job – Page 3 – The View from a Drawbridge

An Unexpected Ego Boost

I was at home, sound asleep, when I got a phone call from my boss the other day. She was calling to let me know that StoryCorps was trying to track me down. I was intrigued. Why on earth would StoryCorps be contacting me?

For those who are unfamiliar with this amazing organization, I’ll quote directly from their website: “StoryCorps is one of the largest oral history projects of its kind. Since 2003, StoryCorps has collected and archived more than 50,000 interviews from more than 80,000 participants. Each conversation is recorded on a free CD to share, and is preserved at the American Folklife Center at the Library of Congress.”

So I called the contact number and identified myself. They wanted to talk to me about a StoryCorps interview I did back in 2009, in which I talked about what it was like to be a bridgetender. It seems that their next anthology will be “Callings”, a publication about interesting jobs that people are passionate about, and they are considering including my interview in that book, which will come out in 2016.

The woman I spoke to couldn’t guarantee that my interview would make the cut, but if it does, they’ll send me a copy of the book. Even though they had the rights to the interview already, they wanted to establish contact with me for fact checking purposes.

Finding me must have been no mean feat. Since 2009 I’ve moved at least 5 times, have long since changed my number and e-mail address, and now live 3000 miles away, on the other side of the continent. That, to me, says they’re really interested in using my interview. Time will tell.

Either way, I’m extremely excited. There’s nothing quite as delicious as having your routine disrupted by an unexpected and unbelievably gratifying event. Isn’t life grand?

The StoryCorps booth. An exciting and historic place to be.

Hell Hath its Benefits

When I listen to my coworkers complain about this job, I have to inwardly giggle. They think this job is bad. They think they’re being mistreated.

For 13 years I was in a horrible job situation. I worked graveyard shifts and got a one dollar raise every 6 years, and they tried to find ways to deny us even that. I had no health insurance to speak of. We got $3000 dollars a year to spend on our health, including prescriptions. After that, we were on our own. I was usually on my own by about the end of February. Forget about dental or vision or retirement. It was a right to work state, so we could be fired without cause. Racism and sexism were blatant and they made neither apologies nor excuses for them.

That’s what happens when you don’t have a union. Do you honestly believe that employers will treat you decently of their own free will? Trust me when I say that doesn’t happen. I’ve lived it.

So when I got this union job, which pays 2 ½ times as much for the same work, and has health insurance, vision, dental, retirement, deferred compensation, and more paid vacation time than I know what to do with, I felt as though l had died and gone to heaven. What’s to complain about?

That’s something you never think about when times are tough. Having lived in hell, you will always be grateful for and fully aware of those moments when you are no longer there. That’s something that my coworkers don’t have: the pure and bitter glory of perspective. What a gift. Seriously. What a gift.

[Image credit: imgkid.com]

My Own Personal Garden Song

After pulling up stakes and moving 3000 miles across country to a place where I know no one, essentially starting over at age 50, I spent a lot of time beating myself up because upon arrival I didn’t instantly have it all figured out.

I don’t know what I was thinking. Was everything supposed to fall into place, as if I could just pick up where I left off in Florida, like the new job and the new place to live and the 3000 mile drive were mere hiccups in my day-to-day routine? Reinventing yourself isn’t for sissies, let me tell you.

Fast forward 6 months, and yes, I love where I’m living. I’ve even more than halfway unpacked. I love 95 percent of my job, and I actually go long periods of time not dwelling on the other 5 percent. I’ve even started to establish a stable, albeit quirky, routine. And I can now go several places, like the library and the grocery store and to work, without relying on my GPS, which is nice.

But yeah, I admit it. I haven’t made a single friend outside of work yet, and that sucks. I’m lonely. And before you even go there, I’ve been given a million suggestions about how to rectify that. If I pursued them all I’d probably be so popular that I’d have to change my phone number just to get some peace. So I feel kind of guilty. I should be on top of things. I have all the tools. And yet, here I am, alone.

