A Real Job

Not so long ago, when a new acquaintance would ask what my husband does for a living, I would wait a few seconds to gather my reserve. After drawing a steady breath, I would answer honestly: My husband is an entertainer. Nine times out of ten, I would receive a helplessly blank look, and then hear the inevitable.

Oh, yeah? So what does he really do?

I could tell from the looks on their faces that they were trying their best to imagine my husband doing a soft shoe while juggling some knives and belting out a few Broadway tunes, just struggling along in some dingy nightclub while valiantly dreaming of hitting the "Big Time". I used to rush to clarify that my husband is a musician who specializes in comedic routines and crowd participation, and has been gainfully employed in his field for years. There are a sizable amount of people who tend to equate "job" with briefcases, time cards, and ridiculous amounts of paperwork. Anything falling outside of that definition is just not a "real" job. Yet, even as I would dance them through this well-memorized explanation, I would smother back years worth of irritation. I felt it would be rude to actually let them see my annoyance at having to spell out my old man's line of work. Their uninformed response, however naïve and benign it may have been, wore thin after the first decade or so of dealing with it.

Not these days. Now I let folks think what they will, and a few times I have added to whatever absurd assumption they have fostered. For instance, last week at a social function, a middle-aged woman sporting a full lapel's worth of patriotic ribbons and a WWJD pin asked me the jackpot question. A seasoned trouper, I went right to the schtick: He plays piano, sings and tells stupid jokes. The woman then looked at me vacantly and asked: Is that his real job?

Well, no. Actually he's been an assembly line worker at the Trivioli Widget Factory for the past two decades, but we support his delusions since we desperately need his paycheck. The kids need shoes, after all.

Of course that's his real job. Yes, I know it's difficult for a lot of folks to imagine a career beyond a nine-to-five workday, a 401(k), and an increasingly thin veneer of job security. Basically, I am one of those folks, regardless of the years I have spent with a man who has never held a "real" job in his entire life. You see, while my husband is of course musically talented, he also possesses the self-discipline to study and rehearse new material, and the resolve to get out there and secure those much-needed bookings. I'm much less motivated, preferring work that involves dazzling mediocrity and the social skills of a fishwife, which is why I worked for the government for years. All that being said, I would hazard a guess that either approach to one's career has validity.

And yet I've heard the most outrageous questions in the course of everyday conversations. After years of waiting for it over and over again, I have simply dropped the façade, and answer with whatever seems fitting for the moment.

A few examples. . .

This one is usually from the person who knows someone who knows someone whose niece is dating the kid who plays bass in the local classic rock band every weekend at Joe's Bar & Grill and works at the LubeMeNow Auto Service Monday through Friday. Is that his day job?
Answer: My husband sleeps and watches ESPN while the sun shines. As he matures, he has become less allergic to sunlight, and has even ventured out onto the golf course in the blazingly high afternoon sun. Our family feels he has made great strides, since only two years ago he went through the entire winter without once seeing daylight. So, no, being an entertainer is not his day job.

This puzzler was presented by one of my co-workers, in the few moments between his fourth cigarette break of the morning, and as he was selecting his reading material for his forty-five minute sojourn into the men's room. So he's never done real work?
Answer: No, he has no idea what real work is. He has lucked into a career that is the easiest thing in the world. Just playing around, literally! He spends four hours a night here and there just fooling around on stage and getting paid big money to do it. His job is so easy, in fact, that there are always at least two drunken loudmouths in every audience who KNOW they can do it better.

Strangely, I tend to get this one from sequin-sporting folks who are way too hip on the local karaoke hot spots. So he never became a success?
Answer: Sadly, he is an abysmal failure for never having secured a Grammy, or even a fashion line. Our family copes with the daily disappointment of a pater familias who is merely productive and well paid, and not filthy rich and obscenely famous. Our family therapist has commended us on our fabulous coping skills, and predicts we'll only need several years more therapy.

This one is typical of the guy over-run with a second mortgage, a second family, and lots of child support payments. Hasn't he ever wanted a stable career?
Answer: Well, of course not. From childhood, he has insisted upon a line of work dealing with raging alcoholics, deep-seated personality disorders, and grinding control issues. And that's just the audience.

The more prune-lipped and stern-faced the person, the more I hear this question. Hasn't he ever held a responsible job?
Answer: Nope. Nada. He has always lolled about in a half-assed occupation where he can go into work whenever he damn well pleases, call in sick for days on end, and treat everyone within earshot to condescending insults. Oh, wait, that's my job.