It's not THE job that makes you a man... it's HOW you do it.

It's not the job that makes you a man...

Hmmm... what's this gonna be about... I guess just a few thoughts on life + work in general. I grew up in a home with very hardworking parents. Dad was the Budweiser man, meaning he worked at White Mountain Distributors, delivering Anheuser-Busch products all over northern NH, as his primary job. He also worked as a local gas station a couple nights a week, and cleaned the local Yellow Freight front offices a couple nights a week for added income. Oh yeah, he ran the local aluminum recycling center for a number of years too. Mom, meanwhile ran a daycare at our home.
Of course being Dad's children, we (my brother Pitou + I ) were expected, once we were old enough, to 'help' with his extra jobs. I remember helping pump gas at the station. In -20 degree weather. We also 'helped' him at his cleaning gig for the Yellow Freight offices.
I remember thinking, jeez, just freshen up a bit, make the general appearance look nice... WRONG. Dad was so thorough... he polished every desk, emptied, and cleaned every trash can, dusted every shelf, vacuumed every damn square inch of that place... He made sure it was immaculate! He used to tell us. This isn't much of a job, but always to the best you can at any job. Never wait for someone to come back and point out what you haven't done properly. Whatever the job, do it right, do it well. Be proud of the job you've done.
I also had the opportunity to work alongside Dad at his primary job at White Mtn. Dist. as an assistant. I remember back then earning $50.00/day, not bad for a kid saving money for college in 1987. We would have to be at the warehouse at no later than 5:30am, load the truck, then head out to distribute the Golden Nectar of the Gods to the stores around northern New England. Of course, having to be there no later than 5:30am meant we were always there at 5:15am. I, being a smart-assed 18 year old, of course figured I knew it all. Boy did I have a lot to learn, so anyways, here we were, a seasoned veteran, and his smart-assed kid assistant... WOW did we have issues... we didn't speak a whole lot to each other at first... I learned though (like it or not, I WAS going to do it his way). I learned how to do the job well, and I learned to respect the job, and the man. Dad knew that he was squarely in the blue-collar working class. He accepted it. He was proud of the job he did. He was proud because he knew he was the best there was at his job (Every single one of his customers, always greeted him with a big smile, and a Hey Joe, how are ya?!). He taught me this, even though for a long time I refused to listen, and accept that he could be proud of being a truck driver... like I said, I was a smart-assed high school graduate, who “knew it all”. I had just been accepted to URI, and was pretty cocky. What an asshole I was!
What I learned from Dad was simple: It's not the job that makes you a man, its how you do the job... If you're going to be a beer delivery guy, then you better damn well be the best beer delivery guy there ever was. They should be happy to see you arrive, knowing that you will properly rotate stock, neatly stack, leave everything clean and organized, and do it with a smile. He taught me from watching him at Yellow Freight, that if you're going to be a janitor, then you better be the best janitor there is. He taught me by me watching him pump gas in all types of weather, that customer does not care what kind of day you're having, you better not spill gas all over his car, you better fill it when he says fill it, and clean the windows while the gas is pumping.
So what... well here's so what. I am now a pharmacist, have been for (shit!) over 17 years now. I work my ass off at every store I go to. I've never had a bad review in my life (I did have to be spoken to when I hung up on an asshole customer once, but I was young, and hot-tempered back then). I'd like to think I learned my my work ethic from watching Dad.. He ALWAYS worked hard, and did the best he can. I always work hard, and am the best pharmacist I can be. I always take time to help my patients, assist, teach, and encourage my techs. I treat each store I visit as my own home store. I strive to make each store WANT me to come back. Techs in every store I've been to know that I am willing to do any job they do, assist them any way I can, all the while providing professionalism, and excellent customer service along the way. There is nothing more professionally satisfying to me than when a customer shakes my hand and says: Thank you, you've been such a help. Or when other pharmacists tell me how much help I was to them, and how they are always relieved to see me scheduled in their store. So, am I a good pharmacist? I am. I am proud of the job I do every day. My Dad would be proud of me too.
...and I welcome any and all comments!!!

Carl Genius