The Summer of My Clip-On Name Tag (or, Loves Labor Days Renewed)

Mark. My first name, in plastic, on a small clip. People readily took to using it, too, all summer. Mostly folks I didn’t know. An interesting departure from my full-time gig, where students and staff alike universally refer to me as ‘Mr. Lucker.’

IMG_20140901_120110It had been a few years.

I have written before of my rather, ummm, varied career (radio announcer to hotelier to social service case manager to corporate trainer to high school English teacher) and the numerous detours and sidelines I had earned money on along the way. (Check out my poetry blog for more on THAT topic ( http://markluckerpoet.wordpress.com/2014/04/26/walking-down-sesame-street-with-studs-terkel-at-graduation-time/ )

This summer fit right into my life’s working-guy theme. (English teachers are big on things like ‘theme’ in a narrative).

It was an interesting adventure.

I needed to make some money in my ‘off’ ‘ time and the chances of me doing it in my present locale seemed iffy, at best. Summer work is hard to come by in New Orleans, where, due to heat, humidity and threat of hurricanes, tourist season goes into a dormant period; here is not much temp or part-time work to be found. Hence my brainstorm: I would need to be in Minnesota for my daughter’s sisterssludge2014wedding come the end of July, so instead of (maybe) finding something then having to bail, why not work in my old hometown for the summer? I could stay at my mom’s, help her out with some stuff, get reacquainted with some old friends. I even lined up an art exhibit at Sisters Sludge, an old-stomping-grounds coffeehouse.

I’m clever that way.

During my previous career incarnations, I often supplemented my income with temp work through a variety of staffing services. In late spring, I contacted ProStaff – whom I worked for so long and so well for over fifteen years. An emailed resume and an office appointment to complete paperwork, and I was ready to go.

There was irony and symmetry in how that played out.

IMG_20140622_231206In short order, I got my first assignment: at a downtown hotel as part of the host staff for an international convention for management accountants. It was not the hotel where I had spent nearly a decade, but a hotel that I knew well. A temporary name tag in conventioneer plastic holder and I was set to go.

Working, essentially, as a mercenary concierge, I immediately took to the gig and made it my own. Like riding a bike, I foamboardquickly adapted and remembered why I enjoyed my hotel years. It was an enjoyable three days.

And, contrary to any stereotypes, the accounting folks were anything but staid, soulless, number-crunchers. They were, in fact, a lot of fun, and they were also helpful, as they allowed me to come back post-convention and take all of their high-end foam core signage that would have just been thrown out. Six-by-four foot sheets of top-quality stuff that come in handy in a classroom, and that I also used as the backing for some of the artwork I put together for the art showing.

The hotel was the ironic gig.

The symmetry came when fine folks at ProStaff then found me a longer term assignment working with an on-line university adapting materials for students needing accommodations. Interesting summer work for a teacher, very enlightening to get a different Ginellisperspective on that end of educational accommodations. Plus, the unit was a fun-loving group and we had more than a few laughs. It didn’t hurt that, being a teacher, I understood the basic concepts of what we were trying to do as well as the terminology. It was a good, easy fit for a temp job.

Plus, I got to roam the downtown Minneapolis Skyway system and even got to have lunch at a favorite old pizza place, Ginellis, which was right where I had left it decade ago. The pizza is still outstanding.

Meanwhile partaking in my hotel and educational endeavors, I had continued to search for other options, one of which turned out to be product demonstrator for a large, local supermarket chain. Actually, it was a contract gig through a marketing firm that had just gotten the contract, and between my teaching experience and my background in customer service, the outfit eagerly signed me up, and sent me my demonstrator kit: a matching red cap and apron set, a debit card to purchase the items I would be selling at each IMG_20140709_155112assignment, and a clip-on name tag with ‘Mark’ in big, white font.

Dressed in black slacks and white shirt (a combination I am usually loathe to participate in due to its mundane sartorial aspects) I spent weekend days in various Cub Foods aisles pitching everything from high-end hot dogs to exotic cold cuts to Greek yogurt. The only dud assignment came in trying to interest customers in some new cereal varieties. They were tasty enough, but even I had a hard time trying to spin breakfast cereal with the term ‘digestive blend’ in the name.

Yum.

Met some interesting folks, but never did run into anyone I knew, which was disappointing, because I had the opening line all set: “Off all the gin joints in all the world, you walk into mine.”

So it goes.

My favorite paid gig of the summer was serendipitous to say the least: I got to sell caps at Major League Baseball’s All Star Game at Target Field.

The Minnesota Twins were hosting this year’s extravaganza, and were seeking help during All-Star week festivities. Ironically, my wife, still in New Orleans, saw something about an All-Star game hiring fair on Facebook, and forwarded me the info. Much like with IMG_20140714_205827the food demonstrator gig, my background in the hospitality field got me the gig and the choice assignment in the stadium pro shop selling fitted caps. Far better than outside somewhere working smokey, messy concessions.  I got a spiffy plastic name tag in bold black font stating MARK L with the notation ALL STAR GAME-TEMPORARY WORKERS. Nice.

