It is interesting how smells identify certain periods of my life. The smell of hot, humid August mornings remind me of 3-4 years of working in the fields for Stokely Van Camp canning company "weeding beets". You had to be 12 years old. I'd like to say it was a voluntary thing, but my mom said "you will work". She controlled the environment. She kicked my ass out of bed, made me a fabulous brown bag lunch (remember she was German) and she filled a gallon thermos with lemonade or kool-aid. I think we left the local factory to go the the selected fields by covered truck at 7:00 AM.
Stokely contracted with farmers to grow beets and the only way to insure a healthy crop was to have "slave 12-15 year old kids" pick the weeds away from the healthy plants early in the growth cycle. So here I was, out in the hot sun, picking weeds from beet plants for 6-8 hours a day. You learned to wear long sleeve shirts and straw hats.
We were paid by the row. Each row of beets was given a value and when we finished a row, we punched a card and at the end of the week were paid accordingly. My recollection is that we made $5-7 per day or $35 per week. It doesn't sound like a lot, but in today's dollars it is probably equivalent to $125 to $150 a week.
Actually my parents were very cunning. First, by working I couldn't get into any trouble. Second, I was earning money which took the pressure off them to provide discretionary spending. Third, it was a great way to teach a work ethic and finally, they knew where I was.
The money was great. I was a saver but I would always keep money to spend. Cokes, potato chips, brats at Uncle Ottos, french fies at the Sunnyside Restaurant, movies, and comic books. No girls yet!
One side story. My first experience in financial management came into play. The man that managed our crew was a nice gentleman named Otto Baer. He could not read or write. So when the crews were in the fields, he would ask me questions about how to fill out required forms and eventually I took over all punching and accounting of row management. I decided that if I was going to do Otto's job, I should be paid additional. I remember meeting with with the General Manager of the Stokely plant and making my case for more money. I think he patted me on the head and said that I was a "good boy". No more money! Bastard! I guess I could have stopped helping Otto but he was such a nice man. So as with all my jobs in life, I was underpaid.
I watch kids sit around all summer with nothing to do except play video games, go to soccer and baseball occasionally and complain about being bored. Maybe teaching a good work ethic should be the goal.
Now ask me if I forced my kids to work in the summer! I admit I did a poor job of creating the environment where the kids knew they had to work and earn money. I wish I could go back and do that again.
The beet weeding "gig" led to working inside the Stokely factory when I turned 16. Then my pay went to $1.06 per hour. Pretty spectacular, huh!
So when I step out of my car at 7:00 AM to walk each day on hot humid mornings, it smells like "beet weeding" days. It is a good smell.
The lesson Grasshoppers is "teach your kids a strong work ethic". It will help them navigate life travails.
Love,
Dad
Hey I remember one of my first jobs....it was working 3rd shift at a gas station....which of course meant that I could buy beer underage and put it in the back of the car for later use....you need to write a blog about working smart not hard, you taught us that also.