Field Day Bill
worksite personalities- Part 3A of 'insider language'
For the last article in this 3-part, ‘inside language’ series, I thought I’d do a light and fluffy post and entertain you with a few of my neologisms describing characters you see on the jobsite. Lest my current co-workers think I’m just describing them, I’ll point out that this is a harvest of personalities I can recall from a wide range of work experience. I’m talking about all the side jobs I’ve had, not my main gigs in education, which would require a post or two of its own. Here I reflect on the people I’ve met while
cleaning ponds – moving furniture – landscaping – painting – ski instructing – windsurf instructing – tour guiding – delivering newspapers – dishwashing – waiting tables – ditch digging – shoveling poo, etc.
Personality #1: The Fireside Chatterbox
Fireside Chatterbox Len is constantly telling stories. Every time you address Len with a question or statement of any sort, he’ll produce an anecdote from his days of yore. The quintessential Lens of the working world speak with a southern accent, preferably southwest Georgia. The foreman at your jobsite might warn you about Len. “Don’t take this problem to Len; you’ll be stuck for a half hour listening to some dang story.”
Example dialogue with Len:
Dan: Wow, that old door was pretty heavy lifting there.
Len: Oh, that wasn’t so bad. Back when I was petty officer 2nd class on the Rochester, which was a heavy cruiser, mind you, and a good ship, not like the Galveston, that ol’ rust bucket- Cleveland-class cruiser it was- anyway our CPO, Hank was his name –ornery character- well, he had us replacing some steel doors in the aft hangar, and…
Personality #2 Field Day Bill
Way back when my mom and dad were still together, I have a memory of sitting at the kitchen table with my brother and my dad, waiting for mom at the stove to finish with the eggs. It was Saturday and dad had his white t-shirt on, hands folded atop his head, flexing his biceps sequentially. I knew that the eggs would be put on the same plate as the pancakes dad had made, and was trying to think of a way to keep the syrup off the eggs. Of course dad was happy to let everything mix together, like the way he ate dessert- as in a piece of apple pie a la mode, on the big plate slathered with leftover gravy and giblets from the roast beef and potatoes main course. That was just one Saturday-morning annoyance. The other, which drove my mom crazier than any of us, was Field Day. My dad, the former navy man, loved Saturdays, for the opportunity to rally the troops, or sailors if you will, and work on chores and projects around the house. We all knew there was stuff to be done, but to be reminded beforehand made it worse. Dad would finish breakfast first, lapping up the last bit of egg-yolk plus Aunt Jemina syrup with a piece of pancake, clean up his dishes, head for the front door and yell, “Fieeeeeeeeeld Daaaaay!” Hah. It drove mom nuts.
Thing is, Dad knew it drove her nuts, but he couldn’t resist. Now, you may feel sorry for my poor mother, who just wanted another hour of sleep and maybe some lighter errands, like a trip to the supermarket or fabric store. And you could feel sorry for my brother and me. Across the street, Mr. Brunette was loading up the dory for a day of fishing on the river with his son, my friend Charlie. Five houses down, Mr. White was loading up the quarter-midget race car for his son, my other friend Wayne. And my third friend on the block, J.D., already rode by on his Schwinn (banana seat) to go watch his big brother’s baseball game. Here at the Shumway house, it was Field Day. But don’t feel sorry for us! Why? Because both my mom and I pay it forward and carry on the tradition! We’re both Field Days Bills! We don’t use the same phrase. Instead, we like to say, “You got a lot to do!” and it’s something I’ve heard on jobsites quite often. It usually comes from the foremen, and I detect a little Bill Shumway relish in the way they say it. You can arrive at a jobsite and instantly see that a long, hard slog is ahead, and Field Day Bill will point out the obvious, “We got a lot to do!” My mom would use this term all the time, especially on Saturdays, just the day when my dad would announce field day.
-Hey mom, me and Jimmy are gonna go ride to the store and get some pop rocks.
-You can do that this afternoon. You have to finish your chores first, and…
-I know mom, I’ll just finish the…
-You’re not going anywhere till you’re all done. You got a lot to do, ‘Nkay? YOU GOT A LOT TO DO!
I’ve faithfully carried on this family tradition with my own kids. It’s important to get the intonation and emphasis just right when you say it. Why don’t you try it with your kids? It’s immeasurably satisfying!
That’s it for today. More jobsite personalities to come. For now, I gotta run. It’s Field Day at Fred VanCamp’s and he’s waiting for me.