[“In small-town Ontario... jobs grew on trees - or tomato vines - as far as I was concerned as a ten-year old. I had my pick of part-time jobs...” G. Harrison, 2012 in Review PT 2, Wed., Jan. 11]
When I was a young boy in the 1950s and early ‘60s, part-time jobs were almost a dime a dozen, like small dinner rolls or penny candies from the corner store. I can honestly say I had an easy time earning more than just pocket change when needed, especially during harvest time.
Full- or year-round jobs were almost a dime a dozen as well; one just had to be able-bodied and in the right place at the right time.
One of my newspaper customers, Art Maedel, ran the town bakery and when he opened Norwich’s first supermarket in the summer of 1962 I promptly asked him for a job (while collecting 40 cents at his door for a week’s worth of The London Free Press).
["I did much waiting at the door for my 40 cents"]
He said I was too young (at 12 years old) but after I turned 13 - in September, three months later - I asked again, and was given a job; it lasted me through Gr. 8 and five subsequent years of high school.
Additional jobs appeared like good money on trees in nearby tobacco fields, and I often asked to be released from the grocery store during summers in order to pick up double or triple the earnings by doing farm labour. Sometimes I didn’t ask. I’d simply tell Mr. Maedel that I was leaving for the summer, only to return ‘cap in hand’ in the fall. I was never turned away, likely because I was indispensable. (Insert laugh track here!) After a brief scolding I would grab a white apron from a wall hook and begin restocking shelves without missing a beat or my next pay cheque.
My tobacco and grocery store money, for the most part, paid my way through university (one year) and teachers’ college (also one year) and because of my brilliant interview skills - I can nod in all the right places along with the best of them - was able to sign my name to an elementary school teaching contract (in London) after a five minute chat.
Because I never threw a child out a window (oh, I wanted to on occasion, I really wanted to...) or talked back to a principal the way I did as a teen - to principals or my mom or dad - I retired in June, 2002 with an unblemished record after a full teaching career. And shortly thereafter, because I like to keep busy, I began writing a weekly column for a community newspaper, worked behind a coffee bar for a few months to earn money for a motorcycle and started rescuing lumber in order to make great-looking birdhouses (if I do say so myself) on the side.
At this point in my life, I can say that as far as good, secure, well-paid jobs were concerned, I lived in the best of times. And I still do, related to interesting or entertaining part-time work.
I feel I can also say, unfortunately, gone are those days for many people, and that 2012 will be a key year to consider why such is the case.
More to follow.
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Please click here to read 2012 in Review PT 2: “For jobs, I grew up in the best of times”
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