<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0How many times have you heard someone say, \u2018I hate my job!\u2019?\u00a0 Entering my ninth year in retirement in July of 2026, someone asked how I was filling my time.\u00a0 The standard answer is, \u201cI am so busy it makes me wonder how I had time to do all this other stuff when I was still working full time.\u201d\u00a0 Part of the answer lies in the fact that we all can burn the candle at both ends when we are younger.\u00a0 It suits me just fine to be busy because, unlike a \u2018real job\u2019, retirement allows for unlimited time for coffee \/ tea breaks, naps (as necessary), spontaneous changes to the daily\u00a0 plan, and playing unlimited TIAD cards (<\/span>T<\/span>omorrow<\/span> I<\/span>s <\/span>A<\/span>nother <\/span>D<\/span>ay).\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0As we discussed the pros and cons of retirement vs working for a living, it dawned on me that A) I really do enjoy being retired and B) even when work life dominated my time, I can not remember having a job that I hated.\u00a0 Let me clarify that last statement.\u00a0 We all have times when we don\u2019t like aspects of a job and in moments of frustration, many of us may even state it in the stark terms listed in the above title.\u00a0 With those moments aside, the eternal optimist in me always seemed to find more pros than cons in the jobs I held at any given period of time.<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0With parents who survived the deprivations of both the Great Depression and World War II, we were raised to make productive use of our time.\u00a0 Being the youngest of\u00a0 three kids, the chores passed down to me were the ones my older brother and sister did not want to do (especially if they interfered with their \u2018older sibling obligations\u2019 (some job related, many others social or recreational in nature)).\u00a0 The first ones that became \u2018mine\u2019 were mowing the lawn and shoveling snow.\u00a0 The truth be told, neither of these seemed like work to me and the latter became infinitely easier when we invested in a new Ariens snowblower when I was in fourth grade.\u00a0 It took me many years to realize there was no need to rush home after school to crank up the Ariens before brother Ron got home because I don\u2019t think he was trying to win that race (sister Barb was not one who ever shoveled snow).\u00a0 Even when we found ourselves home on snowdays, nobody else made a move to do the snow work except your\u2019s truly.<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0We were accustomed to \u2018making wood\u2019 as every home I remember living in had a fireplace and\/or a woodstove (be it in the sauna, garage, or basement).\u00a0 Dad\u2019s \u2018building chimneys and fireplaces hobby\u2019 translated into the need to cut firewood.\u00a0 This was a job brother Ron usually didn\u2019t escape, especially in the winter.\u00a0 Dad would cut tops left behind by logging operations and we would employ our trusty Ski-Doo and a sledge to haul the blocks to the truck.\u00a0 Once the folks made the decision to indulge their drum crazy youngest with a new set of Ludwig drums in the spring of 1966, making wood took on a new meaning.\u00a0 When we had enough stockpiled for our own use, Dad would sell pickup loads to neighbors and friends for the princely sum of $8 per load (note, not $8 per face cord) which eventually went up to $10 per load.\u00a0 \u201cCome on boy,\u201d he would announce on Saturday morning, \u201cTime to pay for those drums.\u201d\u00a0 By then, Ron had a steady job at the Red Owl grocery store so assistant wood maker became my exclusive domain.<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Technically, this would count as my first \u2018paying job\u2019 even though the money never went through my hands.\u00a0 I vowed to never own a house with a fireplace (even though we still had one at camp plus a wood stove and a wood fired sauna).\u00a0 A decade later, I owned an all electrically heated home (yes, very expensive) and ended up putting in a forced air wood furnace.\u00a0 My years of hauling and piling wood must have been good training because I actually liked getting back into the game over the forty plus years we heated our house with wood.<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0By my senior year in high school, my band The Twig began playing regularly enough that I didn\u2019t have to follow big brother to the Red Owl for employment.\u00a0 I never really considered playing music to be a \u2018job\u2019.\u00a0 I am certain that the folks were happy to see their investment in the Ludwig kit had not been for a passing fad.\u00a0 The Twig kept me in spending money until June of 1971 when we graduated and The Twig headed off in three different directions.\u00a0 When I inquired how Mom put up with having me pounding on the drums and three different bands rehearsing in the basement over the years, she laughed and said, \u201cWell, we always knew where you were.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0My first job outside of the \u2018family home chores\u2019 and \u2018getting paid to play music\u2019 categories was as a dishwasher at the Huron Mountain Club.\u00a0 Failing to find summer employment after the band broke up (after applying at Shopko, the Holiday Inn, and Ramada Inn),\u00a0 Dad came home from work one day with an opportunity.\u00a0 He said, \u201cI had coffee with former sheriff Tom Jernstad today.\u00a0 He works as the resident manager at the Huron Mountain Club so I asked if they had any openings for summer help.\u00a0 He said all their positions were filled, but by mid-June, someone always decides they don\u2019t like being so far from town and they quit.\u00a0 Have him put in an application at the club office on Front Street.\u201d\u00a0 The next day, the office girl gave me the same line about no positions being available but after I handed in my application, she smiled and said, \u201cGood luck.\u00a0 Don\u2019t call us, we\u2019ll call you if anything opens up.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The next day, my phone rang:\u00a0 \u201cIf you are still interested, be at the Club and report to their office tomorrow by noon.