esrosedotblog

HOW I HAVE LABORED

It is Labor Day.

It has largely lost its significance as a day to honor labor, both organized and not. A pillar of our democracy. The working man and woman.

Now, everyone works and thinks they are labor. Blue or white collar. And they are right. The old idea that blue collar workers were the oppressed is over. Now everyone is oppressed by the system. Pay levels have plateaued over two decades. The gap between the rich and the less rich or poor is greater than ever.

But, it I worth a pause for me to remember that I have always thought of good work as a sacrament.

I don't think that is too high flown a word.

It is a spiritual goal. To be a good worker among workers. To do my part.

This is how I was brought up.

My Dad was the example and he dragged me from being a kind of whiny little bitch to man up and become a worker.

Disciplined.

In the old days you couldn't work until you were 14 and you had to have "working papers" and everyone, everyone, got them. And went and got a job.

Now, you could say that, at that time, there was a bit of exploitation of the young to work but the new laws prevented too much of that.

My first job as a movie usher was actually illegal. It was night work but I think we fiddled the time cards.

It was 25 cents and hour and three hours work.

We cleaned up before the show, pulled the curtain open (when did they stop doing that?) and cleaned up after. If people came light we walked them down the aisle to show them the seat. You had to have your own flashlight.

I loved it. I saw every movie shown there and the theater was in a resort so they had a different film every night. Four or five nights a week.

What about school work? Well, I did it. I was the valedictorian of my class. It couldn't have been too bad to work nights and see movies.

At one point, I considered becoming a licensed projectionist. I could have done that. Funny. You almost had to be an alcoholic to do the work. I was qualified but just didn't know it.

My second job was in a drug store. I scraped bottles, stocked shelves, bagged the Kotex because, at that time, it didn't come bagged and I guess now it doesn't either but it was embarrassing to see on the shelves. Or something. Once I was manning the cash register at the prescription counter and a guy asked me for Trojans". I knew what they were but I was not allowed to admit that I did.

I learned a shitload at that job. There were kids living there for the summer who worked the fountain and other stuff. Older kids. I mean 18 to my 14. I had my first gay experiences there. Of a sort.

I worked at another place, a gift shop, the same year on off days. The guy was a bastard. He would leave the place and go off somewhere and then blame me if anything happened. There was no business. That was my fault too. He tried to get me to quit. He flattened my bike tires. Other shit. I made him fire me.

I was a bit of a punk even then.

Then, the best job. I worked in my dad's A&P weekdays during school and summers. We were a resort so I was needed. I did everything. My Dad was a great mentor. He had others supervise me but he was always in the background. It is the very best training for life work that I could have had.

My Dad quit school after 8th grade to work and he got this food market job and became a manager.

He knew the ropes. I learned at his feet.

I belonged to a Union! Teamsters affiliated. I went to meetings. It was sort of fun.

When I went to college, I worked my way through. Student dining staff. I became the Head Captain. Great. I also cleaned dorm rooms and worked behind the desk of the dorm complex. Switchboard. Mail. Great.

I don't want to make this a job-a-logue. It is just that my early work experiences formed me. Gave me aspirations. Taught me how to be with people. Retail. My god.

Labor. Great. Happy Labor Day.

Labels: work