But today I started humming the Arlo Guthrie version of the Garden Song, which has also been famously sung by John Denver; Pete Seeger; and Peter, Paul, and Mary to name a few. I’ll attach the video so you can check out Arlo’s hilarious take on it, but meanwhile you know the song. It starts, “Inch by inch, row by row, I’m gonna make this garden grow. All it takes is a rake and a hoe and a piece of fertile ground…”

And I suddenly realized that what I’m doing is transplanting my life. I uprooted myself from Florida and I’m putting down roots here. That’s going to take some time and patience, some love and care. I just need to go inch by inch. I don’t have to beat myself up when, at the end of the day, the whole darned garden isn’t planted and in full bloom.

I need to give myself a break, do things correctly and with positive intention, and it will all work out in the end. Yes, I have the rake and the hoe. I’ll get there.

Next stop for me is signing up for a pottery class at the nearby community college. That starts in April. I’m looking forward to it. And I’m sure I’ll meet some amazing people.

Forward motion is what counts. Even if it’s only an inch at a time.

Follow Your Dreams?

I was thinking about this on the drive to work today. In America, we tend to encourage people to pursue their dreams, but what if everybody did that? This country would be full of rock stars and football heroes and presidents. I suppose that wouldn’t be a bad thing entirely, but the competition would get rather heated, especially in the political arena.

Here’s the real question: If we all went gallivanting off to grasp that brass ring, who would be around to scrub the toilets? Seriously, there are tons of jobs out there that are no one’s idea of a dream. Would you want to work in a slaughter house? Has it occurred to you that some poor schmuck has to inspect and maintain our sewerage systems? Somebody has to clean the blood off of crime scenes. Our garbage doesn’t handle itself.

All of these nasty, ugly jobs that keep society going are not filled by people who are listing job satisfaction as one of their principal joys in life. We’d be lost without every single one of these people. We owe our health, safety and stability to them. They are the ones that make rock stars and football heroes possible. It would be hard to entertain an arena full of screaming fans if you had to shovel your own shit.

Yes, it’s quite romantic to think of the US as the land of opportunity where, with a little hard work and determination, you can be anything you want in life. But the fact is we all need to be pretty darned grateful that the majority of us don’t quite get around to fulfilling our wildest desires. We really need to alter our cultural mindset to allow people in these jobs to take pride in what they do instead of feeling like they’ve somehow failed in life. Because when all is said and done, somebody has to make the sausage.

[Image credit: en.wikipedia.org]

An Appeal to All Supervisors

I’m sure the very people who most need to read this are the very ones who won’t, but nevertheless I have to try. If I manage to influence just one person to change for even one hour, then I’ve done something great.

Supervisors wield more power than they realize. Often employees spend more time with them than they do their own loved ones, so they impact people’s lives a great deal. They can make one’s working life a living hell or a pleasure. They can cause one to go home feeling exhausted and emotionally drained or empowered and confident and ready to take life on.

I genuinely believe that the average person wants to do a good job. How hard is it to give them positive feedback when they do so? It only takes a minute and it costs not a dime. If you allow your staff to shine, you will shine by association. If, on the other hand, you are so busy jealously guarding your turf that you expend all your energy keeping people down, you will wind up looking like the a**hole that you are. Everybody loses.

This problem isn’t a new one. A Christmas Carol, by Charles Dickens, was written in 1843. He described Mr. Fezziwig, Scrooge’s old boss, as follows, “He has the power to render us happy or unhappy; to make our service light or burdensome; a pleasure or a toil. Say that his power lies in words and looks; in things so slight and insignificant that it is impossible to add and count them up: what then. The happiness he gives, is quite as great as if it cost a fortune.”

Sadly, the Fezziwigs of this world seem to be the exception, not the rule. And that’s so unnecessary. Making people’s lives a living hell is also counterproductive and cruel. So take a minute to think about how people feel after an encounter with you, if not for their sakes, then for your own. After all, as Jacob Marley learned the hard way, we wear the chains we forge in life. In other words, karma’s a b**ch.

