Vartabedian: A soft job is hard to get

In these difficult economic times and a dwindling employment market, I can look back and reflect upon the many jobs I’ve held and the good fortunes I’ve met over my lifetime.

My very first taste of earning money came as a 10-year-old living in Somerville. A project development down the street struck my curiosity. One day I decided to investigate the construction site when a hard hat motioned me over.

“Hey, son,” he says. “How about making a run to the store and getting us some coffee and donuts? Here’s a dollar and keep the change.”

Back then, of course, a 50-cent tip was more than generous and off I went to fill the order. Gradually, one customer turned into two and before you knew it, I had built up a steady clientele over the next year. I began taking orders for lunch and even had my mother bake muffins which were sold for a dime apiece.

That summer, I opened a lemonade stand on the construction site. As long as it was cold, workers quenched their thirst and compensated me plenty for such a treat.

“Round about that same year, I started a shoe shine stand outside my Dad’s luncheonette. Back then, people were wearing leather and not sneakers. My brother held down one corner and I took care of the other. We would conduct our business on Friday and Saturday evenings when people stepped out to the theater next door or wanted to look spiffy for the gals.

A shine went for two bits (a quarter) and there was a tip besides. On a good night, you raked in $5 which was big money then. Dad got his shoes shined for free which was his compensation. He could have taken a “cut” since it was his enterprise but he thought it was good, sound business savvy.

In fact, the whole luncheonette was an education in disguise, teaching me good customer relations which led to maturity and a better sense of responsibility.

As the years rolled on, I spent a summer working in a suitcase factory with no air-conditioning. It was a sweat box for sure and when you finished a hard day’s work, you needed some rest. These days, people leave work and go to the gym for exercise.

In between college stints, I had a job as a bookkeeper on a construction site in Boston, after which I moved across the street to a tobacco shop. Both jobs were as diverse as you could get. I put in some long hours with modest pay and benefited from the experience while earning money for school.

One of the better places I found was a butter and egg shop outside Harvard Square where people would buy coffee beans ready to be grounded and the best peanut butter you ever tasted. It wasn’t long after that I wound up in the newspaper field.

Little did I ever realize back in 1966 that my first journalism stint would be my last and I would spend the next four decades employed at the same paper.

Looking back at it all, I can honestly say that each day on each job was an adventure for me, good or bad. I’ve worked for some of the best bosses, and others who left something to be desired. I’m looking at today’s generation with some regret. The jobs aren’t as abundant and companies are downsizing if not closing.

More people are looking for positions than jobs—or jobs more than work. I may be the exception more than the rule for having gone steady with one basic job. The younger generation it seems would find that market unethical.

They seem to feel it’s not kosher to stay in one place for any length of time, but rather change jobs frequently in order to avoid stereotyping. My suggestion to those just starting out would be one of basic training.

Don’t quit looking for work when you find a job; rather, make the time a valuable commodity. Should you be one of the fortunate ones to be earning a salary right out of college, put in the time. It’s the work you put into the hours as opposed to the hours you put into a job.

Now that I’m retired, I have other concerns. I worry about whether my kids will remain gainfully employed with families to raise and houses to maintain. I think about family members and friends teetering on insecurity.

I see college grads, even professors, working menial jobs just to eke out a living. I only hope the scales of justice balances in their favor as the economy makes an upward swing.

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Tom Vartabedian

Tom Vartabedian is a retired journalist with the Haverhill Gazette, where he spent 40 years as an award-winning writer and photographer. He has volunteered his services for the past 46 years as a columnist and correspondent with the Armenian Weekly, where his pet project was the publication of a special issue of the AYF Olympics each September.

Latest posts by Tom Vartabedian (see all)

• Vartabedian: My Final Column - November 13, 2016
• A Hat to Match Any Occasion - October 19, 2016
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