When I asked a good friend what her son was doing, she said he was looking for work.

In my 87 years I have looked for bush mowing jobs and I have looked for speaking jobs. Because I could not hold down an 8-to-5 job, like my friend who buys junk and sells antiques, I have never looked for respectable work.

So I don’t know how difficult it might be to find a job.

The last time I had an 8-to-5 job was in 1957 when I went to Rochester, New York, to seek my fortune. I think it paid $1.56 an hour which was three times the amount I’d been getting in the service. So it was like a person making $40,000 a year who is suddenly making $120,000. I lived high on the hog.

When I asked the woman purser to put $25 each week into savings she made a face and said I couldn’t live on what was left. Couldn’t live on the remainder? At home I could collect junk cars: $10 for a ’38 Buick – $15 for a ’34 Ford coupe. Much like Boston or New York City, in Rochester there was no place to go and nothing to spend money on. I didn’t know how to meet girls. I never drank or smoked. Food and rent were covered. I bought my first winter coat. I bought a suit. I am not qualified to speak on the job market today.

Other than to say that, these days, when you want something done to your home or body, you must get down on your knees and ask Mother Nature to do what she can to get you help. Within two months, if possible.


It took me that long to get in to have my throat analyzed. It didn’t want to swallow. The gurus looked and passed me on to X-ray. I’m still waiting on that. And yet I know of a doctor who gave up his practice, which had people standing in line, because he said he couldn’t make a living doing it.

So there is something funny going on with the economic system that I don’t understand.

I begged a man to look at my house, which I wanted him to paint, and he never came by. It was only through Facebook that a “friend” in Bangor put me in touch with Gary, who did the job at a doable price and did it well. It took years to find him.

The only reason I have a man who will mow my lawn is because his employer died. He does a wonderful job, but there is $60 in cash that I owe him, here by my computer screen – you have seen it if you’ve visited me over the past two weeks. I have even emailed his home and asked him to see me. He still hasn’t come by and that was several days ago.

Many years ago, people were beating down my doors to collect money. Now that I have it they don’t want it.

I could name several other projects around the farm that I would like to have attended to. They are not done because people who could do them have bigger and better things to do. I would like to have a new power cable. I won’t live to see it done. We were lucky to find a man, I dare not mention his name, who hooked up the pipes to our washing machine. I considered this chore to be impossible. Only my wife’s constant lobbying got it done.


It seems to me that if you are willing to apprentice long enough to learn how to scrape and paint a house, or stick two wires or two pipes together, you will no longer answer your phone because it will be ringing off the hook, 24-7. You can name your fee. These are jobs where you have to take the initiative and not just show up.

I know that there are men who can’t work because I have always been one of them. They had best find a strong woman and marry her.

Marsha and I have had a happy marriage because we do things together. She works and I get out of her way.

The humble Farmer can be visited at: www.thehumblefarmer.com/

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