Alec Guinness as Jacob Marley in Scrooge.

Wax On, Wax Off

When I work on the new South Park Drawbridge here in Seattle, one of my duties is to wash the tower windows inside and out once a month. Given that the building looks similar to an air traffic control tower and has large windows all around its perimeter, this not a trifling endeavor. But needless to say, bridge operators need to be able to see what they’re doing, so it’s got to be done.

I did it today and got into a sort of Zen state. I kept thinking of Mr. Miyagi in the Karate Kid saying, “Wax on, wax off.” Patience. Calm. Focus. Control. Don’t forget to breathe.

Not that what I was doing was difficult. But the best way to turn routine into tedium is to have a piss poor attitude about it, and I’d kind of like to avoid that. So I concentrated on being the best window washer on the face of the earth, if only for that particular moment in time. My goal became to make the windows so clear that they became invisible. When the weather is nice you can see Mount Rainier from here, and I want people to see every rock and crevice of that beautiful mountain thanks to me.

When you strive for excellence and really tune in, routines are less of a chore and more of a comfort. My life has been anything but routine of late, so I’m happy to have any sort of habitual task, and look forward to building up more of them over time. I’m grateful to have this job. I’m excited about the life it will afford me. I love that it allows me to live in this wondrous place. Because of that, I’d gladly wash these windows every single day of the week if need be. Bring it on.

Post Nubila Phoebus

It’s been one helluva year! I’ve had the highest highs and the lowest lows. It reminds me of the time when I was 12 years old and we went to the beach. I made the mistake of turning my back on the ocean. The next thing I knew I was being tossed and spun around and finally washed up onto the sand like a dead whale, only I was miraculously alive, and extremely grateful, albeit vomiting out what seemed like a gallon of seawater. Ever since then I’ve had a healthy respect for Mother Nature.

The lowest low for me this year was the unexpected death of the love of my life. I haven’t fully recovered from that, of course, and I suspect that it will always fundamentally impact who I am in ways I’ve only just begun to understand. The strangest part about this is it has not left any visible scars, and the tears have mostly dried up, at least the public ones, so loved ones look at me and don’t really comprehend the profound effect this event has had on my day to day life. I’m forever altered.

And then there were minor details like being kicked out of my apartment, quitting my job, losing my car, and driving 3000 miles across the country to start my life completely over, I mean, completely over in a place where I know absolutely no one. Don’t try this at home, folks. It ain’t for sissies.

They say the top 5 stressors one can experience are Death, Divorce, Moving, Major Illness and Job Change. Well, I did three out of five this year, and I’m here to tell you it sucks.

On the other hand, I got to explore this country in more depth and detail than I ever anticipated, and that was an amazing experience that I’ll never forget. And a lot of people stepped up and helped me out financially and emotionally along the way, and that has moved me to the depths of my soul. My faith in mankind has been renewed like never before.

I’ve also learned that I’m capable of much more than I ever anticipated. It’s kind of empowering to jump into an abyss and somehow manage not to go splat. And I’m loving where I live for the first time in about 30 years. That’s a nice feeling. Not many people get to begin anew at age 50. Every day is now an adventure!

If I could design a personal coat of arms, my motto would be Post Nubila Phoebus. After the clouds, sunshine. That has been my forever hope, and it seems to be becoming, after a great deal of sacrifice and stress and stormy weather, my life.

So I say good-bye to 2014 with mixed emotions. It has been without a doubt the most pivotal year of my life. I would have never guessed last January that I’d find myself where I am today, having experienced what I’ve experienced. Would I do it all again? Honestly, I don’t know. It took a lot out of me. I’m not sure I’d have the strength. But nevertheless, here I am. And here’s not so bad at all.

[Image credit: freehdw.com]

It Came Without Ribbons

‘Twas an odd Christmas indeed for me this year in this land of total strangers. I didn’t deck the halls with boughs of holly. I didn’t string lights. I didn’t attend parties or wrap gifts. I left no cookies out for Santa as I knew that this year he’d pass on by. It’s hard to put on the ritz for a party of one. Instead I went to work.

