In 1985, a year and a half after finishing college, I took a job at the Chicago Tribune. Sounds a little prestigious but I'll be the first to tell you it wasn't. The job I held just after college had a much better ring to it...maybe because I made it up. Right after I graduated from Cornell College in Iowa, my roommate and I moved to Tempe, Arizona. I had $40 cash, an Amoco gas card and two fairly aggravated parents to my name. Since I had 4 siblings ahead of me, I knew what it was like to move back home and sport a blue suit to go to work for the rest of your life. So, I decided to take door number 2 and head out West to a place nobody I knew had ever been.
Arizona was fun. It was an extension of my college days. My roommate's brother had moved down there from Iowa a few months before and said we should come. We pulled up with our clothes on our back to a big house with a pool in the back. So far, so good. Our new roommates were older than us and a mixed group of transplants from around the country. They did all types of work to make ends meet and we were welcome to stay on the hide-a-bed until we got our feet on the ground. It was a stranger environment than what we just left, but after spending most of our lives in terrible winters and short springs, we loved the climate change...and the pool. In a matter of weeks, we found jobs, got our own apartment with a pool and talked 8 of our college friends into moving down there. Life was good.
After quitting my first job in Arizona, I found another that I knew would be better pay and I'd enjoy more. I was an "Executive Beverage Distributor" at Butch O'Leary's in Mesa. That's the title I gave myself because I thought it sounded impressive. When I told my parents, my mother was quick to point out that I was a "cocktail waitress serving drinks to executives". I swear nothing EVER gets past that woman. In any event, after spending 8 months working 5 nights a week at a job that entailed vampire-like behavior of staying up all night and finally retreating at sunrise, I decided it was time to put my college degree to work. I woke up one day and realized I didn't want to be a 40 year old Executive Beverage Distributor and within 2 weeks I was packed, said farewell to the fun, and moved back into my parent's house where a blue suit awaited me.
I had a good connection at the Chicago Tribune so the interview process went well and I was reporting to work soon after returning home in September of 1985. Like my current job, I had to punch a clock, was selling advertising and wasn't making much money. Hence, I can't figure out if I've actually made ANY progress in the last 24 years. The duties were a little different but the concept was the same. People would call into 222-2222 and I would write ads that would appear in the classified section of the newspaper. We had to identify ourselves when answering the phone and after a few days, my manager pointed out there was another Eileen on the floor who had been there for 15+ years and her customers were getting confused when calls were transferred to me. So, I was asked to change my name. I thought it was an odd request but after pondering for a few minutes, I decided on a name and began answering the phone "Tribune Classifieds, this is Alexis". It was 1985 afterall, and Dynasty was in its hey-day.
During my 1.5 years as Alexis, I would help thousands of people sell their cars and houses or rent their apartments. I was an hourly employee but got a small commission for ad space sold. Ironically, as I deal with funeral homes in today's job, my favorite ads to write were the death notices. I would typeset what the undertakers rattled off about the "beloved husband of" or "loving sister of". But, my favorites were death notices that started off with the person's name, age and then used the word "suddenly". I was ok with that for the younger people and it peaked my curiosity of what happened to them. However, I think there should've been an age limit when using the word "suddenly" to describe a death. I can't remember how many notices read "so and so, age 94, suddenly...". Really? You mean to tell me that everyone was surprised when Grandpa Simon expired at 94? How long did they think he was going to live? Personally, I think anything after 76 is gravy so if it were up to me, I wouldn't allow the word "suddenly" to be used in a death notice for anyone older than 76. I mean, it's a risk at that point anyway. Your eyes are going bad, legs are getting weak, memory is failing so the likelihood of having some type of accident is much higher. If I were an undertaker, I would choose the word "happily" for anyone dying between age 76-90 because that's more fitting. And, anyone after 90 I would just throw in a "finally" because at that point everyone probably feels that way, including the deceased.
So fast forward to 2009 and I'm taking phone orders to purchase Catholic calendars and dealing with churches and undertakers all over the country. I'm an hourly employee and I punch in and out. I don't get commission like the full-time employees but did receive a "Visa" debit card Human Resources distributed as an appreciation to the employees. The value of the card was more than I make an hour. And neither denomination is a lot.
The past couple weeks have been really busy. We're almost to the end of the year and the churches and funeral homes want their calendars. The transition from paper to paperless has not been seamless so the level of frustration is growing. A panic is starting to set in by the customers and they are fearful that the 2010 spiral calendars won't be distributed to parishioners by Christmas. And, frankly I don't know if they will either but my job is to calm them down and assure them the calendars will certainly arrive before they sing Auld Lang Syne. I've been doing this long enough that customers are now asking for me by name. And some are not happy because the calendars haven't been shipped yet or they don't like the way their ad looks. The job doesn't pay me enough to be as stressed out as I am some days. But my boss is a very good friend and he is depending on me to help him through this crunch. Plus, I'm too dedicated to just blow this off as if I don't care. It's a great cause that I believe in so I will do whatever it takes to make sure this is a successful year. But, as Thanksgiving approaches and there are still orders hanging out there, the angry calls are going to increase ten-fold. I may need to call in back-up to take some of the stress off me. Maybe it's time to bring Alexis back.
Today's EiPod: "Calendar Girl", Neil Sedaka
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