Mike Rowe (2014)

I'd be happy to! Who provides the outfit?

I wear a European Husky.

Thanks for the encouragement. The Skilled Trades could do with a few more fans, and I'm proud to be one of them.

Regarding barriers to dirt, there have been many, and for a multitude of reasons. The segments I was most interested in doing but found the most resistance around was that of a rendering facility.

Aside from the fact that "rendering facilities" are by their very definition optically horrific, there was another concern that I had not considered.

That concern can be spelled out with the following letters.

M-O-B.

That's right - the Mob is still involved in a surprising number of rendering facilities. Why the Mob has such a rich history in garbage-related industries and rendering-related industries is a conversation beyond my pay grade.

I only know how relieved I was to finally find a rendering outfit that was not owned or operated by the Cosa Nostra.

That facility was in Northern California. And they were called North State Rendering.

To this day, I'm impressed with how brave they were in their decision to let us provide our viewers with an unvarnished look at what it takes to turn a dead cow into several hundred pounds of chicken feed.

Yes, I'm deeply proud of that day.

Many jobs appear bad at a glance, only to get much worse at a second glance.

And some jobs simply get worse and worse with every subsequent glance, which is why (of course) many people watch the program with their eyes closed.

I was never in a position to close my eyes, and consequently, I enjoyed a front-row seat to a great variety of pits, and holes, that most people simply don't know exist.

One brief example might be the interior of an ocean buoy.

In the Coast Guard, buoy tenders are responsible for hoisting these giant steel contraptions out of the ocean, and refurbishing them.

In this case, "refurbishment" means "crawling into a woefully inadequate tube not much larger than the space taken up by your shoulders, and wiggling your way like a worm into the shadowy depths whereupon you begin to remove the barnacles and various other forms of nautical life with a stick or some other improvised tool."

I could go on, but I won't.

Hmmm.

Personally, I've never had the ability to do the same job for more than a few days at a time.

Clean, dirty, exciting, or tedious.

I simply don't have the wherewithal to stick with one vocation too long.

It is, without question, a character flaw.

Regarding the Creator's larynx, I agree that he (or she) must certainly possess a rich, well-modulated baritone.

However, for reasons that involve the Screen Actor's Guild, I must be perfectly clear about the fact that it isn't mine.

I haven't received it. But I've got a brand new office. And it would look perfect on my wall, next to the buffalo head. Victoria'll set it up.

Your mother speaks the truth. It was April 1st, 1992. I introduced Item # J-H20, The Ice Pendant. It was in fact, an ice cube, dangling from a piece of twine. The most extraordinary fact was not that 12 people actually ordered the damn thing. It was that the people taking the orders at QVC believed the product was genuine.

That episode set the stage for my second firing.

You flatter me.

You also horrify me.

I say this because a quick dirty down-the-wormhole of YouTube will in fact confirm all that you have said. My days at QVC (or more specifically, my nights) set the tenor and tone for what would eventually become my "career."

I was fired 3 times in 3 years (deservedly so).

I made fun of the products, and all too often, the people who purchased them.

I did this not out of any kind of mean spiritedness, but rather a desperate attempt to remain conscious.

What I got away with from 1989-1992, on live television, will one day be a book.

And if there's any justice in this topsy-turvy industry, my former masters in the home shopping business will invite me back to the scene of the crime to sell said memoirs.

But I'm not holding my breath.

You're welcome.

I'm not really humble, I'm just not properly acquisitive.

I take more pleasure in saving than spending.

And like the Native Americans, I tend to look at "ownership" as something more akin to stewardship. In other words, the more things you own, the more things own you.

On a practical level, I find if you don't have the space for a lot of stuff, you don't wind up with a lot of stuff.

For a while, when I agonized over maintaining the illusion of fitness, I committed myself to a routine that centered around Burpees.

Also known as "the Prison Workout," Burpees require one to drop from a standing position into a squat. Then you kick your legs backward, and do a push-up. Then, you return to the squatting position. Then, you leap into the air as high as you can. Then you do it again.

And again.

And again.

Until you are either

A) No longer fat

or

B) Vomiting uncontrollably.

The end.

Okay.

