Like something out of a John Prine song, my granddad was a carpenter. I say “was” but the use of the past tense is not entirely accurate. He worked as a professional carpenter from the late 1940s into the 1980s, at which point he went on full disability with a broken back.

The reality, however, is that the disc fusion surgery he had to fix his back, the second such operation he’d undergone, was very successful. He now wakes each morning with fairly serious aches and pains, and has since he was in his mid-50s, but at the age of 81 he ignores the pain as only a stoic can and is as much a carpenter now as he was while still a young adult.

I know this from first-hand experience because the French doors and crown moulding in my first house were installed by my grandfather and me – mostly the former, as I was at that time a new initiate into the world of carpentry and home improvement. My second house, purchased two years later, was a significant upgrade. Again, the chair-rail moulding, hardwood floors and new electrical outlets were his doing, this time with more significant assistance from yours truly. Finally, the tile, extra electrical outlets and baseboard moulding in my office and the door stop and door hardware in my newest home are the result of our joint efforts as well. I could fill up the rest of this article space noting the other projects we’ve worked on, including an addition we put on my brother’s house two years ago. Suffice to say, the old man has still got it.

Throughout the course of working with my granddad, and during the frequent card games between my grandmother, grandfather and me, I’ve heard a number of stories about the old days. One in particular stands out. In the 1960s, while still a fairly young man, my grandfather was an enthusiastic deer hunter and looked forward to his annual hunting trip with friends. As such, he had a standing vacation at the company where he worked, McClean Contracting. Each year, he and his friends would travel to Pennsylvania on the day after Thanksgiving and stay there in a cabin in the woods until December 5, when the deer season ended. He had taken this trip for years on end and had let his boss know about it well in advance each year.

During a particularly busy year, however, he casually mentioned to his immediate boss, the carpentry superintendent, “today is my last day until December 6”. This was on the day before Thanksgiving and, though his vacation request had been submitted and accepted months before, his boss replied “I’m not sure the big boss is going to go for that”. Sure enough, after speaking with the time keeper and job site superintendent, his immediate boss let him know that “the boss” would not grant his vacation request this year. My grandfather, in true smart-ass fashion, replied, “Well, which boss said so? Because I have a lot of bosses – you, the job super, the president, and my wife. And my wife says I can go. After all, I just spent $400 on a new rifle, cartridges and a new hunting outfit”. Note that money was tight then, and to spend that amount on hunting gear and then not be allowed to use it would have been met with scorn by my rather strong-willed grandmother.

At the end of this conversation, my grandfather made it clear that he was going hunting, as planned and promised, and further pointed out to his immediate boss that he wasn’t being paid for his vacation time, so this should be a moot point. Despite that, he was informed by the job site superintendent that if he didn’t come to work the following Monday, he shouldn’t come back at all. He replied that he was going hunting no matter what and that he didn’t need the job at McClean – I have a job “in my hip pocket”, he noted, with some satisfaction.

The day after a successful hunting trip in which he brought back two deer, granddad went to work with a local housing contractor with whom he’d worked in the past. The owner of the company, Ralph, let my grandfather know that because he worked quickly and diligently, and was so good at what he did, he had a job with his company anytime he wanted it, whether long-term or for just a few days at a time. On that particular day, December 6, McClean Contracting called the house and spoke with my grandmother, who informed the job site super there that “John’s gone to work – I don’t ask where, I just know he goes to work everyday”. They asked her to have him come to the job site the following day to talk to them, which he did.

After some meetings and phone calls, he was informed by the carpentry superintendent that “I got your job back for you, John”. Oddly, the time keeper and job site superintendent also told him they got his job back for him. After that, he was asked to drive to the company President’s house, where he was again informed by the President that “I got your job back for you”. Finding this humorous, my grandfather said he’d rather take that day off since it was already late, and come back in the following day.

His job with his friend Ralph was still firmly in his “hip pocket” but the bluster from those above him at McClean was clearly just that – bluster. In reality, because he worked hard, was highly skilled and never missed work except for his annual hunting trip, they couldn’t really afford to let him go. That particular year, however, he dictated to them how things were going to be and backed up his claims by seamlessly heading off to work the day after returning from his trip, without so much as a phone call. In short, he really did have a job in his hip pocket, and would have even if he hadn’t been able to work for Ralph because he had so many contacts in his industry. As another aside, he asked for and received a raise the following week, thus further driving home his point.

When considering this story more closely, I began wondering if such a situation would exist in the present day. The answer, of course, is that it probably does within certain industries that rely on skilled labor – like carpentry, electrical work, plumbing, etc., because these services are always deemed essential and one can often work as an individual contractor if possessing the requisite initiative. In my world, however, which involves a white collar and cups of coffee at a desk, I’m not sure it exists at all. There was a time, for instance, when IT professionals had their pick of jobs and could dictate terms to such an extent that their situation closely mirrored that of my grandfather’s 40 years ago. Now, however, with overseas outsourcing being the norm, the IT industry has seemingly become one with little job security.

In other professional services industries, the situation is a bit different because there is very little overseas outsourcing, but the overall effect is the same. An individual accountant, attorney or financial services employee who asked for or demanded too much from his employers would likely be let go in favor of a new applicant without so much as a backward glance. Unionization in such industries is anathema, and striking out alone as a provider of professional services generally requires more startup capital than becoming a contractor. At lower level positions that don’t easily translate to self-employment opportunities, the problem is even more pronounced, so that “wage slave” is a term that has as much meaning now as it did 50 years ago.

While employee protections are much more intense now than then, there are still millions of unhappy American employees who feel they have little choice when it comes to their jobs. I may be stretching a bit here, but it seems that on a sociological and philosophical level, this leads to a restlessness and hopelessness that has far-reaching effects on every aspect of daily life and is likely responsible for the continuing “news flash” instances of senseless violence for which we as a country seemingly have no solution. Perhaps we all need a job in our hip pockets, or just a greater sense of entitlement at work, to make it through intact.

Tags: blue collar jobs, carpenter jobs, job security

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