Well, let's see, my first jobs were with my Dad, when I was around ten or so, and it consisted of scraping concrete off of floor slabs, on the houses my Dad was plastering, and mixing plaster for my Dad, any of the other plasters. Nope no mixer. I was the mixer. Mixed it in a mortar board. Which was basically a boat, with 2 X 12 boards for sides and ends, and a sheet metal bottom. Then after I had it mixed, I would shovel it into a wheelbarrow, and push that through deep sand, to the outside wall where they were working, or inside, when they finished the outside, and then I would shovel it onto the mortar stand, and then go back and load up again, and push it back to them, and start loading up the mortar boards, and then go and mix more. Quite a workout for a kid.
Hell, it would kill me now.
Then after high school, I went with a friend of mine whose family worked the packing house circuit, and worked in packing houses, and the fields, and decided I liked the packing house better.
Then I worked at Lion Country Safari, west of West Palm Beach, as a Short order cook, then I was drafted, and went into the Army, and only had two years to do. Well I and a bunch of other guys took some tests, and then some more, and as the tests continued, there were less and less of us, till it was just me and a couple of others. Well were then herded into a room, and were told that we were exceptional, and as such, we were going to get to choose our MOS (military occupation symbol), and as we all knew all US's (draftees) went to Nam!
But being as we were so extraordinary, we would get to choose our job, and it would only cost us an extra year. Hell you can do a year standing on your head! Well, that hook, line, and sinker went down pretty slick!
Well I ended up in Italy as a Cryptographic clerk, and then after using a little child psychology, on the battallion commander against the base commander, I was able to get into the mail room. Had it made! Everyone treated the Mail Clerks well. The cooks would bring us treats, and we would give them their mail early, the supply room guys would let us slide on stuff, etc. I got to go to Berlin on an orientation tour, and got to go on both sides of the wall. Very interesting and a real eye opener. Especially since with my clearances, I was not supposed to be within 60 miles of any communist countries, and here I was 90 miles inside of one!
Myself and another guy were wondering around and saw this lady with a bunch of grade school aged kids, in little blue uniforms, with a clip board and some paper on it, and they saw us and came up to us, and said "your Name?" and pointed to the form, and there were a bunch of names on there, and I asked the lady what it was for, and she didn't speak English, and my German was practically non existent, anyhow we signed, after all they were cute kids, and polite.
When we got back on the bus we told our guide about it, and he went ballistic,
and told us to show him where this happened and we did, and we found the woman and the kids, and he started talking to her, and then he comes back to us, and escorts us back to the bus, and told us NEVER sign anything over there! Turns out we signed a protest for a political prisoner.
I also got to deliver equipment and paper work to the colonel at the NATO Communication cave called West Star. That is after I got out of the communication biz, and got in the Mail room. Only the great part was I had a Sgt. drive me, and I was only an e4. He did not like that, especially when he could not go into the cave, which was pretty neat, like a James Bond place. All tiled, and mess halls, with various countries, etc. I would have to wait sometimes for a reply, and I would be told to go get something to eat, while they got the replies ready. The Sgt. didn't like that either. Sometimes I already had the replies, and I was just cooling my heels, and enjoying annoying the Sgt. because he was somewhat of a Jerk. He would get all upset and ask what the heck took me so long, and I would tell him it was a long way to where the communication center was, and then I had to wait for the Colonel to get the replies, and requests he had. I told him, what do you want me to do, tell a full bird colonel to hurry it up!? The Colonel wasn't the sharpest tack in the box, he had the communication center all screwed up. It was not entirely his fault, though, it was dumped in his lap. His initials were D.I.M. We called him uncle Dim.
Then I was supposed to go to Nam, but I had appendicitis at Ft. Lewis, Washington, and got sent to Ft. Lee, where I again used child psychology against a battallion commander, who had the rep for being an A@@@! and it was justly deserved, and to boot,his command Sgt Major, and first Sgt, were doozies also! The command Sgt. major had spent time in the brig in Germany, for beating a man to death,
and the First Sgt. had spent time in the brig in NC for stealing office equipment from the supply pool, and selling it on the outside.
, well he heard I was a office clerk at the other company, and wanted me for his own! I thought nope ain't gonna happen!
So when I went for my interview, he asked me how many words a minute I could type, and I told him 30-35 a minute. He said that wasn't very good. I told him I thought it was for me. Actually I could type 70-80 a minute, and even more on a teletype, so he got on the phone, and said to send the other guy over for an interview, this guy can't even type, I acted hurt,
and then he asked whoever was on the other end, if they still needed a mail clerk, and they did, so there I was back in the mail room.
Then I got out, and went to school to be a Dental Lab Tech, and after working at that for a few years, I decided I needed something that would afford me the ability to eat better. So I worked as a Security Guard for a Buddy of mine in the Virgin Islands, which is a misnomer, and then came back and worked for the Fed, on the Citrus Black Fly program, and then worked at a Buddy's Concrete plant, for a few years, and then worked as an electrician's helper, and was going to get my Journeyman's license, but then the job would run out, so I decided to look for a career, and ended up working for the Fire Dept. dispatch center for 2 1/2 yrs. and finally got hired on for combat.
I also became a professional clown, and then an instructor for public education through clowning to teach fire safety to children, at the Fla. State fire College. We now teach it at the Elks Youth Camp, because we could not depend on getting the classes, or the auditorium, even though we put in for it almost a year ahead. If some Mucky Muck from Tallahassee decided he wanted to do a class presentation for some PR or whatever, we were tossed aside, and the students from around the country, were out of a class, and they had to get vacation time off a year in advance, and so did myself and the other instructors. So the class at the Elks Youth Camp, works out great, and it is entirely free, including food, and rooms, they pay for their make up, and the outfits, we help them pick out at the Good Will. The only meal they pay for is when we take them out to get their feet wet at Ryan's Restaurant in Character,the night before they do their skits at the elementary school. Any who, I am now retired from the Fire dept. and my schedule is ....... well, there isn't a schedule.
I basically go to bed late, and get up late.
I have done other various jobs in between real jobs, scraping 50 yrs. of paint layers, off of clapboard houses, and then painting them, in August, for $6.00 an hour, and digging ditches, and cutting and hauling trees away, and basically anything I could do for a few bucks. But back then a dollar went a lot further. I remember when I was a kid, my Mother would give me two dollars, and I would walk down to the store, and come back with two pounds of hamburger, a loaf of bread, a pack of hamburger buns, a box of crackers, and a box of cookies, and a half gallon of milk!
You can't do that today!
Too darn many cameras!
Wayne
