Speaking of days gone by... first jobs

DannyDoughboy said:
Growing up in Indiana farm community, it was, baling hay, working fields, and assisting various other farm type activities! $1.00 per hour! Would love to hear complaints from kids nowadays having to do that kind of labor! lol
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I was born in Greensburg and spent the early years of my childhood in Crawfordsville (near the 4H fair grounds) before we moved to Virginia in '63. We weren't farmers.
 

In The Sticks said:
I cut grass and delivered the newspaper back when DC had an afternoon paper (The Evening Star.)

My first out-of-high school job was working at a Dart Drug for $1.80/hour. They rapidly put me in charge of the Beer & Wine Department. I would decide what to order and how much to order for each weekly sale (Budweiser @ $5/case.) I would set up displays and make posters. Back then drinking age was 21...I was 18 (and looked 14.) People would actually ask me for advice on wines!!! I also had regular stock clerk & cashier duties.
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Wow, just wow, that's over the top responsibility for such a young chap! Good on ya for being your best and doing well at it! :)
 
Aunt Marg said:
Wow, just wow, that's over the top responsibility for such a young chap! Good on ya for being your best and doing well at it! :)
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It's funny, I ended up going to night classes and working in Purchasing and Inventory Management for the first 20+ years of my white collar career.

I've always been fascinated to hear Life Path stories when interviewing people or talking to business owners.
 

In The Sticks said:
It's funny, I ended up going to night classes and working in Purchasing and Inventory Management for the first 20+ years of my white collar career.

I've always been fascinated to hear Life Path stories when interviewing people or talking to business owners.
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I'm thinking with all of your experience in the drug and liquor business, you missed your calling to become a pharmaceutical giant big-wig. :)
 
DannyDoughboy said:
Growing up in Indiana farm community, it was, baling hay, working fields, and assisting various other farm type activities! $1.00 per hour! Would love to hear complaints from kids nowadays having to do that kind of labor! lol
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Did you ever de-tassel corn? That was the go-to job in my area of Indiana. I did it for one day and then decided babysitting my younger sisters (for which I did NOT get paid) was vastly preferable.
 
jujube said:
Did you ever de-tassel corn? That was the go-to job in my area of Indiana. I did it for one day and then decided babysitting my younger sisters (for which I did NOT get paid) was vastly preferable.
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Oh my word, the free babysitting! Oh yes, I've lived it, too! No pay, but I enjoyed perks every now and then for doing it, so I couldn't complain.

Jujube. Were your sisters babies when you sat them?
 
Aunt Marg said:
Oh my word, the free babysitting! Oh yes, I've lived it, too! No pay, but I enjoyed perks every now and then for doing it, so I couldn't complain.

Jujube. Were your sisters babies when you sat them?
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I think my youngest sister was about four or five when my mom went to work full time and I started babysitting in the summers. I was probably 14 and too young to get a drivers license, but I drove us all to the pool 3-4 times a week anyway. The hardest part was having to keep track of them all at the pool and not being able to relax with my friends and flirt with the lifeguards.
 
jujube said:
I think my youngest sister was about four or five when my mom went to work full time and I started babysitting in the summers. I was probably 14 and too young to get a drivers license, but I drove us all to the pool 3-4 times a week anyway. The hardest part was having to keep track of them all at the pool and not being able to relax with my friends and flirt with the lifeguards.
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You sound like you would have made for a great older sister! :)

Your mom was fortunate to have you.
 
jujube said:
Did you ever de-tassel corn? That was the go-to job in my area of Indiana. I did it for one day and then decided babysitting my younger sisters (for which I did NOT get paid) was vastly preferable.
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No, that is one thing I never had was the honor of doing....I think that job was possibly meant for others/ our group was more of the chore group/ if that makes any sense,, lol
 
Aunt Marg said:
  • Do you recall what your first job was?
  • Remember what you got paid?
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Well, hell...I've posted my first job story prolly a half dozen times

It hasn't changed

But, for you new folks, here it is (y'all others, there's that handy scroll feature);

First Jobs

My very first ‘job’ was hoeing roses for an ol’ guy at the end of the mountain road up from our place.
He was a prize winning grower, lots of entries and ribbons and medals and plaques from all over and of course Portland, the City of Roses.

As a teacher, the crotchety ol’ **** was not the gracious diplomat he was when accepting an award.

‘Quit pickin’ at it like a goddamn woman, goddammit.’
‘Gimme that hook.’
He’d jerk the ‘hook’ outta my hand and commence to beat the holy shit outta those roses.
Apparently the ones that survived became resilient and hardy…..and beautiful.

The hook was not much more than a smallish three prong pitchfork bent 90°.

‘You don’t stop till it’s rainin’ like a cow peein’ on a flat rock.’

That was the work schedule.

And off he’d go in his dilapidated ’49 ford sedan.
The engine sounded like it would blow apart any minute, pistons rattling around, tappets tapping a beat, zero oil.
Only drove it a few hundred yards, just to harass us.

One of the old hands said, ‘just hoe like mad until you get over the hill, then you can take a little break’.
The old gent seemed to know what he was talkin’ about, he’d been there a long time.
Back permanently stuck at 45°.
Kinda bugged me….cause when it was rainin’ like a cow peein’ on a flat rock, we’d all beat feet over to the walnut tree….here he’d trudge…and there he’d stand…..bent.
His hands were stuck in a hoe holding position.
Not big on talkin’.

‘How long you been doin’ this?’

