The clipping boy
Some of my early jobs never made it to the point of being included on a resume. But, they were jobs nonetheless. At one point I was hired because I was punctual and polite. Also, I could read and use paper scissors. The local university like any large operation tries to keep track of what others are saying about it. And so I became the clipping service. Once a week I would show up at a small office take a place at the desk and sort out that week’s newspapers. From all across the province. Then I would read or skim until I found a mention of the university. I would clip it out and date it, carefully. I did not have to read them aloud. These would just go into a folder so that if ever the question came up there was no need to quote into the bins looking for old newspapers. It was a job at a time when jobs did not pay much but my costs of life were low. And I did have dreams. I imagine some point in future where that office would decide that I was the only person suitable for a full time roll. As a paper Clipper or whatever. That never happened but I did find other things to do for them that would keep me with regular pay. I took photographs at a time when that actually meant something. I would deliver newsletters to drop boxes around the campus. And I would do my own garbage pickup. A complete solution to a small problem. The experience did me well. I was able to make the connection between giving what people said about you substance. Small pieces of news print if you will. And I took it to heart that no mention is too small when you have to justify a large budget. Paying some kid to do cutouts made sense. A lifetime later I have no idea if the position ever became large or permanent. I had moved on to other things. But I remember the wind and the wear and then notice that even small mentions are important to some people.
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