| I had | You had | So |
|---|---|---|
| A stupid job in my 20s | A stupid job in your 20s | Let’s reflect |
Thirty years ago, I worked as a reporter at Billboard Publications. Now when I say Billboard Publications, I’m telling the truth. But I’m also kind of lying.
Because although I want you to believe — and I also wanted to believe — I wrote for Billboard Magazine, the very cool music industry magazine, I did not.
Nope. Instead, I wrote for a magazine that was part of Billboard Publications, which unfortunately for all involved, was called Amusement Business.
Which meant I spent three years racing around the country covering fairs, festivals, concert tours, carnivals, carnies, sideshows, concessions, lizard men, freak shows, fried-dough makers.
I was paid basically 13 cents a day and wrote about 7 – 10 stories a week.
But there turned out to be a hidden treasure. Amusement Business had such a low bar of journalism, that one day, despite my prior experience of zero, they gave me my own column.
“Yup, that’s what you’re going to do,” boomed Tom Powell, our editor in chief, into his phone in Nashville, TN.
“But, but….really?” I squeaked back into my phone in New York City. “I mean, what would I call it? And what would I write about?”
“That’s for you to figure out.” I imagined Tom patting his mountainous Colonel Sanders belly as he said this.
It was 1991. I was 25 years old with a mean case of undiagnosed ADD and commitment anxiety to any one subject, person or thing.
I called my marketing wizard friend Jason, who had a much better job than me, and told him the quandary.
“Call it ‘It’s None of My Business, But….’ That way you can write about whatever the hell you want and anyway, that about sums you up.”
So that’s what I did. Every two weeks, I faced that blank page with a mortal fear. I wrote about weighty issues, like dog food and Bruce Springsteen and how the carnival people buried their money in frozen chicken cavities. Over time, a great connection grew between me and my readers, back when that meant people actually talked to each other.
It’s been nearly 30 years since then, and luckily for everyone, Amusement Business no longer exists. I’m guessing that after all those Nashville lunches of fried pickles and biscuits and gravy, Tom’s probably long gone, too.
But just about three decades later, I’m looking back at that shitty job and thinking how in some ways, it’s all led to this.
Why? Because all roads lead to where you are. Every single one of them. Just like they always do, whether we see it in the moment or not.
So here I am. Your personal columnist. Fifty two years old and a lot more shit to get into.
When it came time to name my blog, well, how could I not?
It’s None of My Business, But…
This one’s for you, Tom.
Now tell me, friends, what shitty job did you have in your 20’s? And how did it help you get here now?
—
Next up: What we learned on our (circus-like) spring break college tour with our son, Sam.
17 thoughts on “Why We Had Crappy Jobs In Our 20s”
For many reasons, the focus of my life today is GRATITUDE. I had a variety of jobs in my 20’s, but I wouldn’t classify any of them as “crappy.”
• Teaching in a high school in the Bahamas (Age 20)
• Teaching at Bellarmine College Prep in San José (Ages 22-25)
• Night security guard at the Santa Clara Mission Cemetery! (Ages 22-25)
• Teaching & Youth Ministry at a parish in San José (Ages 25-29)
The cemetery job was unique, to say the least, but it provided me ample time for reading, writing, and lesson planning.
Among other things, I was an admin for a guy who subscribed to Amusement Business! I’m around your age so I probably read your column while tagging articles for my boss to read!
that’s crazy! amazing! what kind of admin guy?
I worked for an Senior VP and Assistant General Counsel at Ogden, the concessions company. Talk about a small world!
Hmmm…working warehouse inventory for used college textbooks. Pretty mind-numbing, but some useful book trivia for life today! ❤️
all roads! ❤️
Remember the dude in the Dunkin’ Doughnuts commercial? “Time to make the doughnuts!” That was me…rolling out of my dorm at 3:15 a.m. to get to the bakery on time, when most of my dorm mates were just rolling in 🙄
that was my dream….
You’ve got me thinking…when I was 20 and finishing college, I wrote news copy in a country music station as the only female in a rough-talking group of degenerates. I have no doubt that it contributed to many of my future life choices!! 😀
news copy for a country music station?? that’s so novel! and I bet it helped you gain your strength as a female voice now, which is so strong and important to your identity
Love this! Hostess at a Fort Lauderdale hot spot restaurant… I have to think about how that led to where I am now… Maybe you have something to offer! ❤️
I see you as the consummate hostess and 2-platform. Our lifelong journey….
Game on! Hadn’t imagined that it would this much fun to read your musings. Love it and can’t wait for more
thanks Jo. love you
Wow! So excited for you!! What a way to dive right in to this next chapter in your life.
Can’t wait to read more💜👏🍾
Thanks Lisa xo
Ah, the glory days. In my 20s, I spent a fair chunk of time working as a computer tech and instructor for Chico State Library Services and University Housing and Food Service—and, shockingly, I actually liked it. Not that I was raking in the big bucks, mind you. I could barely afford ramen, but there was something about the whole experience that made me feel important, particularly when I was teaching faculty how to use technology that, let’s face it, scared them a little.
Then there was my time at Long’s, where I was a cosmetics assistant. Yes, really. And you know what? I loved that too. Long’s, back when it was family-owned, took great care of its employees. I wasn’t exactly aiming for a long-term career in beauty retail—this was purely to pay for my living expenses while in school—but it was surprisingly fun.
But then, at 28, I hit the jackpot and landed the dream job. You know the one—where you think, “This is it. This is where I’m going to be forever.” For me, that was working for LEGO. Oh yeah, that LEGO. I was the Quality Assurance Manager for LEGO Media and then moved over to do the same for their Research & Development Labs. I mean, come on—working for the company that makes the “Toy of the Century”? It was pure joy. The culture was incredible, the leadership team was kind and supportive, and the work was just… fun. Like, genuinely fun. If LEGO hadn’t packed up their development team and left North America, I would have been a lifer. No question about it.
Since then? Well, let’s just say I’ve been on an eternal quest for that same magic. Spoiler: I haven’t found it. I miss it terribly. And now, here I am in my 50s, watching my friends’ kids march into adulthood, while my own is a freshly minted 7-year-old. I made the decision, in all its wonderful, maddening, and sometimes downright confusing glory, to be a stay-at-home mom. And, of course, I daydream about LEGO—a lot. I mean, I was at the top of my game! Respected, making an impact, working for LEGO. I was helping to shape something that brought joy to people all over the world. These days, my audience is one little human, and while I wouldn’t trade him for all the LEGO bricks in Denmark, I can’t help but reminisce about the days when I worked for a place that felt like family.