While others donned their ugly Christmas sweaters, I was struggling into a pair of coveralls that make me look like a prison inmate. While others were drinking egg nog and singing carols, I was wiping the grease off trunions. While others were watching It’s a Wonderful Life, I was removing grime from buffer landings and striker plates. Drawbridges don’t clean themselves, don’t you know.

Before you start feeling sorry for me, though, I have to say that I was actually quite happy doing all this, and not just because of the double time and a half pay rate. Although I had been braced to feel completely sorry for myself, somewhere along the way this feeling washed over me. It was the purest, most sincere sense of gratitude I’ve ever felt in my life. It actually brought sappy little tears of joy to my eyes.

After a couple years of pure hell, it suddenly occurred to me that in actual fact I’m in a really good place in my life right now. I’m not sure how I lucked out. A lot of it really was total dumb luck. But here I am, reaping the benefits regardless.

I’ve got the best job I’ve ever had in my life. I’m living in a really cool city. I’ve got my dogs, and a nice, safe place to live. I get to sleep at night like a normal person for the first time in 13 years. Things are really quite good. The rest will come.

At some point this made me think of that scene in the Grinch where he realizes that even though he’s taken all the material things away from the people of Who-ville, somehow he hasn’t managed to steal Christmas. Whether you’re a Christian or not, much can be learned from that story. Gratitude and love are what counts in this world. All the rest is just frosting. The cake is the thing.

And I do feel gratitude and I have love in abundance. Life is good.

[Image credit: pinkpolkadotcreations.com]

New, but Not.

I find myself having to strike a strange balance at this new job. I have 13 years of experience opening drawbridges, so as they say, this ain’t my first rodeo. But on the other hand there are subtle differences in policies and procedures at this new place, so there’s definitely plenty to learn. Of course I have every intention of doing things their way.

I don’t want to come off as arrogant. I don’t want to appear to be a know it all. But I’m also no greenhorn. I am completely familiar with a lot of what I’ll be doing.

It’s a weird feeling, trying to be humble and knowledgeable at the same time. I can tell that when I ask questions, they’re surprised that I know enough to ask them. But at the same time, I sometimes feel like I’ve been given a child’s toy to assemble, and all the instructions are in Japanese. There’s also the fear that they’ll assume I know something that I don’t, and that could cause an issue, too.

And then there’s the gender thing. Hard to be taken seriously as a female bridge operator. But I’ve proven myself before. I guess I’ll have to do so again. Annoying to have to start from scratch after all these years, but in fairness, as far as these people are concerned I just hatched from the egg yesterday.

Obviously I’m not the first person in the world who has had to walk this type of tight rope, but it’s a strange feeling indeed. Wish me luck!

[Image credit: thebettermom.com]

Work Friendships

At every job I’ve held for any length of time, I’ve made some pretty intense friendships. I suppose when you find yourself hunkered down in the same foxhole you tend to develop a bond of sorts. Comrades in arms. At least that has always been my experience.

Whenever I’ve left a job, I’ve attempted to keep in touch with these friends, and 99 times out of 100, it doesn’t happen. I will try to make an effort but it goes unreciprocated. Does that mean the friendship never existed in the first place? I don’t believe that for a second. But work friends are a different breed. They can be strong and intense, but they lack depth. Without deep roots, they cannot thrive.

Maybe now, in the Facebook era, that will change. It’s easier to keep in touch, and more and more friendships seem to lack depth and yet thrive in cyberspace. All I know is that when I walked away from my Jacksonville job for the last time the other day, I felt profoundly sad because of all the dear people that I will most likely lose. I left them my e-mail address. Will I hear from any of them?

There’s no way to force people to keep in touch. Maybe our common thread was that foxhole, and I just climbed out of it and left them there to soldier on. But I am quite certain I will feel the lack of these friends for years to come.