Hi-Ho, Hi-Ho

Ah, work. What makes us whole. How we provide for our families. What we do or what we HAVE to do. Have you ever heard the phrase, “find a job you enjoy and you’ll never work again?” Crap, really. I’m not really opposed to work, per se. I would just rather deal with individuals on an individual basis. I guess I’ve become a bit callused working for a huge corporation for the last several years. When I first got into banking, I truly believed I made a difference. And it seemed like my employer really cared. We weren’t pushing things, we were helping people buy their first home, get a new car or save for college or retirement. VERY important things. Then when I moved into business banking we were helping people grow their business and establish lines of credit. Again, VERY important things. We did it because it helped the customer and made sense. Now it seems like whenever you go into a bank your are attacked by bankers like a pack of wild dogs on a three legged cat. You’re being sold stuff you already said no to and it gets aggravating. It seems whenever the other banks started losing money my employer (who was very conservative and who I will always consider the “winner” of the banking wars) tried to emulate them. Weird. What I’m getting to here is, even if you find a job you love, it can change. And if you are in corporate America, chances are it will. I’ve been on medical leave for about six weeks now. While having lunch with one of my daughters the other day she asked me if there was something I wanted to share with her. I said no and asked her why and she said I just seem so much happier and I didn’t yell at her nearly as much as I used to (I wasn’t aware I ever yelled at her). She said I seemed much easier going. The G/F says the same. I guess a six week vacation from corporate America will do that to you. I’m really disappointed in myself to let my work stress me out so much I take it out on loved ones.

At a recent gathering of old friends a buddy of mine was asked what he did. This is his reply………”I sit on a big wooden bench, with an oar that I keep rowing. All the while I am putting neo-sporin on my back from the whip marks from when I don’t row fast enough. There is a little man on a platform above me that bangs a drum.” Classic. (I want to give the person who I quoted credit for this without saying his name….if you’ve known me for longer than 25 years then you know him as the cool drummer in the HS band). I’m going to go out on a limb here and say he hasn’t found what he enjoys either. But I happen to know he is still good at what he does and it is tolerable for him. That said, I seriously doubt anyone would enjoy cleaning port-a-cans, but someone’s got to do it. The same could be said for flipping burgers or working at the bank. I guess what I’m looking for is the level of disgust we can tolerate for the compensation earned. And if I am not moved by what I am doing and I do it anyway for the money, doesn’t that just make me a whore? Probably not. I remember when my daughters were really young. We struggled terribly. At one point I was working a 7am-3pm M-F job, a 3pm-11pm M-F job and mowing lawns and delivering pizzas on weekends. I must have been a big whore then?! (Still think I had it better than the mom though! Just imagine twins with croup!) . One year I took a part time job cleaning up the slaughter house after everyone went home. THAT was the WORST job EVER!! I didn’t enjoy any of those jobs. But we always do what we have to do to take care of our family. As much as I disliked those jobs, I don’t think I ever let it affect the way I dealt with customers. I’ve had a bad run recently with checkers at the local grocery store who obviously do not like their job. They don’t greet you when you come up, don’t sack your groceries and are just unpleasant. The G/F and I got a kick out of it last week when we had to sack our own groceries then the checker asked us if we’d like help out with our bags. Really? What I wanted was to not have to ask myself if I wanted paper or plastic. And I bet everyone has experienced lack of enthusiasm from any fast food establishment you may frequent. Fortunately, Ms. Dikeman, Ms. Boyd, Ms. Woffard, Ms. Shaw, Ms. Brown, Mr. Girdner, Ms. Cunningham, Ms. Black, Ms. Bradley, Ms. Sivek and Mrs. Swope (twice) I believe really loved their jobs. These were all my English teachers from 1st-12th grades. As I think back on most of the teachers I’ve ever had, they all seemed like they really liked their jobs. And being a teacher in a class that I was in could not have been easy. I’m just sayin’. I think I was fortunate to grow up in a place and time where the teachers really still cared and really reached out to their students. Maybe not all of them, but certainly most of them. I know one of my English teachers in high school was married to one of the coaches, and these two, as a couple did more for me than I could ever tell them. I believe they both loved their jobs. Now, 25 years later I know they are both still teaching. How would you like to have loved your job that long? Last night I met a friend for beverages. I’ve know this guy since 6th grade. He is a coach in a big city school. He is also a teacher. I asked him what he taught and he told me to guess. Now this is a guy who was very athletic, smart and probably would have fun at other people’s expense (I know this because we hung around together and I did too). He went on to tell me he was a special ed teacher. When he started talking about “his” kids his eyes twinkled like I imagine mine do when I’m talking about my daughters or son. He sat up in his chair and became very animated and you could tell he really cares for these kids and loves what he does. Made me kind of proud he was a guy I hung out with! I hope these children’s parents realize how lucky they are to have him teaching their children. I’d like to give a big “thank you” to all the teachers and cops here, for I know they don’t do it for money. One of my favorite stories was one of Mother Theresa. When inspecting a rundown housing project for the homeless she came upon a bathroom and stated, “Someone sure does love Jesus. “ When questioned she went on to explain that anyone who takes such pride in their work to do such a wonderful job in cleaning the restroom to get it to shine so well really glorifies Jesus with their work. Probably what the guy who cleans the port-a-john must think as well. I guess it’s time to find something I love so I can too!