HOW I SPENT MY SUMMER VACATION AFTER AGE 12
AND THE REST OF MY LIFE
Day one,.............. okay, okay before we begin let's go back to the front of the start of this whole thing. I was born to Gordon and Myrtle Niles ( maybe not that far). let's try first job.
My first paying job was was a paper route for the 'Vancouver Sun Newspaper'. At the seasoned age of twelve, it was my responsibility to make sure that 'Joe Homeowner', was daily kept current to world events in printed news.
I learned at an early age, that no matter the weather, rain, snow or storm, the daily news, just like the mail, must get through. No matter what it took, I had to plop that two pound block of newsprint at the front door in a pristine condition. Which wasn't easy! I had to jump ditches, squeeze through overgrown shrubs encasing the walkway, climb slippery treacherous stairs, and then, beat off the family dog that was trying to stop the very thing his master swatted him with from being dropped at his door. What happened after that?.............not my problem. But, in my defense, of my 'don't care' attitude did feel bad when the paper blew out of the driveway before I could.
My after school paper route in grade seven, soon gave way to a grade eight education and girls, but not in that order. But, I too soon found out that if you want to be with girls, they want you to have money. And if money wasn't coming in.......you were staying in.....alone.
So because of my God given desires (it can't be all my fault) and a need for currency with which to purchase a date (sounds dirty doesn't it?) I got a summer job. I sat out on an open sun drenched God forsaken (here He is again) empty lot, with no running water or toilet at the corner of Fourth and Burrard in Vancouver cleaning used bricks for a penny and a half a piece.
IF,....IF you worked hard you could make 18-20$ a day! Drinking water from an old bleach bottle from home, and eating warm baloney sandwiches Mom had put together the night before. Thanks Mom! Bathroom breaks? I don't think I went to the bathroom that summer. When you're young you can do stuff like that.
During those long hot days of tedious labour, what got me through the day was thinking of all the money you're making and the girls you're going to spend it on. But as it turned out, the times thought about spending your money, lasted longer than the money it's self.
The summer after Grade 9 was probably a mirrored reflection of the previous summer. Work work work work work, "Hi girls!," work work work work! To sum it up in one word, 'I wish I knew then what I know now' If you say it fast it's one word to the Chinese.
The summer after Grade 10 turned out to be the start of a job that would become a career for me. Plumbing! That's right, pooh flows downhill, don't bite your fingernails and paydays Friday! The End. Well not quite. Mr. Wagar, the best boss in the whole world said I had to finish school. So I did, but with an additude. I mean who needs school, I'm already promised a job. How is 'History 12' gonna help? Eyes awl red smarte. Well good enough for for being a plumber I figured.
So I floated through grades 11-12, armed with the knowledge that I would never again be able tot bite my fingernails after school was finished.
Half way through Grade 12 I was offered a job at a steak house, the 'Keg and Cleaver'. I was Broiler Assistant. The dirtiest, hottest job there. Behind the grill all night helping the cook throw out sometimes over a thousand meals. Then, at the end of all the fun and free time, you got to clean up the grill, all by your self. I would roll into bed at two in the morning and then make it into school the next day all bright eyed and bushy tailed. Ya right! After a month there, I was offered the job of cook. All it was was steaks and baked potatoes back then with mushrooms on the side. In the month I had worked there I knew already how to do it, so I did it. I took it.
The 'Keg', as it later became known by, was growing leaps and bounds, and believe me, not because of my cooking. A career in the restaurant business was offered to me because.....?..well,..I don't really know. Probably it was one of them 'Better the devil you know than the one you don't' kinda things. But hey! I'm gonna have long fingernails and be a plumber. So after six months at the 'Gag and Heave-er' as we who worked there affectionately referred to her as, I put down the meat, threw away the books (oh ya I was going to school sometime in that stretch) and picked up a shovel and never looked back.
The End? Not yet oh dreary eyed one.