\u00a0 Pack enough clothes for at least the first week.\u201d\u00a0 \u201cHey, Dad,\u201d I asked when I called him at work, \u201cWhere is the Huron Mountain Club and can you drop me off there by noon tomorrow?\u201d\u00a0 He simply said, \u201cStart packing and I will take you up to Big Bay in the morning.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Having never ventured farther northwest of Marquette than Big Bay, I may have begun to have second thoughts myself as we motored another ten miles beyond Lake Independence.\u00a0 When we hit the club\u2019s gate and guardhouse, it was another ten miles of gravel road to the HMC club office.\u00a0 The secretary there told me someone would be along in a bit to show me to my quarters and that my day off would be Thursdays.\u00a0 \u201cWe have a way to contact the office in Marquette if there is an emergency,\u201d she told us, \u201cbut the nearest phone is the phone booth next to the General Store in Big Bay.\u201d\u00a0 Dad said, \u201cWe will pick you up after your evening shift Wednesday evening and before then, I will see if we can figure out a car so you can get yourself back and forth.\u201d\u00a0 When the folks picked me up the next week, he said, \u201cWith Ron in basic training (he got his draft notice on Christmas Eve of 1970), he said you can use his Camaro for the summer.\u00a0 If you wreck it he promised he would take it personally.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0This was all new to me.\u00a0 Living across the street from the Northern Michigan University campus, it had always been my plan to live at home while attending college.\u00a0 Now, I was going to spend the summer living fifty miles from home with one day per week off the clock.\u00a0 My job was listed as \u2018bus boy\u2019 but it soon became apparent there was a lot more involved than just busing tables for the breakfasts, lunches, and dinners served in the club dining rooms.\u00a0 It also included things like unloading the trucks delivering produce and other kitchen supplies, sweeping and mopping the dining room floors, raising and lowering the flag each day, and starting fires for the members in the club house adjacent to the dining facilities.\u00a0 We had to sub for the dishwasher and pot washer when they had their day off on a rotating basis.<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0For some reason the other bus boys did not like the dishwasher job.\u00a0 I only had to sub for the pot washer once as the other bus boys were happy to swap with me on the pot washer\u2019s days off.\u00a0 I liked running the Hobart dish machine so I subbed for the dish washer for the first half of the summer and took over full time when he later quit on very short notice.\u00a0 We were expected to work through Labor Day weekend and the head bus boy and I ended up covering the last four weeks of the season alone when the other bus boys followed the dishwasher and bailed early.\u00a0 The kitchen manager told us it was too late in the year to find replacements but if we were okay with finishing up the season (just the two of us), he would give us a little extra at the end of the season.\u00a0 John and I busted our tails three meals a day, seven days a week for the rest of the summer and got a pat on the back and a, \u201cHey, thanks guys, I knew you could do it!\u201d from the kitchen manager.\u00a0 Apparently that was his idea of \u2018a little something extra\u2019.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0No matter how we were slammed, we found the two of us could still finish off all the shifts during the busiest part of the season earlier than we had with a full crew.\u00a0 With the former head chef taking over the kitchen manager\u2019s job over the next two summers, I was able to hold down the dish washer job and play band jobs with the band I joined in the spring of 1972.\u00a0 Burning the candle at both ends meant I was pretty worn down by the time NMU resumed in the fall semesters of 1972 and 1973, but there wasn\u2019t any point in time when I said, \u201cI hate this job!\u201d\u00a0 I often told my students, \u201cBeing a dishwasher is a very satisfying work.\u00a0 You start with a pile of dirty dishes and end up with piles of clean cups, glasses, silverware, and plates.\u00a0 If it had paid better, I might still be a dishwasher today.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Playing music kept me in spending cash during the next three years of college.\u00a0 Between my junior and senior years, I had already decided to not be the oldest kitchen worker at the HMC as everyone else I had worked with was moving on.\u00a0 A twenty hour a week office job (which I inherited because the previous student worker left school in the second semester of my junior year) fell into my lap.\u00a0 I walked in the Geography Department office one day and my up the street neighbor, Professor Pat Farrell, pointed at me and said, \u201cHire him.\u00a0 You want a job?\u201d\u00a0 I said, \u201cSure – what job?\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Answering the phone, filing, typing memos, duplicating – it was typical \u2018office work\u2019 and my boss, Ceta, the regular secretary, was a hoot to work for.\u00a0 The only time I ever saw her get mad was the day my Methods of Teaching instructor (who was also my advisor) came in and complained loudly about how many typos I had made on the exam he had given me to type for an off campus extension class.\u00a0 Ceta glared at him and said, \u201cYou dropped this on him yesterday and said \u2018I need this typed and 20 copies in two hours.\u00a0 If it had been me, I would have told you to do it yourself.\u00a0 Don\u2019t you dare complain and even think about doing this again.\u201d\u00a0 As she said this, she rounded the office counter and backed him out the door.\u00a0 When she came back in, she read my mind and added, \u201cAnd no, he better not hold this against you in your class work or he will have me to answer to.\u201d\u00a0 He must have known this as it never came up again.