It is hard to land a job these days. At least I believe it is.
I might have a better idea if I actually had a job.
Well, I do a lot of different things that could be considered professional, but the word “job” doesn’t really ever come to mind. If I had to fill out a job application today, I would be seriously out of luck.
Here’s how some of it would read:
1968: Little kid, delivering TV Guide (Monterey, California)
Salary: 45 cents a week. First endeavor at saving money over a period of months. Spent it all on a “Real Robin Hood Bow and Arrow” set from the back of a comic book. It was later confiscated by parents for selecting inappropriate targets (my brother).
1972: Delivering the Daily Bulletin, a single-page, smelly, mimeographed update sheet on base activities at the airbase, where we were stationed (Karamursel, Turkey)
Salary: 5 bucks a week. Mostly squandered on riotous living—burgers, pizza, fries and shakes for all my friends at the base bowling alley. Five bucks was serious do-re-mi back then!
1974: Stock guy/renovation laborer, cook for, United Discount Dept Store (Peru, Indiana)
Salary: Minimum wage, which was close to a buck an hour, as my high school job when I was working to buy my first car. Worked all the way up to jewelry clerk. Stood behind the glass counter with no idea whatsoever about the products, which were mostly watches. I
was chatty enough to engage a customer while waving to a senior employee who knew the difference between a Timex and a Bulova. I did successfully purchase the car, a 1964 Mercury. I called her Phyllis, after my English teacher, whom I would never have addressed by her first name.
1975-76: Summer de-tasseler for Pioneer Hybrid (Indiana)
Salary: $2.25 an hour. Proof that high school kids, at least back then, would do anything for money.
Designated rows of corn—about every third or fourth, if memory serves—had to have the pollen-bearing “tassel” removed. It was hot, sweaty, miserable midsummer work, but I didn’t have anything better to do. At least that’s what I kept telling myself. I needed gas money for Phyllis.
1977-78: Pizza Hut (Portales, New Mexico)
Oh, what days those were. Worked morning, noon and night because that little restaurant was the center of our universe. We wrecked delivery cars, slept on the floor after we deep-cleaned the classic shag carpet, sculpted dragons out of 30-pound batches of dough, learned how to manage unmanageable situations—like when the whole football team from ENMU showed up at the same time as Portales High’s team, all wanting dinner—and somehow, I never got fired.
1978-80: Radio Announcer, KWKA/KTQM (Clovis, New Mexico)
Began as an overnight disc jockey, wound up on mid-days. Don’t ask me how I ended up in radio. I still don’t know. But it was always a blast, and it’s not easy to believe the list of people I met and even played on the same stage with because of radio.
1980 (Summer): Irrigation Trench Specialist for the Serria Co. (Fort Knox, Kentucky)
This impressive-sounding job is more accurately described as “ditch digger.” We flew to job sites in many states, laying irrigation pipe for topsoil maintenance, mostly for golf courses. My favorite was Hobbs, New Mexico. I was sunburned the whole summer, had to fight with scorpions, rattlesnakes and curious jackrabbits as
big as a doberman. I hope those guys down in Hobbs are enjoying
their greens.
1981-82: Overnight snack bar guy at Union Underwear Co. Inc. factory. (Campbellsville, Kentucky)
College days. Hot dogs, hamburgers, ham sandwiches and chili were on the menu. We dished it up for the third shift—you could always tell which workers were on the sewing or the knitting machines by the amount of cotton fuzz in their hair. I usually got back to the dorm at 2:30 a.m. Not much studying happened in those days.
1983-87: Steeple designer. (Campbellsville, Kentucky)
I worked for Campbellsville Industries as a prelim artist—before computers or CAD—working with amazing people that brought me into the world of design. They could figure out a way to make anything.
1988-1990: Program Director, KZZO The Zoo (Clovis, New Mexico)
1990-95: KATP-FM (the KAT) Rock-and-Roll Morning Show (Amarillo)
Everybody always told me that I had a great personality for mornings. If they only knew. I hated getting up that early with every fiber of my being. But I got to play some outstanding rock music for Amarillo, and again, meet some of the finest, most gifted people in the world.
1995: Retired from corporate life due to incompetence (theirs, not mine).
1995 to present day: Road/local musician, artist, poet, student of the Bible, literature, poetry, humor and philosophy. Traveler, journeyman, learner. Essayist (for a very fine magazine).
I don’t know if that resume would get me hired anywhere, but I really like my current job.
Salary: Everything I ever wanted.