After four years of watching water flow downhill, and having everything you wear covered in glue I was thinking of maybe a less physical type of way to pass the day.
Sales! ......That's it I'll be a Salesman! And so it was, and I did, I was a Salesman. I worked for a business that had the Canadian Rights to the Hurst Hatch Roof. The answer to 'How to have an open roof on your car, and not be a convertible'. You know the roof, the one on the Trans Am that Burt Reynolds drove around in, in the movie 'Smokey and the Bandit' sales were great! I was selling an after market sun-roof system for Trans Ams, Cameros, Montey Carlos..........I was soon transferred to Toronto to set up an office there. And when I say transfer I mean drive. I drove to Toronto and sold product along the way. After three months in Toronto I flew back home. Lonely. Met up with my old girlfriend, got engaged and decided to quit that job and transfer back to Vancouver. Or was it she that decided? But my car is back in Toronto. So because of poor timing (should of quit after I'd flown back to Toronto on the company credit card) and the cost of air travel, I took a bus back to my car.
Back home and soon to be married, for the first time, as it worked out, I went back to not biting my fingernails and the quest of having ones body waste, flow out of ones abode in an orderly downhill fashion. The End Right!!!!
Well....I mean I loved plumbing, Bill Wagar was the best boss one could ever hope to work for. And, we did jobs all over this great Province of British Columbia. Fort Nelson, Fort St. John, Queen Charlotte Islands, Cassiar, Osyoose, Tumbler Ridge, Taylor Flats, Mile 101, Nacusp and many more. All in need of a waste system with a downhill flow. And that's what we gave them......that is until the worlds best boss past away. Heart attack! I still miss him to this day.
Somewhere in all this before Bill died I got divorced . Working out of town was hard on a marriage with a new born child. This was followed of years walking in the wilderness with little or no direction. Then I met a wonderful woman with two children and settled into a mixed family filled with challenges and rewards. Now 31 and on my own, I started doing my own plumbing jobs. I did a lot of three -plexs with a coach house at the back all around City Hall in Vancouver. This lasted several years, with down time filled by helping other plumbers when they were too busy. It was while there, doing a commercial building for another plumber that I fell off a ten foot step ladder on to the concrete that I smashed my left hand and crack my elbow that made it possible to bite my fingernails again, and for the rest of my life. The fall left me with an external framework of stainless steel held together with pins, nuts and bolts protruding from my left wrist for six weeks. After three more operations and eight months of physical therapy I was left with a life of pills for pain and nerve damage and a wrist, though normal in appearance, but lacking in dexterity and feeling. There's a Country Music song somewhere in here. 'It's my Wrist Thats Left and the Pain Stayed On' Boo Hoo!
Ya but what did you do after that?
Okay.....since you asked,
I started work for the worlds new best boss, Ron Rubuliak. We install water piping for fire suppression systems in home and business. It's kind of like plumbing but without the need for finger dexterity in finicky little places.
But now I'm sort of done that after 18 years. I'm available two days a week for work with him, because I daycare my granddaughters three days a week. I run 'Grandpas Dont Care Daycare'. Got a runny nose? Don't care, use your sleeve. Gotta owie? Don't care, run some cold water on it! Got a dirty diaper? Don't care your Moms back at five! You get the idea. At my prices I can't afford to care. I talk tough but it's the best job I've ever had and am truly blessed to have the opportunity to take care of my grandchildren. If money bought happiness.....I'm richer than Bill Gates. Okay maybe not Bill but some other rich guy.
So it's here where I find myself in life, six years from what most people consider retirement age, babysitting a five and eight year old girl, with twin boys on the side, all so the kids don't have to pay the high cost of daycare. The Good Lord has blessed my wife with a good paying job to support both of us. We've no mortgage or car payments and are debt free. How this all happened I have no idea. But it's great and life is good!
So......July 15th. 2014 The End. (for now)
bobby did this