At the risk of sounding overly earnest (and too metaphorical), I'm going to say: the welder.

Welders not only work their asses off, they're in high demand, and critical to polite society. The entire world, including our infrastructure, and the building in which I currently find myself, is held together with welds.

Remove the welder retroactively from the species, and the whole thing shits the bed.

Parenthetically, I could say the same about plumbers, electricians, and pastry chefs.

Hahahaha!

I'm not exactly sure where I am, to be perfectly honest.

However, and I'm beginning to think this is a phenomenon unique to me, I've begun to notice people sleeping behind me wherever I go.

HOWEVER, I should add - as I examine the photo in question - the gentlemen might not be sleeping.

I think he may be exercising and resting between reps.

The short answer is: perception.

The number of people who depend upon a workable infrastructure and a skilled trade force are coincidentally the same number of people who currently inhabit the planet.

For a long list of reasons, parents, teachers, and guidance counselors have begun to emphasize one specific form of education. At the expense of all the others.

In this country, it's widely believed that a 4 year degree for the most people.

Unfortunately, that's insane.

Of the 3 million available jobs today, less than 20% require a 4 year degree.

The rest require training, and a willingness to learn a skill that's actually in-demand. On top of everything else, we have student loans outstanding in excess of $1 Trillion dollars.

In short, we're lending money we don't have to kids who can't pay it back so they can educate themselves for jobs that no longer exist.

That should probably stop.

In my industry, several well-known terms are currently in the process of being redefined.

Terms like "non-fiction" and "unscripted."

These words no longer mean what they used to mean.

Today, the Ducks have a Dynasty, the Amish have a Mafia, and until very recently, Honey had a Boo-Boo.

These programs, in spite of their popularity, all aired under the "nonfiction" umbrella. And yet, they all have writer's rooms.

The truth is, it's become very difficult to produce a show with no second takes, and no script, because the people in charge of putting them on the air would prefer to control them, in the same way an executive might be able to control an episode of THE BIG BANG THEORY.

It occurred to me that networks like FOX and CNN were not just news outlets, but fundamentally, nonfiction outlets.

CNN, in particular, was very interested in exploring alternative forms of programming, very similar to DIRTY JOBS.

In short, they've been great to work with.

And as long as headlines like Ebola, and ISIS, and terrorism, and natural disasters don't completely dominate the landscape, I think there will be room for SOMEBODY'S GOTTA DO IT and other shows like it.

To be perfectly honest, this is only the second time I've been here.

In fact, this is really the first time I've been here.

My previous AMAs was video, back in 2008. I've been a supporter for a long time.

I'd say in general - I'm kind of late to the social media party.

But over the last year, I've taken the Facebook thing pretty seriously.

And based on the staggering wit and intelligence I've seen thus far in queries like your own, I recon I'll be back.

I do.

I'm a big fan of unexpected juxtapositions - in life as well as on television.

To burst forth with a few bars of Puccini or Verdi while crawling through some nameless river of shit is precisely the kind of thing that creates the cognitive dissonance I strive to infect my friends and viewers with.

Also, I find that quoting famous literature in equally absurd moments and situations can bring about the same effect.

Great question.

In general, any day that begins with a man handing you a sledgehammer and concludes with the same man taking the sledgehammer away 12 hours later is going to be a difficult day.

Toward that end, I could tell you stories about railroad workers, gandy-dancers, marble miners, or a variety of specialized construction jobs.

However, the absolute worst in terms of physical discomfort combined with soul-deadening ennui involves the cleaning of the drum on a cement mixer.

No one really thinks about it, but these trucks are in constant use.

And every time the drum spins, a thin layer of cement hardens in the interior. So by the end of the day, the inside of the drum on a cement mixer is essentially solid.

So the job in question requires a man to wedge himself inside with a pneumatic jackhammer.

Yeah.

The sound is indescribable. And the claustrophobia is off the charts.

Essentially, you lay there on your back directing the jackhammer over your head and all around you. You wear ear protection, a respirator, and goggles.

But NONE of it makes a damn bit of difference.

Because that job hurts on every level.

That guy sleeping behind me.

He really makes it look like fun.