Baseball is one of my passions, and the Twins are my team. This wasn’t my dream job, but it certainly was a primo assignment that was interesting and fun, plus got me back into mid-semester on-my-feet-all-day form with four nine-hour-days of cap-hawking. A sweet deal all the way around as I got paid for spending my days talking baseball with all sorts of folks.

And I learned something very comforting: there are plenty of grown adults with a poorer grasp of math than I.

Fitted hats (at least the sizing of them) befuddled more than a few of my customers.

Caps were in a large set of wooden cubbies aligned by size in 1/8 inch increments, starting at 6 ¾ and going up to 8. The whole fraction thing was a puzzle to many, as customers would as to try a cap in what they thought was their size, only to find it too small. This was the typical exchange that transpired (more times than I would care to count):

IMG_20140712_210634CUSTOMER: “Seven and 1/8 was too small. Let me try the next size up.”
ME: (handing them the 7 ¼ in their preferred design) “Here you go.”
CUSTOMER: “No, I said the next size up. That should be 7 2/8.”
ME: “Yep. Seven-and-a-quarter is the next size up from 7 1/8.”
CUSTOMER: “That should be 7 2/8 then, shouldn’t it?”
ME: “Yes sir. But 7 2/8  is 7 ¼
CUSTOMER: “How does that work? Won’t that be too small?”
ME: “If it is, we’ll just try 7  3/8  or 7 1/2.”
CUSTOMER: “Huh? Those seem like they would be way too big.”
ME: “Nope. We should be able to find one in that range that fits.”

It usually ended up as a mini, chapeau-oriented version of Abbott & Costello’s classic ‘Who’s on First’? routine, and the whole 1/8 and ¼ thing got people even more confused at the higher end of the size scale. For some reason, the jump from 7 ½ to 7 5/8 got people even more adamant that my math skills were deficient. Most were pleasant about it, but a few got somewhat riled – one indignant woman in particular who was convinced that the cap manufacturer had screwed up, in that the 7 ¾ hat her husband tried on was too small, but the 7  7/8  he tried fit fine must be mislabeled, because, “That is a much smaller size.”

Aside from playing fun-with-fractions with numerous customers, my favorite encounter was a husband and wife in their forties who came to me with an interesting dilemma: she wanted the quality of a fitted cap, but needed the ‘hole in the back’ for her pony tail to IMG_20140715_204054hang out, as a fitted hat just gave her ‘a lumpy head’. (The ‘hole in the back’ of course comes only with adjustable hats, as the ‘hole’ is the space above the adjusting strap.) Clear to the fact that no fitted hats would fit the bill (pun intended) the wife had resigned herself to an adjustable cap, though she didn’t want any of the ‘cheap or cheap looking’ styles.

She was trying on a lot of caps, and her husband seemed more exasperated, rolling his eyes as she modeled each. We chatted while she browsed, and then I remembered some dazzling, sequined Twins hats that I had seen in a remote cubby, as the Twins had moved much of their regular merchandise off to the edges to make way for All-Star logoed stuff.

I excused myself from the husband, went and found the hat I remembered, brought it to the wife, proclaiming proudly, “Here you go – pretty cool hat and with a pony-tail hole!” She eyed the cap, tried it on, turned around a few times, took it off, put it back on, checked it out in the mirror from different angles…as her husband turned to me and said, quite dryly, “ I really admire your initiative.”

Hats off to me.

caps

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A Teachers Summer on the Road; Episode 2

Random (like the weather) thoughts.

spirographoriginal tattooTattoos are all the rage.  Personally, I have never had the urge to get one, and the more I work with inner city high school kids and with twenty-somethings adorned with them…

I really don’t care for the idea of somebody using my body as a Spirograph.

Walk into a tattoo parlor and ask the artist this: “What is the most common question you get about tattoos from new customers?”  Their response?  Almost universally, it is “What’s your most popular design?”

Ahh, America. You, you…you rugged individualists, you.

I have been spending the summer off from my New Orleans classroom in my hometown Twin Cities of Minneapolis and St. Paul, and have been doing a lot of temp work. It has been a few years since I have been consistently among a modern, corporate environment, and while it is enjoyable, I am ready to be back at work in a classroom setting.  Much has changed, much is very different in the decade or so since I prowled the Skyways, hallways and streets of an urban downtown as a worker bee.

filecabinetTechnology is the biggest change – no real shock there.  One thing it took me a few days to realize at the downtown Minneapolis firm I spent a week at as a temp is that file cabinets have gone the way of the De Soto.  It was my third or fourth day at this firm and I was walking from floor-to-floor of nice apportioned office space-slash-cubical farms when I realized that there was not a file cabinet to be found.

Not one. At least, not that was visible.

I discovered that each cube had one…in the small closet on the outer edge of the cube. Are those paltry two-drawers even used? Oh yeah. For storing lunch bags and purses.  And walking shoes for use during lunch breaks. And snacks, teabags, umbrellas, baseballs and Kuerig Coffee pods.  Papers?  Files? Anything officially work related? Not so much.

When I return to my classroom next month, I will look upon my old file cabinets with a new perspective.

