#80 - First Job, Worst Job, Dream Job

Sunday Scribbling:

#80 - First Job, Worst Job, Dream Job

Reflecting back on my growing up years, I've come to the conclusion that my parents, my mother in particular, enjoyed the fact that children, boys especially, were mischief prone. When ever I got caught doing something mischievous, and the younger you are the more often you get caught, She would ground me and and during the period of grounding I was assigned various "jobs;" cleaning my room, washing the dishes, mowing the grass and just a variety of house and yard chores. Even though there was no formal pay for these jobs, they must be considered my first jobs.

Growing older and stronger I sought out jobs that brought me some remuneration; snow shoveling, car washing, cellar cleaning, leaf raking, and the like. When I was twelve I applied for my Newspaper Carrier Permit - Newspaper Carrier Permits, also known as AT-23 (buff paper), are for minors ages 11 to 18 who deliver, or sell and deliver, newspapers, shopping papers, or periodicals to homes or places of business. The minors must carry the permit while working.
I delivered newspapers until the age of 14. At that time I became involved with high school sport teams and the after school practices ruled out any further newspaper deliveries. Newspaper delivery boy was my first paying job.

I was fortunate to be hired by a local farmer during the summer of my fourteenth year. I worked as a farm worker 'til I graduated from high school. It was good, healthy, hard work. Earning my own money appealed to me and I've been doing it ever since.

Many jobs have come my way and I can't say any were "worse" than any others. I've enjoyed every job I've ever had, it's just that some paid better than others and for that reason I kept trying new and different jobs. Having many and varied jobs taught me that I'd probably be best suited to a career that involved close interaction with other people. You'll notice here that I changed terms from job to career. A job is something I did for money and enjoyed it mostly. A career is something I've done because it fulfills me and It also provided an income.

I love my career that I've been doing for 38 years. It's had it's ups and downs to be sure, and It hasn't always paid that much in dollars. It has always paid immeasurably in personal satisfaction.


Looking back, I do recall having a dream, a dream job if you will: In the middle of my senior year of high school my mother asked me what plans I had for the future. Up to that point I hadn't applied to any schools of higher learning. My heartfelt and honest answer to her was, "I'm going to play baseball for the New York Yankees! I'm going to replace Yogi Berra." Mind you now, no scouts had ever come to see my superior baseball skills exhibited, but I was sure that they would see the error of their ways and this season, my last in high school, they would come and offer me a contract. My mother pshawed me and turned away in disgust at my lack of serious response. The thing is, I was serious. Not logical, not intelligent, and not practical, but serious? oh yes! I'd played baseball for 10 years and I was darned good. Was I good enough to play in th majors? I doubt it.
That was my dream... and in retrospect I'm glad it didn't work out.

Did I ever tell you about when I was a bartender?