A labor of love

My son just graduated from high school. By my decree, the day after the ceremony, he started his first 40-hour workweek. The goal was not to force him into a career, it was simply my way of immersing him in the reality of what it feels like to be beholden to a job for five days a week. 

He’s worked at a local grocery store for the past four years (he’s actually the longest tenured employee at that location, which is a sad statement on how hard it is to hold onto people). He only worked Sundays during the school year, while occasionally picking up extra shifts over the holidays.

Over the past couple summers, I’ve insisted that he work at least 20 hours a week, mostly to offset the money he spends on food and activities. But now that he’s now an official “adult,” I am adamant that he acts like one.

Most of the time, he works the self-checkout area but occasionally they throw him outside to collect carts and empty the trash. It’s good honest work, but not something most people would want to make a career out of.

Which is why I’m making him do it.

During the couple months between his recent graduation and a gap year adventure that he’s starting in the fall, I wanted him to face the harsh reality of working a service job for long hours. My hope is that the indignation of the experience would impress upon him a desire to find a vocation that aligns with who he is and what he is interested in.

I’ve told him on countless occasions: If you don’t make a plan with your life, life will make a plan for you… and you may not like what life has planned.

I worked at a record store in the mall during the summer after I graduated high school. I was so happy to have the job because I loved music. However, I learned quickly that standing around an empty store for hours making minimum wage was not how I wanted to spend my life. Luckily, I made the most it by perfecting my hacky sack skills and reading trade magazines.

During two college summers, a local teacher hired me to help him paint houses. He was a good guy who basically left me alone to do my share of the work. He was only critical with me about one thing: I was a perfectionist when it came to scraping paint off clapboards. He wasn’t wrong. There was something inside of me that never felt complete as long as I could see peeling paint.

He, on the other hand, barely had time for scraping. On occasion, I’d walk past his work and see fresh paint dripping off flakes that I could easily pop off with my fingernail. It drove me crazy.

He used to say, “Perfection is the enemy of the good enough!” after he critiqued my day’s work. And he was right. The guy was trying to make a living and being slow cost him money. I was just there to earn funds for partying later in the year.

I learned a couple other things during those summers. The first was how physically draining it is to climb up and down a ladder all day. Even the act of standing on a ladder for hours at a time — usually in the hot sun — was exhausting.

I also learned that certain jobs come with great risk to your health. On more than one occasion, I nearly toppled off a ladder while reaching too far to dab paint.

And then there was the time I climbed onto a slate roof in order to get to a hard-to-reach spot under the soffit. While inching my way down from the ridge, I started to slide on the slippery surface (of course, I wasn’t wearing the appropriate footwear, which was on me). I had had enough time to realize that I was going to go over the edge, which intensified the fear. However, in the luckiest moment of my life, I tumbled straight into a soft compost pile that the homeowner had been dumping in for years.

After that experience, I made up my mind that I didn’t want to die or be bored on the job. And if I didn’t get serious about my future, I may not have a choice in the matter.

I decided to go backwards in time for this week’s feature, which was released right around the period I was painting houses. “The Big Chill” is the story of a group of college friends who reconvene after 15 years when one member passes away. Their ensuing weekend together unleashes the pain and frustration of conforming to the world they used to fight so hard against. 

This is a beautifully smart comedy featuring an all-star cast of that time period, including Glenn Close, Jeff Goldblum, Kevin Kline, and William Hurt. If you remember this one fondly, given it another try. If you never seen it, you’re in for a treat.

A hardworking “B+” for “The Big Chill,” now available to stream on Amazon Prime. 

Got a question or comment for Dom? You can email him at moviediary@att.net.