Hop-Scotch: "Work History"

When I thought of hop-scotch--a game I never really played or can't recall ever playing--the first thing that came to mind was "jumping" from job to job... As Wayne from Wayne's World would call them: "Joe jobs." And I've worked a lot of them. There is something really silly about the concept of doing mindless jobs to accrue $$ that you can't and won't be saving. It's a struggle some people never break free of--I sort of have recently. I'm sure others feel the same way. On the flipside, I can't really fathom that life is about gathering a pot of money, sitting on it, wondering if it's enough, too much, etc. So in that regard there's a something like poetic bliss to the "Joe job," akin to the feeling of a child lost in a game of hop-scotch? Maybe.

Here is a breakdown of some of the imagery and their corresponding jobs--moving bottom to top, left to right--sometimes I tried to portray a general feeling and other times I tried to pinpoint a specific character or moment and represent it. 8 SQUARES 13 JOBS, Let's do this!

1. BAILING HAY: When I was 13, a strange farmhand would go around picking up neighborhood boys in the back of his pickup truck to bail hay for 5 bucks an hour (paid by personal check from Gus Knight of Gus Knight Farms). Looking back, it seems strange that my parents were OK w/ this. And I can say--with the hesistancy of memory fatigue barreling down---that this was the hardest fucking job I ever had. I couldn't take anymore after about 7 Sundays of this--despite the fact that the farmhand--I think his name was Roy--had hardcore pornography taped all over the cab of his truck, and we would sneak peaks during water breaks. Other than the porn, the scratched up arm is a pretty good portrayal of how my my wrists looked after 8 hours of bailing hay. SUMMER CAMP: 2nd job. Organized sports at a day camp for about 2 months in the summer... "capture the flag" represented here.

2. DELI: I worked this job on and off for basically all of high school. It was a pretty fun and messy job, and I liked and was good at it. Lots of colorful "regulars" came in--on the right side that's supposed to be me using the slicer.

3. BORDER'S BARISTA: I did this for a few months. It was like working for the deli only 87% less fun. The figure in the lower left represents a man who smoked white owl cigars, drank copious shots of espresso and wore a member's only jacket. He was like a savant of some kind. He drove most of my co-workers to go hide in the back, but I enjoyed talking to him. COUNTRY CLUB POOL SNACK BAR CZAR: Quite possibly the best job I ever had. If it were socially acceptable (and weather-permitting) I would be happy doing that the rest of my life. Watching all the pool moms in their bikinis and ragging on the bratty kids while eating pixie sticks with one of my best friends and listening to the radio...

4. TOYS R' US: This was like a non-descript 3-week stint (the red area on the board). Although I once got yelled at for eating peanut butter M&Ms that had ripped in the back and fallen on the floor. Even though I was EATING THEM OFF THE FLOOR, the manager of course assumed I had opened the bag, placed them on the ground, and was eating them because I was a theif. NJPIRG CANVASSING: Horrible. Asking money door-to-door for a semi-corrupt "non-partisan" orginization.

5. THE GOLF COURSE: I worked in the "outside ops" which is the fancy title for "guy who cleans golf clubs for way too much $$ in tips." This job was ridiculous money, but not worth it at all.

6. LIQUOR STORE/RADIOSHACK: At this point I had flunked out of college, was living in a shit hole and had two of the most depressing jobs I've ever known. One of the guys at Radioshack was a divorcee with a kid he never saw. On a good week, his take home was about 8 bucks an hour. Imagine paying child support on the commisions from selling batteries and cheap wires. Partly because of this guy, I quit after a month. This was the only time I've ever used "too depressing" as my official reason for quitting. That guy... I have this awful feeling about what happened to him, and by "happened" I mean: nothing much at all.

7. PIZZA/NEWSPAPER WRITER: After getting my act together, I landed 2 jobs at the same time. I was a sports editor for a media company that published about a dozen local papers in Bergen County, and I delivered pizza at night after photographing and writing about high school baseball and softball games all day. This was pretty busy and somewhat fulfilling, although the pizza job ended sourly after thugs shattered my passenger side window and stole my $13 dollar CD-walkman in between delivers. They were looking for my delivery bank, but I kept that shit in my pocket. When I discovered this, I walked the pizza and ticket back inside and quit on the spot. I should have done something with this event but, you know... time constraints.

8. MY JOB NOW: After starting up at Mason Gross I got an office job in East Brunswick at a tug-and-barge shipping company that moves petroleum products. I guess because I never called out sick, they kept promoting me, and now I have a real "non Joe job" job w/ full benefits and salary kicking in this summer. Right now I work about 20 hours a week @ 25/bucks an hour. I have my own cubicle w/ high speed internet and I've never done less work in my life. It is not shocking that our corporate structure is crumbling--it is a heaping pile of spoiled bad egos, foolishness and sloth. But I'm hardly an idealist. (Note: This was probably too personal and definitely too long. But give a man a forum, and... )

THE END