Too many to mention.

Although I will mention one.

There is a farm, in Northwest Indiana, called "Fair Oaks." Mike and Sue run one of the largest dairies in the Midwest. We first shot there back in 2006, and Mike trusted me to not only deliver a dozen cows on a cold winter's evening, he allowed me to perform a cesarean.

After that, he invited the crew and I to stay with them for the evening, and several days afterward. Which we did.

To this day, none of us are allowed to fly over Indiana without first landing in Chicago, and driving to Fair Oaks to drink their wine, and their delicious milk. But mostly, their wine.

1) Typically, I don't use words like "favorite" to describe dirty jobs. But in general, the best ones are always the ones with the most interesting people.

Bob the Pig Farmer.

Jane the Marine Biologist.

Frank the Bridge Painter.

There were 300, and to be honest, they were all pretty great.

Regarding number 2, the only novels I presently narrate are of the pop-up variety.

I might be inclined (in the interest of shameless self-promotion) to sing the theme song from SOMEBODY'S GOTTA DO IT - which is a fantastic program alluded to in some prior questions, that can be seen this evening at 9 PM on CNN!

(I wrote the theme song, and fans of the show sing it - so much of SGDI is programmed by the fans, it only seemed natural for me to ask them to help sing the theme song).

If you want to hear it for yourself, 80 different versions now exist at http://mikerowe.com

(*We're still taking submissions!)

Guilty.

Hahahaha!

Coincidentally, you should watch my new show for the same reason that I enjoy HAM.

Do you see what I did there?

I tried to create an - albeit tenuous - juxtaposition between my propensity to be a "ham" on SOMEBODY'S GOTTA DO IT, while at the same time, embracing all the delicious, sweet, porky nitrates most often associated with that delectable, glazed honey-baked ham.

Now I suppose, we could have a conversation about whether or not honey-baked ham is technically a "deli meat."

But I'm not going to do that.

I'm simply going to conclude this fascinating and unforgettable hour with a gentle reminder that SOMEBODY'S GOTTA DO IT not only tastes every bit as good as the aforementioned ham, but can be seen tonight on CNN at 9 PM.

If there is any justice in this world, or among you reddites, or redditors, or whatever you call yourselves, you will join me in front of whatever screen you are partial to - and pour yourself the beverage of your choice and enjoy a ham sandwich with me.

Yes.

Doug is back. Paler, and more bitter than ever.

The once-good-natured director of photography has now become a thoroughly disgruntled albino.

Who I still respect, and admire.

Chris Jones is also back. He, too, appears older than ever, and profoundly disenchanted with life in general.

Combined, the 3 of them make for a truly indispensable triumvirate.

I did go to a guidance counselor in high school, his name was Mr. Dunbar, and he gave me the worst advice I've ever heard.

He told me that my desire to attend a 2 year community college was "beneath my potential."

As it turns out, the 2 year school I ultimately attended allowed me to experiment, and explore, all kinds of studies that I simply would not have been able to afford at the university.

Consequently, I got on the road that brought me to where I'm sitting now.

Although, to be fair, I should point out that the road also led through several miles of sewer pipes.

Tough call.

But the following watering holes beckon.

• The Horse You Came In On
• The Whistling Oyster
• John Stevens
• The Mount Royal Tavern
• and anyplace that still serves crab cakes without a bunch of unnecessary filler.

The library is also nice.

A fine suggestion.

Medical fields, in general, are complicated.

Because of privacy issues.

HOWEVER, if I can find a way to make the trials & tribulations of a heart / lung machine manufacturer compelling... I'll be there.

I refuse to direct.

Heh. Favorite dinosaur.

Personally, and I say this with no disrespect to lizards or reptiles, I try not to get too attached to anything that's been extinct for more than 60 million years. I find it leads to a kind of... malaise.

Ain't nobody got time for that.

Well, I narrated GHOSTHUNTERS for 8 seasons.

All I can tell you for sure regarding the paranormal is that there's good money in it.

Someone had the good sense to post his picture on the interwebs.

Someone else had the poor judgement to forward that photo to me.

There was something in the dog's eye that caught my own.

The rest is... canine history.