Tag: jobs

My first seven jobs

No, I never worked in a coal mine.

coalmineThe meme My First Seven Jobs has been showing up on social media a lot in the last couple of months. I had avoided it until I read an article about what your first seven jobs say about you, and then the exercise intrigued me. And hey, I need a Labor Day weekend post.

I am a little bit fuzzy on what constitutes a job. When your father drags you on some task, for which you are not being paid, I’m not counting that. And having looked at other people’s lists, I’m actually adding a couple that I would not otherwise have considered.

1. Newspaper delivery of the Press newspaper, Binghamton, NY. Six evenings plus Sunday morning for about two years, a job I inherited from my godparents’ grandson Walter. Used the money to join the Capitol Record Club and buy Beatles’ albums.

2. Babysitter. I did this less than a half dozen times, never for more than two kids, two boys who lived near my grandmother. I was pretty good at it, I seem to recall.

3. Singer, with my father and sister Leslie, off and on for four years. We didn’t make a lot of money, as we did a lot of gigs for free.

4. Page at the Binghamton Public Library, for seven months when I was sixteen, a job I inherited from my parents’ godson, Walter. Same Walter. Helped people with the microfilm machine and retrieved back issue magazines. When it wasn’t busy, read Billboard and Psychology Today.

5. Assembly line worker at IBM Endicott. I graduated from high school in January, then worked there from March until early September. I remember the boss wanted me to stay, but I was heading to college.

6. The box factory, which I did for two weeks, longer than either of my two predecessors.

7. Janitor at some department store in New Paltz. Being a janitor was also my eighth job, in Binghamton City Hall.

No, my first seven jobs did not include working in a coal mine. Nor did Lee Dorsey‘s. Or any of the members of Devo.

Americans Don’t Miss Manufacturing — They Miss Unions

Appeals Court Affirms that a Union’s Use of Inflatable Rat Is Protected Free Speech

 

The poor tellers

I ended up five cents under, and spent nearly a half hour not finding the error.

Of all the recent stories about economic inequality in America I’ve read lately, this one jumped out at me: 1 out of 3 Bank Tellers in New York on Public Assistance. I’ve never worked in food service in any capacity, or in a large retail store, but I was a bank teller, for a month.

It was the winter of 1977-1978, at the end of a not great year, in which I lived in Charlotte, NC; Binghamton, NY briefly; Jackson Heights, Queens, NYC, NY; and New Paltz, NY, before drifting up the Hudson River to crash with friend Uthaclena and his first wife, and their two dogs (his I loved, hers, not so much).

After a year of being underemployed, I secured a job working at the Albany Savings Bank in downtown Albany. I was a teller in February 1978, making $6,000 a year. Every day I had $9K in my drawer, more on Wednesday state paydays and Fridays. It was depressing, getting all dressed up in a dress shirt and tie I couldn’t afford to look “professional,” with the “chance of upward mobility.”

My trainer was a former teller; she was a decent person, and undoubtedly a good teller, but a lousy, and impatient, teacher. When I finally got on the window, after the training, on the second day, I ended up five cents under and spent nearly a half-hour not finding the error.

This made it easy to quit, with three days’ notice, to take a job with the Schenectady Arts Council’s government-funded program to bring arts into the schools, starting the beginning of March. I was the bookkeeper, but it wasn’t the same level of pressure. Didn’t have to wear a tie. And I was making $8,200 per year, not a princely sum, but way better than at ASB.

The downside, ultimately, is that the funding abruptly ended in January 1979, leaving me unemployed for nearly five months, but it was definitely the better choice.
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You should watch Money on the Mind if you can. In nine minutes, it addresses the differences even perceived wealth differences can make.

Jaquandor’s liberal screed, which I agree with.

Ramblin' with Roger
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