also knows about our house in the years before we owned it. "Oh, yeah, I remember that weird dual garage/laundry room heater in there..."
Plumbers also deal with the waste and the heat and the water, all very basic things to keep our home a home and not a cold sewage swamp. They are like priests, in a way...okay, don't try to lynch me yet, Catholics. Remember that Hanging Tree is gone?
How are plumbers like priests? Or priests like plumbers? I'm thinking of priests in the confessional; a plumber, like a priest, helps you deal with your waste, with your most basic need of keeping things moving and healthy and warm and all that. Spiritual growth, charity, grace flowing...
You need a plumber, like a priest, in your worst moments, when you're the most helpless...and it helps, more than that, it gives you hope when you find a plumber or a priest that you feel comfortable with, whose advice you trust.
Okay, I know they are different, too. I actually got this comparison from a great priest, who told me once, when I was a new Catholic, that being a priest in the confessional is like being a sewer pipe. It showed me how difficult that vocation must be at times.
Mike At City Plumbing, along with his family, help keep Lander running and happy. So make sure you visit City Plumbing and look at the photos in the window if there's a sign on the door saying, "Back at---."
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