I got my first job at a movie theater. I rode my bike there. The two guys who ran the place sucked. They were cruel, creepy and lazy. I lasted about a month. My second job was at the other theater. That was awesome. I met my people there. Hell, a bunch of them will probably read this.
I also met Her there. I was an usher and She worked the ticket booth. Our first First Date was a movie (Wall Street). Our second First Date was a movie (Quigley Down Under). A movie theater is still one of our happy places. And sometimes we eat popcorn for dinner…
I worked as a bartender for a while, at the weirdest “bar” ever. It was a Blimpies sub shop. But the brothers who owned the franchise very loosely followed the rules. They built a bar, and only about half the menu was Blimpies-endorsed. Terrible guys, but they ran a great place and knew how to employ college kids in a college town. We’d get a raise on every paycheck. It’d only be a nickel or a dime, but it encouraged low turnover.
Then I worked on campus at the TV station until graduation. That was a great job. Had fun, built a few quickly obsolete skills (TV technology changed at an astonishing speed in the 90’s).
She and I got married a week after graduation, and moved to Minneapolis.
During a scary and confidence-testing job hunt, I got a job as a bouncer. Look, I’m a far-left nerd from southeast Wyoming. I know bar fights and the stupidity of dudes and booze, but that job was crazy. I quit the night a guy wanted to stab me. And there was that bachelorette party… Yikes. Thankfully, I got my first job in my field a few months later. I worked in post-production for the next 25 years as a graphic designer, animator, and art director. I loved it. And then I didn’t. I’d developed a profound Career Fatigue. I still love and have a passion for the work, I just grew exhausted by the business. So I retired.
Now, I’m a domestician. I love that too. It may even be my favorite.
I’m telling you this, because as my family’s Lone Ne’er-Do-Well, it’s only shiftless freeloader, I’ve been feeling quite a bit of employment angst. And some guilt for my hypocrisy. You see, the other four members of the House of Hum have spent some time dealing with a variety of employment anxieties whilst I have not.
Last year was a Shit Show. For all kinds of reasons, some having nothing to do with a certain virus. Nothing has seem locked in, so many unknowns. I’ve always required a certain amount of chaos, but this many variables has been stressing me out. I just want everyone happy and secure.
And I think we’re getting there. This year won’t just be Wedding Year I think, though it’ll almost certainly be Mainly Wedding Year. It’ll also be New Jobs Year.
Now, back to my hypocrisy. I left my last staff job in ‘06 and “went freelance”. It suited me. I work better as mercenary. I think I’m a people person, but I’m also not at my best in a team setting. Anyway, that put me in an unusual situation. I was a full-time designer, but also a stay-at-home dad. I became an oddity. The rare Volunteer Dad. There were, shamefully, very few of us. In fact, I was the only one most of the time. Don’t get me wrong, there were a few dads that volunteered regularly as their jobs would allow (though nowhere near enough), but there were no other Mr. Domesticians around.
**A little side-story: I also, at the time, had very long hair, a beard, earrings, and am quite tattooed. It took a bit of time before the kids stopped pointing and saying “Stranger Danger!”
During that time I learned a lot about being a homemaker.
One thing I learned that doesn’t get addressed, ever, is the mental and emotional strength it takes to work that hard while having so little financial agency. Her career belongs to Her and only Her, but my life hinges on that paycheck too, and I’ve no say in it’s day-to-day wellbeing. And I shouldn’t. But it also needs acknowledging that that is a difficult position to be in. It requires faith, resilience, and adaptability. Sometimes it’s hard feeling out of control.
I’ve been lucky. She’s patient, and understands all of this. But I know, and have known for years, that a lot of women, moms and wives, haven’t been as lucky as I have. They don’t make a home for someone who sees her as an equal. They’re not often enough treated as contributors by their neighbors, or other parents, or our society. It is, much too often, a literally thankless job.
This isn’t a position paper, I don’t care what kind of home you live in, you do you. I put no stock in traditional roles (obviously), and will not abide those who believe they get to decide another person’s “place”. But, and I know these days there’s little room for nuance, I do wish we would hold in equal regard to those who’ve chosen otherwise those that choose to be a homemaker.
I’ve often called cooking, cleaning, laundry and grocery shopping my job. She chafes at that, I think because She doesn’t want me to think that’s what She thinks. But I want Her to understand that I don’t care if that’s what She thinks. It’s my job, and I love this job. Marriage is a partnership, and there are things that need doing. I handle everything I can, so that when She’s done handling the stuff only She can, we can do the fun stuff.
Like go to a movie.
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