There I was minding my own business eating $6 soup in $100 Khakis when... "You're fired!"
John Bobey is a writer living in New York and is a regular contributor to the Bills Khakis Newsletter. This month, he explores the realities of doing what he loves for a living.
I had just gotten some lunch.soup from Whole Foods-chicken with vegetables and rice. It cost more than any bowl of soup has a right, but what the heck-I was flush. Three years into a job writing for a cable news host, my life was good. And just then, two spoonfuls in, my phone rang. It was my executive producer asking me to meet him down in Human Resources. You can probably guess the rest.the boss doesn't tend to call you from HR with good news. Usually it's with a somber face and instructions as to where you can find a cardboard box for your stuff. And there it was. By the time I got back to my $6.00 soup, it was cold.
I didn't need a box-I'd been down this road before and learned that it's best to keep workplace personal effects to a minimum. I left with my head held high, pen clinched in hand, and nothing but the clothes on my back (blue blazer & Bills Model 2 Khaki Twills). The thing is, I love writing and this kind of bad day is the price of admission to all the others that are pretty good. I gladly accept it, right along with the good and bad ones that surely lie ahead. But a lot of people just don't understand why I keep coming back for more.
For a long time, even my dad couldn't understand my life as a writer. Why I didn't join the service (all his brothers had, and he did his own hitch in the Army, guarding the shores of Maryland). Even my Nana thought I was making a mistake-one of the neighbor's kids had started at the slaughter house sweeping up, and now he was cutting meat! She wasn't wrong-she grew up in a world where people had jobs, not careers (and a butcher's family never starves).
My dad assembled air conditioners, drove a milk truck and worked most of his years in a factory that made plastic bread bags. It paid well and came with benefits. In his eyes, he had it pretty easy, especially since his father had worked in the Pennsylvania coal mines until Black Lung got the best of him. I know that's all my dad wanted for me, a better life, but the life I ended up choosing was completely foreign to him. I was the first person in my family to go to college. I come from a long line of laborers-mine are the first Bobey hands without calluses. When I studied writing and popular music history in college, dad shook his head. When I decided to move to New York ("And pay how much for an apartment?"), he thought I was nuts. Even friends of mine who are in "the business" have trouble understanding why I'm staying the course.
See, I still view writing with the sensibility of a romantic, and I'm afraid to say I have less and less company (granted, were F. Scott alive today, I doubt he'd be writing for CNN.or that I'd get to call him F. Scott). I was telling a colleague that I feel a bit like the modern day equivalent of someone who makes buggy whips. He corrected me by saying I don't just make buggy whips-I make high-end buggy whips. Ouch-extra useless. Yeah, he's probably right-there's not a whole lot of reverence for the written word on most channels these days. But the truth is, I've always felt like the joke was on them, because there's never been a job I've taken that I wouldn't have done so for a lot less.
My friend put it best when he reminded me that his grandfather's generation couldn't imagine doing work that they enjoyed, and our generation can't imagine doing work that we don't enjoy. I've lived a life filled with more choices than obligations, and I try to not take that for granted. And my dad seems to be coming around- He finally seems to understand that being "fulfilled" is something I've chosen over the security of a trade. (I think it's all part of the same awakening men experience after retirement, when they become fascinated by the weather and the Discovery Channel.as though they suddenly have time and energy to be "interested" in things.)
So I'm taking this latest lay-off in stride. I'm well rested, taking plenty of walks, something will break eventually. And when it does, I'll report for duty armed with my pen, blue blazer and Bills Khakis. In the meantime, I think I'll do some writing, watch some Discovery Channel and see where my dad currently stands on global warming.