Philip Terzian, working stiff.
_Casual Guanq in Georgetown Not long ago my wife, daughter, and I were driving along M Street in Georgetown, just past Wisconsin Avenue, when my wife gestured in the direction of an ancient...
...I would like to have emptied my shovel onto his fun-loving head...
...It had once been home to whatever the Bureau of Indian Affairs was called during the Madison administration (or so I was told) and had served variously as federal offices, a brothel, and, between 1881 and 1947, a firehouse...
...I had just been awarded my bachelor's degree, but had not yet begun laboring at the Reuters Washington bureau...
...In the meantime, the old firehouse, which had been unoccupied for 26 years, had to be cleaned out...
...But the next morning, when we were presented with a shovel and breathing mask, I had a sudden inkling...
...Sure, I replied...
...Not my first job," I answered, "but my first job after graduating from college...
...This produced a cloud of ungodly (not to say disease-ridden) pigeon dust, which easily penetrated our modest protection...
...I had already rented a small, slightly seedy, flat in the city and, indeed, could use an infusion of capital...
...I admit that my pleasure was reduced a little when handed a check for the day's effort—$18 in my memory, perhaps a bit more—and returning to my squalid apartment that evening I stood in the shower, just stood there and rinsed, for a very long time...
...Casual Guanq in Georgetown Not long ago my wife, daughter, and I were driving along M Street in Georgetown, just past Wisconsin Avenue, when my wife gestured in the direction of an ancient building on the south side of M Street, now an elegant boutique...
...We were blessed in one respect...
...and, as I explained as we drove out M Street toward Key Bridge, it's an interesting story...
...Too bad, I remember thinking...
...His work ethic, shall we say, left something to be desired—there were innumerable cigarette breaks and mysterious absences—and by the time we graduated to the third floor, he was on permanent sabbatical...
...That was where my friend and I came in...
...At this point my daughter was intrigued—all right, amused—by the idea that her father had once labored in a pricey dress shop...
...We had been joined that morning by a jolly hippie-type who regarded us with a mixture of condescension and pot-fueled amusement...
...But the roof had developed a series of leaks over time, so the third floor featured a moist version of the substance, much heavier and more difficult to maneuver...
...There were two arched entrances, through which the hook-and-ladder had been driven, and a giant hole in the second floor where the pole had been...
...It had not occurred to me to ask what happens inside old buildings in 26 years...
...In the course of two-and-a-half decades, the charming old Federal-era structure had become the repository of an untold quantity (usually knee-deep) of pigeon feces...
...Interesting, and instructive, too...
...That giant hole where the firemen's pole had been located allowed us to drop a huge cloth into a dumpster on the ground floor, so we merely had to push the stuff over the side of the hole and into the dumpster...
...The third floor was a different matter: Each shovelful had to be carefully transported down corridors and slippery steps before being pitched overboard...
...I don't know whether my memory exaggerates, but I recall a particularly hot day...
...One day, late in the spring of 1973, a former classmate of mine called and asked if I wanted to make a little money...
...The second floor, which contained several rooms and a couple of short staircases, boasted a two-foot accumulation of dry, powdery stuff, augmented by stray feathers and bones...
...Second, I confirmed in my mind that manual labor was never my calling, and that working at a desk, and wearing a tie every day, suited me fine...
...Thirty-four summers ago the building, which had been constructed around 1800, had been vacant for a quarter-century...
...After eight sweat-stained hours of immersion in pigeon byproducts, every subsequent job has seemed rather pleasant...
...In recounting this seminal incident to my daughter, I tried to recall what lessons I learned that day...
...But in fact, the building had not always been a dress shop...
...she asked...
...Isn't that where you had your first job...
...Philip Terzian...
...In the fullness of time, I am happy to report, the job was completed, and I can still feel the joy with which we staggered out onto M Street a pair of free men...
...First, I was reminded of the dignity of labor: Work may not always be pleasurable, or very interesting, but done conscientiously is its own reward...
...A onetime employer of my friend had undertaken some grandiose (and ultimately ill-fated) project to establish a national firefighting museum, and had gotten a grant to lease the building...
...Those 18 dollars were rightfully earned...
Vol. 12 • September 2007 • No. 47