Not that I am some sort of Luddite. On the contrary, one of the oddest thing about temping in an office is this summer is that my business casual attire of khakis, button down shirt and tie, just as in my classroom, I have had brief moments of panic and/or discomfort when I realize that I have forgotten to grab my flashdrive and I.D. lanyards.

My ‘teacher bling’ that is indispensable during the school year is not needed as an office temp.

flashdriveAs someone who worked in the corporate and for profit world for many years before moving into the classroom, I am truly a guy who straddles two communication eras. As a writer and artist, I favor good-old-fashioned paper – in files, or preferably, in ring binders. As a teacher in a contemporary classroom, I rely on technology. Virtually everything I do and work with at school is contained on the flash drives that dangle from my neck each day.  Unlike many of my older teacher colleagues, I am very at home with my younger teaching peers when it comes to sharing ideas and material with the simple “Hey, can you put that on my flash drive!”  I share as many resources and materials as I ask for, especially with younger, newer teachers that I help mentor; documents, videos, Power Points, stuff I find on the Internet that I don’t have a use for but think they might – you name it. It is very free-flowing.

But this summer, in shirt and tie? I feel naked without my flashdrives.  I will be okay, but I do remain committed to being  tolerant and forgiving of my Luddite  brethren. (cough!) Paul.

From the things that make you go “Hmmmm…” department:

My recent temp gig at a higher education institution had me working on making classroom materials accessible to students with disabilities. As a teacher, I found it interesting to get a different view of educational accommodations. And it was kind of fun. Of course, as a matter of course, proof of a disability needs to be provided to legally allow for such things as adapting copyrighted text, etc.  They school I worked at has had a rash of people claiming they need accommodations for dyslexia or other reading disorders, but when asked for the requisite documentation, many claimed to be self-diagnosed via ‘tests’ on the Internet or articles and websites they had come across and said, “Hey, that’s me!”

Just thinking out loud here: if you can take Internet tests, and read up on disorders to the extent that you can self-diagnose yourself with a ‘reading disorder’…

Do you really have a reading disorder?

I am not trying to be disrespectful. Just askin’.

heat-index-chartOne almost final note, all about perspective. Everything is relative, really. Like humidity.

A native Minnesotan, I have always liked humidity, which the upper Midwest claims to have a lot of due to all the lakes. Living in New Orleans the past six years, I have experienced humidity in new and spectacular ways. And I still prefer humidity (even ‘excessive’ humidity- which I have yet to encounter anyplace) to…not having humidity.

An unseasonably cold and brutal winter in the Midwest his given way to the other extreme; humidities in the (gasp!) 50 – 60% range with temps in the low 80‘s that pushes heat indexes into…the mid to upper 80’s.  Wowsers. Minnesotans whining and moaning about weatherhow ‘humid’ it is.

This amuses me immensely. Not once in my time in Minnesota over the past month-and-a-half have my glasses fogged up making the transition from air-conditioned house/vehicle to some other environment. There is no condensation on the windows in the morning. And my favorite…

The ‘Feels Like’ designation in on-line or newspaper weather forecasts in Minnesota have rarely differed by more than three-or-four degrees.  In New Orleans, the gap this time of year regularly triples that.

It’s all relative, though I am not related to any of them.

And finally, in keeping with our old/new, Ludditetonian theme….

AmishbuggyLast Saturday I drove the sixty miles from Rochester to Minneapolis, using a stretch of highway I have driven for years, happily noting that not much has changed. One of the familiar sites is a large business just off the highway – an Amish Furniture shop/warehouse that has been there for years.  What caught my eye and shoved one eyebrow skyward this trip, however, was the huge banner outside the establishment:  ‘BARSTOOL SALE.’

Time for one of those cheesy Facebook quizzes: ‘Just How Amish are You?’

A Teachers Summer on the Road; Episode 1

My first Monday back in my hometown of Minneapolis.Hire Me computer key

Reupping with an employer you haven’t worked for in over ten years is a bit like having dinner with a former lover. You start by discussing your separate, mostly unknown here-and-now’s before you move on to on shared pasts, getting each other up to date, filling in some blanks. Sometimes it is smooth flowing conversation; sometimes it’s a bit clunky.

Then you get a bit more comfortable, relaxed.

You also begin to remember all the good things you liked about each other ‘back in the day’ and why the relationship was so mutually beneficial…while also realizing why the relationship came amicably to an end, and just why it probably wouldn’t work for the long-term, then or now.

Or would it?

The folks at my favorite old temp service, Pro Staff in Minneapolis, have been gracious and helpful, and I am now officially back in the fold for the summer.

I can use the work, and I can do it. Jack-of-All-Most-Trades, master of a goodly percentage of them, proficient at the rest. A freelancesummer work fling would be just the ticket, with them or someone else.

If you need a writing or other creative project accomplished in a pinch, let me know. I am not a monogamous guy when it comes to earning some extra cash. If you are in the Minneapolis-St. Paul area, and have some other sort of job or project you need handled, and handled well…hey, you know where to find me. I have wheels,desire, talent.

Have skills, will travel.

Hey, I won’t even expect you to buy me dinner first.