...and even Possum, if you don't count the O'!
If you're traveling on this holiday weekend, I pray that you travel safely and enjoy the company of friends and family.
Labor Day, as you probably know was begun either for or by labor unions (I'm not clear on this) and as a day off work for the "working man." It has become, at least in this area of the country, along with Memorial Day and Independence Day, somewhat of a patriotic holiday. And that's great; we can't have too many days to celebrate America.
Although I had originally (all the way from the letter A) planned to devote P to Peace, I find myself skimming over the subject now because I never want my blog to be a place of political rant. But I do believe in Peace. Peace was advocated by all the great holy people: Jesus, Buddha, Mohammed, Gandi, MLK, Mother Teresa. Even God, I believe, calls us to be peacefful toward one another. So that's all I'll say about peace. Now I'll launch right into a funny story about paychecks.
This morning at breakfast, I mentioned to Vann that Jesse had received his first paycheck yesterday. He has worked for pay in the past for grasscutting, helping neighbors with yardwork, etc. But this month, he started his first real job, with a paycheck and everything. He's working for a used-car dealer, helping him clean and detail cars. (Not funny yet? Keep reading.)
I commented that I could remember my first paycheck, and commenced to tell the tale. I had just graduated from high school and was about to be married to Mr. Right. (Well, I knew he wasn't really Mr. Right even then; but that's another story.) I had also just taken a job at a local car dealership (not the same one Jesse works for now) doing clerical work. My first job!
I had worked for only a couple of weeks when the day of my wedding came. We were married, went to the Smokies for our honeymoon, came home, and took up life as husband and wife (sort of). The next Friday was "payday." My first one. I was so excited. SO EXCITED. I had never been paid for anything in my life.
Mr. R. knew it was payday (Leeds is a small town). So at lunch time, he dropped by the dealership. "I need to pick up your check," he told me. "Why?" I asked. It was my first check in my whole life. I wanted to be the one to cash it. Time to 'fess up for Mr. Right. It seems, unbeknownst to his bride, he had borrowed the money for our honeymoon from his grandfather and had promised to pay him back today. His check wasn't enough to cover the debt, so he needed mine. And do you know that I handed that check over to him? I did!
When I had finished telling this story to Vann this morning, he looked at me in utter awe, held out his hands to me, and said, "Here's Your Sign." (Google it if you don't know what that means.)
That event was to help set the tone of that married, which somehow survived for 20 years. Those two decades can be summed up in these lyrics from an old folks song:
If I'd a known before I courted
That love it was such a killin' thing
I'd have locked my heart in a box of golden
And fastened it up with a silver chain.
Well, never mind. I'm married to the real Mr. Right now, and he has never laid hands on one of my paychecks (though he knows he's welcome to if he ever needs one). I still believe in Peace and Patriotism, and Love and cashing your own damn paycheck, especially your very first one. Have a great Labor Day everybody--and watch out who you court.
This post was migrated from the old blog. To see the comments on the original post, CLICK HERE. To add a new comment, click "Post a Comment", below.
On 08/31/2007, nita from red tin heart said ...
We live and we learn. My first husband was like that too. Thank you for your kind words on my site. love nita
On 09/02/2007, Pam said ...
I actually had to google that - LOL!!!
I figure the most important thing is when mistakes happen you learn those lesson well and don't make the same mistake twice.
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