<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0One thing led to another and by the time the semester ended, Pat asked me what my plans were for the summer.\u00a0 \u201cWe usually hire a graduate student to be the Assistant Manager at the NMU Field Station by Munising, but none of them want to spend the summer out there.\u201d\u00a0 When I told him I had not planned to return to the HMC and needed to take my Geographic Field Methods class that summer, he hired me on the spot.\u00a0 This summer of living away from home would be a much better resume filler than \u2018dishwasher\u2019..\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0NMU held what were called \u2018Intersession Classes\u2019 between the spring semester and summer school classes.\u00a0 I spent the last six weeks of the semester and the run up to the intersession classes as the department secretary when Ceta\u2019s husband was transferred to Dubuque, Iowa.\u00a0 In the spring of 1974, I had signed up for a ten or twelve day geology trip that took us to Sudbury, Ontario and then on the circle tour around Lake Superior.\u00a0 I asked Pat if this would be a problem but he assured me that I would have a couple of days to spare before we had to go out to set up the Field Studies camp at Cusino Lake.\u00a0 \u201cOh, by the way,\u201d he added, \u201cYou will have to get a chauffeur\u2019s drivers license so you can drive university vehicles.\u201d\u00a0 I took care of that before we left on the geology trip but it made me wonder what other little surprises this new job would hold for me.<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0True to Pat\u2019s words, we got back from our jam packed geology tour and I had a week to recover.\u00a0 We met at the Science Building at 9 AM to pack up two university cars with all the materials Pat would need to teach the required Field Mapping class I would be taking.\u00a0 One of the conditions of my employment was the need for me to take at least six credits – Field Mapping accounted for four credits.\u00a0 The other two I was able to audit a class that paired teachers and high school students in a four week session of field trips around the Pictured Rocks National Lake Shore and other assorted places of interest.\u00a0 I knew what to expect from Pat\u2019s class, but the Biology professor herding the teachers and students around was completely unknown to me.\u00a0 The audit class was going to be the second half of my summer schedule so it got put on the back burner for a few weeks.<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0When we arrived at the Field Station, there were many tasks lined up for me to get familiar with.\u00a0 Once we opened up and cleaned the two dorm buildings, the kitchen, and the classroom areas, we had two days to get up to speed.\u00a0 Pat\u2019s high school age son was given the task of attaching the flat bottom skiff used as a swimming platform to the anchor point fifty feet off shore.\u00a0 We hauled out the canoes that would be available for class and recreational use.\u00a0 There was a gas powered pump down by the lake we had to fuel up and test – this pump was for the emergency firehose mounted in the center of the compound.\u00a0 At this point, Pat mentioned we would be building a new shelter for the firehose and he wondered if I had any ideas.\u00a0 I sketched out the type I had seen at the Huron Mountain Club with an estimate of the materials we would need.\u00a0 He came back from Marquette the next Sunday toting what we would need and we put it up in a couple of evenings.<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0I knew that one of my primary jobs would be to stay on the job on the weekends when the professors and most of the students went home.\u00a0 The Field Station was off the grid and relied on gas powered appliances and a diesel generator for electricity.\u00a0 All of the kitchen appliances save the stove and oven were electric so someone had to tend to the generator.\u00a0 After every so many hours of operating, the diesel generator\u2019s oil had to be changed.\u00a0 Pat had me do it once and then informed me it was now my job to monitor the hours and do the oil and filter changes.\u00a0 Toss in lawn mowing and cooking for myself and anyone who did not go home for the weekend and there were not very many slack moments in my schedule.<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0I enjoyed living off the grid for three summers at the club and one at the field station.\u00a0 I got some bonus hours in the fall of \u201874 when I would go out to Cusino Lake and open up the station for various campus groups who would hold retreats there.\u00a0 Some were \u2018working sessions\u2019 and some were purely social.\u00a0 All I had to do was open things up, fire up the generator and the gas water heaters and then stay out of the way.\u00a0 The one perk was the underground gas tank that was located near the generator shack.\u00a0 Pat made sure I knew my last job every weekend was to gas up my trusty truck before I locked the gate behind me.<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0In a span of five years, I had played in two bands and worked three years at the club and nine months for NMU.\u00a0 Maybe it was the variety of jobs I held, but I never felt overwhelmed nor did I ever hate my jobs.\u00a0 Upon graduating in the spring of 1975, I was actually looking forward to finding a teaching position so I could concentrate on doing just one job.\u00a0 It didn\u2019t take long to learn that one wears more hats as a teacher than all my part time jobs combined.\u00a0 Down the line, we will revisit this topic to find out how I managed to still not hate my job for the 43 years I spent in the public school trenches.<\/span><\/p>\n Topo Piece Video:\u00a0 There are so many good songs about working for a living . . . so we offer Huey Lewis and the News!<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0How many times have you heard someone say, \u2018I hate my job!\u2019?\u00a0 Entering my ninth year in retirement in July of 2026, someone asked how I was filling my time.\u00a0 The standard answer is, \u201cI am so busy it makes me wonder how I had time to do all this other stuff when I 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