The stress-free job

My horses listen to country music these days. It's taken some getting used to because that KPBX mix of classics, jazz and NPR features was pretty soothing and enhancing to their critical ears. It also gave 'em some extra culture and sophistication for if they ever go to some hifalutin' horse show.

Don't get me wrong. I love country music, but I just viewed the classical station, except for the pledge drive, as enriching. Going country in the Lovestead barn was not really a choice; it became a necessity the day the radio fell off its perch into the tool box and the antenna that reaches out and grabs those Spokane stations broke off. Now, I'm pretty limited to KSPT, KPND and K102.5.

Since I don't want them getting any hard-nosed discipline ideas from Dr. Laura (does she still give out advice?) and I know for sure that they and I are not gonna like the music offerings on KPND, the country station won out.

I like it, but Lily and Lefty have yet to share their opinions. As long as they get their grain and hay, I'm pretty sure they're happy to listen to anything.

This morning while scooping out Lily's stall, the radio boys were asking people to call in and suggest the most stress-free jobs. For a while, they thought the audience had misunderstood their request because someone called in and said truck drivers, while another said school teachers. I've never driven a long-haul truck down Wolf Creek Pass or the Great Divide, but I have taught school and can vouch without hesitation that it's hardly stress free.

Still, some lady called in and argued that point, saying she was a pre-school teacher and giving all the reasons why she believes her job provides her no stress. I agreed with her that pre-school is a time when the kids still love their teachers. She gave a number of other reasons, but by that time I was into my own time travel, thinking about the stress free jobs I'd had in the past.

These do stand out in my memory because, for the most part, I've chosen the high octane pressure cooker routes----school teaching and writing for deadlines. Granted, there are many occupations, offering even a higher threshold, but these two choices can keep a person on the emotional edge pretty much all of the time.

As I look back on my stress free moments that earned me money, I have to say that dishwashing at Camp Neewahlu on Lake Coeur d'Alene with my classmate Terri Chronic (we were named Spic and Span, respectively) ranks right up there. Not so at the beginning. We did plates, cups, and utensils three times daily for the nearly 100 campers and staff who occupied the camp every week.

At first, we almost went nuts, just finishing up when another meal's worth of dirties came our way. It did not take us long to coordinate and collaborate our efforts into a streamlined system. Within the first couple of weeks, what was taking us nearly eight hours was boiled down to three. And, we were hired by the University of Idaho and the work-study program, strictly as dishwashers.

So, the remaining portion of our 8-hour paid work day was spent on the dock, sunning ourselves, swimming, visiting and reading. Not a bad gig, and definitely turning into a pretty relaxing, fun-filled summer.

My job with the U.S. Forest Service as a traffic surveyor for the engineers rivaled Camp Neewahlu. We put out traffic counters on Forest Service roads twice weekly and conducted 12-hour on-site surveys with drivers entering the forest three weekends out of four.

The hardest part of that job was getting up early in the morning and driving to places like Priest Lake by 6 a.m. to sit in lawnchairs and eat out of ice chests for the next 12 hours. Occasionally, people came along, meaning we had to get out of our chairs, take our clipboards and go talk. It was tough, but someone had to do it.

Thinking about stress-free jobs this morning also took me back to a strawberry field, where that Beatles song definitely comes into play. I wanted to learn something about gardening and getting things to grow. So, I went over to Gooby's, which was just down the road from where we lived for 30 years. Bob showed me how plant starts work, with potentilla and some other shrubs. I did that for a while, and then strawberry season started.

So, he asked if I was interested in picking berries for their customers who didn't want to pick their own. I happily agreed, and Bob's partner in the gardening effort got me started out in the fields. I picked for a couple of days and then began to wonder how I was going to get paid. So, I asked the partner. He said my pay would come through the strawberries I could take home while picking after hours.

Now, eight hours of strawberry picking can get kinda old. And, even my little pea brain figured out that something was wrong with this "strawberry fields forever" scenario. I went home that night and sputtered a bit to the family, finally conjuring up the nerve to call Bob about my berry creative salary.

Thank God. When he learned that I'd been told that my pay for picking strawberries was to pick even more strawberries, he chuckled and reassured me that that angle had not been part of his plan----and he paid me---money. The job became more stress-free after that revelation.

Now, back to the radio request for stress-free jobs. I've always wanted to be the Napa Auto Parts driver. Now, that may seem a little too much like a pizza delivery person, but I think it's a better situation. You're simply driving around all day, during work hours (not during late-night drunken brawls when someone orders pizza to defuse the fueled up situations).

I like to drive, and it seems like it would be pretty easy to take those parts from the shop, put them in the car, drive to the delivery spot, hand them over, and be on your way. I can't imagine anything about this job being too high-pressured, except maybe when you've got to deliver something across downtown Sandpoint in the middle of summer traffic. That could get a little stressful for anyone, but overall I think this would be a pretty mindless and relaxing way to spend the workday.

I can feel stress building right now: has Kea run out to the road? Is Lefty faunching at the bit, anxious to get out there so Lily can chase him around the barnyard all day? Is the phone going to ring right in the middle of this sentence with someone wanting something?

I'm retired, and like most retirees, I can assure you that I'd never call into K102.5 and suggest that retirement is a stress free gig. There's just too much involved in the job description, and with that in mind, I'd better get running out to the barn to put Lefty out and to hear if they've figured out what the record-setting "secret sound" is on the country station.