‘Some time now.’

‘Huh.’


It was $.60 an hour…10 hours a day.

I’d been there just a few days, and hoein’ like mad.
The hill just a half hour of back breaking hacks away.
Once over the hill, outta view from the ol’ guy’s shack, I straightened up and leaned on my hook.
Just stared into the sun.
Rolled a smoke.
A smoke never tasted so good.
I was just getting’ into a mind filled tryst with Sophia Loren when I heard, ‘That’s enough of that, git offa my property.’

I turned around and there he was, leanin’ on them crutches.
How in hell had he snuck up on me?
Had he crutched his way up the hill, knowing full well what I was doin’?
At first I was startled, and maybe a bit scared.
Then I got mad, and with the knowledge that several fields of hay bales were just waiting for me, I headed right for him.
His expression changed from sneering disgust to alarm.
‘Don’t worry ol’ man. I’m not gonna beatcha.
You’ve done enough of that yerself.
Here’s yer hook.’

So, yeah, I got fired from my first real job.
 
Gary O' said:
Well, hell...I've posted my first job story prolly a half dozen times

It hasn't changed

But, for you new folks, here it is (y'all others, there's that handy scroll feature);

First Jobs

My very first ‘job’ was hoeing roses for an ol’ guy at the end of the mountain road up from our place.
He was a prize winning grower, lots of entries and ribbons and medals and plaques from all over and of course Portland, the City of Roses.

As a teacher, the crotchety ol’ **** was not the gracious diplomat he was when accepting an award.

‘Quit pickin’ at it like a goddamn woman, goddammit.’
‘Gimme that hook.’
He’d jerk the ‘hook’ outta my hand and commence to beat the holy shit outta those roses.
Apparently the ones that survived became resilient and hardy…..and beautiful.

The hook was not much more than a smallish three prong pitchfork bent 90°.

‘You don’t stop till it’s rainin’ like a cow peein’ on a flat rock.’

That was the work schedule.

And off he’d go in his dilapidated ’49 ford sedan.
The engine sounded like it would blow apart any minute, pistons rattling around, tappets tapping a beat, zero oil.
Only drove it a few hundred yards, just to harass us.

One of the old hands said, ‘just hoe like mad until you get over the hill, then you can take a little break’.
The old gent seemed to know what he was talkin’ about, he’d been there a long time.
Back permanently stuck at 45°.
Kinda bugged me….cause when it was rainin’ like a cow peein’ on a flat rock, we’d all beat feet over to the walnut tree….here he’d trudge…and there he’d stand…..bent.
His hands were stuck in a hoe holding position.
Not big on talkin’.

‘How long you been doin’ this?’

‘Some time now.’

‘Huh.’


It was $.60 an hour…10 hours a day.

I’d been there just a few days, and hoein’ like mad.
The hill just a half hour of back breaking hacks away.
Once over the hill, outta view from the ol’ guy’s shack, I straightened up and leaned on my hook.
Just stared into the sun.
Rolled a smoke.
A smoke never tasted so good.
I was just getting’ into a mind filled tryst with Sophia Loren when I heard, ‘That’s enough of that, git offa my property.’

I turned around and there he was, leanin’ on them crutches.
How in hell had he snuck up on me?
Had he crutched his way up the hill, knowing full well what I was doin’?
At first I was startled, and maybe a bit scared.
Then I got mad, and with the knowledge that several fields of hay bales were just waiting for me, I headed right for him.
His expression changed from sneering disgust to alarm.
‘Don’t worry ol’ man. I’m not gonna beatcha.
You’ve done enough of that yerself.
Here’s yer hook.’

So, yeah, I got fired from my first real job.
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You're a true classic, Gary, and I love your company and your light-hearted comedic side! :)

Thank you greatly for sharing!
 
Aunt Marg said:
You're a true classic, Gary, and I love your company and your light-hearted comedic side!
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Hey...it's an easy audience...everbod's stuck inside, wearing their thumbs out on remotes.

But, fine lady, I do appreciate yer appreciation

If you get bored to tears. or have developed insomnia because of irregular hours, might I suggest a thread of mine in this very days gone by dept

Vivid Memories of Childhood and Beyond

You'll be asleep in no time
 
Gary O' said:
Hey...it's an easy audience...everbod's stuck inside, wearing their thumbs out on remotes.

But, fine lady, I do appreciate yer appreciation

If you get bored to tears. or have developed insomnia because of irregular hours, might I suggest a thread of mine in this very days gone by dept

Vivid Memories of Childhood and Beyond

You'll be asleep in no time
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Why thank you, Gary, it sounds like a well-worth read! :)
 
Gary O' said:
It has it's spots

(don't thank me just yet..... I get a bit fractured from time to time....it comes outa the keyboard on it's own)
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Well, now I know why letters and words and such are occasionally found to be missing in my work, and here all this time I thought it was me. 😊
 
I worked part time in the garden shop of the original Ames Dept Store. I filled in for the regular guy, "Lefty" who was "Italian". I had no knowledge of gardening what so ever. One day, a woman came in and wanted to know, "Where was Vigoro?" To my ears that sounded like an Italian name. She must mean Lefty. So, I told her that he was off today. When the manager came out I mentioned that a woman was asking for Lefty. Since Lefty was kind of a dog, the manager wanted to know more. When I told him what I said to the woman, he went down on one knee, laughing.

vigoro-plant-flower-fertilizer-124250-64_1000.jpg
 

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