I have always had an unnatural relationship with the time clock anywhere I have worked.
I took a moment recently to look back over my work history.
Despite having been born in the US, my approach to work has always been that of a starving immigrant.
I missed work the day I was born.
My father came by my hospital crib and told me to quit crying, there are no free rides.
Shortly thereafter, I had my first job, sweeping up at the hospital.
At multiple times in my life, I have found myself with several jobs, like some sort of albino Jamaican.
The family businesses were automobile repair and food service. So I was grubby but well fed.
It was better than our next door neighbor was in textiles so his children worked in the mill.
Their lack of hands due to mill accidents made them poor playmates.
I was never really allowed to play with children that were not gainfully employed.
I grew up in a time where child labor laws were much more relaxed and kids were allowed the privilege of bringing home a decent paycheck.
I have filled out a W4 with a crayon.
I have only been on unemployment 2 times in my life and it was embarrassing, both times. (No joke there, sadly.)
My kids have great work ethics, something that I am wholly proud of.
You may be wondering what has me waxing poetic about the workplace.
Because I saw someone fired today.
Fired for not showing up for work.
Usually that sort of thing is nipped in the bud fairly quickly.
However, when the person is hired to answer the phones at 4am when no one else is there, it takes awhile.
The thing I keep coming back to is the not showing up for work.
Its like deciding not to breathe anymore.
They are lucky they were not raised by my father.
I don’t care what age you are, man or woman, you get fired for not showing up for work in my family, you are getting your ass beat.
And you would have it coming.
Its getting to the point that if you have a strong work ethic, its so rare that its like you know magic.
In a certain sense, I guess my issue with them being fired is that I am incapable of understanding it.
At its core, the decision was made not to bring in an income.
Which hurts the family.
This is where the entire problem is.
It is tattooed into my DNA that above all, you don’t hurt the family.
I hope they learned their lesson in being fired.
Or any lesson, really.
Nobody seems to learn any lessons these days.
When I was a kid, there were a lot of lessons I learned.
All of them had the same moral to the story.
Don’t hurt the family.
Because family is everything.
Thus endith the lesson.