Village Squire, 1977-11, Page 50P. S.
If this is `retirement'
give me the working life
BY KEITH ROULSTON
"Well, how does it feel to be retired?" I
wonder how many times I've answered that
question in the last month.
For those readers who don't know, we
recently sold two weekly newspapers that
along with Village Squire and our other
monthly magazine The Rural Voice made
up our company. Now everyone assumes
that only two magazines a month to put out
I've got all kinds of time on my hands.
I hate to sound like a complainer, but I
usually fill people in pretty quickly on just
what kind of "retirement" it's been so far.
Oh I have no doubt in the long run that I'll
have more time to do things the way I want
to, but so far it's been as busy as a
washroom at a beanery around here.
First of all there was the problem of
moving to new offices that weren't offices
at all. With a large summer kitchen and
woodshed out back and a tremendous
shortage of office space in town, we
decided it would be a good idea to move
our offices out to our farm since we do so
little over-the-counter business anyway. It
seemed like a good idea at the time, but the
"offices" still look too much like a large
summer kitchen and a wood shed. The
typesetter is crammed into what used to be
a kid's play room. The dark room isn't
dark. And the kitchen table takes 15
minutes of clearing of office work before
you can sit down to work.
We more or less (more junk and less
organization) finished the move on a
Saturday and on Monday had to start to put
out last month's issue of Village Squire.
Everything, of course, took longer than
usual since everything needed, of course,
was at the bottom of large stacks of
material that weren't filed away because
the places to file them weren't built yet.
And of course whenever you needed
something done in the dark room you had
to wait until after dark (thank goodness
there are nb street lights to shine in
windows in the country).
Ah, we had thought, when we put out
the last Village Squire before that, no more
finishing up the magazine in the wee hours
of the morning on which it was to be
printed. Ha. We finished in the wee hours
and got a couple of hours sleep before due
at the print shop at 8 a.m. The jobs of
stapling on the covers and trimming
around the edges and mailing the
magazines also took longer than expected
of course.
48,VILLAGE SQUIRE/NOVEMBER 1977.
Oh well, at least we'd be better
organized by next month. Ha again! Thus:
Why am I sitting here rapping this out long
after I'd promised myself that I'd have
typed the last "30" for this issue, even
though I worked late last night and the
night before and most of Sunday and all of
Saturday etc. etc. Ah yes. retirement.
It's not so much even the work that is
being done but the work you know still
needs to be done that gets on your nerves.
Those two big rooms keep flashing through
my mind. 1 must have been an idiot to even
consider it, 1 think as I awake screaming
from nightmares about the work. The
electrician who had promised to have the
job done by Oct. 1, finished up last week
(why is it it can take tradesmen weeks to
get to the job but just hours to mail their
bill out). The carpenter is still awaited. We
decided to fix the roof ourselves but you
know what September and October were
like. The shingles sat there in the rain for
weeks while the water dripped through the
holes in the old roof. The heat can't be
turned on until the insulation is in and the
insulation can't be put in until the ceiling is
installed and the ceiling can't be put in
until the tradesman gets here. Ugh! And to
think some people build whole houses. No
wonder the psychiatric hospitals are so full.
As if all that isn't enough, there's a little
thing like a play I'm supposed to write. So
far not one word has made it to paper and
the play is supposed to be in the hands of
the producer by Jan. 1. That's not to
mention all the other little projects that sit
on my idea board to be done. Ah yes,
retirement.
I know I sound like an old shrew,
complaining like this. We all have our
crosses to bear and mine's no heavier than
yours. People always think their job is
worse than anyone else's and reversely
that everybody else has it easy. I've been
interviewing other people and digging into
their work for long enough to know that no
matter what job you do there are
headaches involved. And despite the
problems, I wouldn't trade my job for
anyone else's that I know. Most of us
wouldn't.
That doesn't stop us from bitching and
complaining of course. The one difference
between my complaining and yours is that I
can do it in print and reach 10,000 or so
readers with it. There's a certain
satisfaction to that. If you're going to be a
bitch, you might as well have a large
audience.
SHOP EARLY
AND GET WHAT YOU WANT
We now have True Soaps
from Switzerland.
Elgin Court posters. cards
from England.
LARGE SELECTION OF BOOKS
FOR THAT LOVING GIFT.
The
Clothes Line
of
Listowel
127 Main St. W.
291-4390
For her
Christmas gift
Joan Hemsworth
Joanne Dahl
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