Sherry Chandler

From this morning’s NYTimes :

ROCK FALLS, Ill. — Alan Beggerow has stopped looking for work. Laid off as a steelworker at 48, he taught math for a while at a community college. But when that ended, he could not find a job that, in his view, was neither demeaning nor underpaid.

So instead of heading to work, Mr. Beggerow, now 53, fills his days with diversions: playing the piano, reading histories and biographies, writing unpublished Western potboilers in the Louis L’Amour style — all activities once relegated to spare time. He often stays up late and sleeps until 11 a.m.

“I have come to realize that my free time is worth a lot to me,” he said.

…

Alan Beggerow has not worked regularly in the five years since the steel mill that employed him for three decades closed. He and his wife, Cathleen, 47, cannot really afford to live without his paycheck. Yet with her sometimes reluctant blessing, Mr. Beggerow persists in constructing a way of life that he finds as satisfying as the work he did only in the last three years of his 30-year career at the mill. The trappings of this new life surround Mr. Beggerow in the cluttered living room of his one-story bungalow-style home in this half-rural, half-industrial prairie town west of Chicago. A bookcase covers an entire wall, and the books that Mr. Beggerow is reading are stacked on a glass coffee table in front of a comfortable sofa where he reads late into the night — consuming two or three books a week — many more than in his working years.

…

Always on the coffee table is a thick reference work, “Guide to the Pianist’s Repertoire” by Maurice Hinson. Mr. Beggerow is a serious pianist now that he has the time to practice, sometimes two or three hours at a stretch. He does so on an old upright in a corner of the living room, a piano he purchased as a young steelworker, when he first took lessons.

Is this some kind of post-traumatic stress syndrome or a social/philosophical breakthrough? Mr. Beggerow’s life sounds like the kind of idyll described by very famous literary figures, men such as Samuel Johnson, Henry David Thoreau, George Bernard Shaw, as described in Tom Lutz’s book Doing Nothing. (And who’s to say potboiler westerns are not sufficiently literary to justify this kind of life?)

Men like Mr. Beggerow, neither working nor looking for a job, also have become more common in the popular culture, making the phenomenon more acceptable. On the television show “Seinfeld,” Cosmo Kramer, who did not work, and George Costanza, who regularly lost jobs, were beloved figures. Personal-finance magazines whose circulations have grown rapidly over the last 25 years also encourage not working — by telling readers how to afford retirement at 50 and by painting not working as the good life, which it apparently is for a small number of wealthy men. About 8 percent of non-working men between 30 and 54 lived in households that had more than $100,000 of income in 2004.

“Men don’t feel a need to be in a career, not as much as they once did,” said Ruth Milkman, a sociologist at the University of California at Los Angeles. “Nor do men have the incentive they once had to pursue a career, not when employers are no longer committed to them.”

And yet, it takes a certain toll. Mr. Beggerow’s wife is sticking with him even though they don’t have enough money to cover expenses . Other men in this position had less compliant wives and so they are divorced; 60% of these men live alone for some reason. According to this Times article, about 13% of American men 30-55 years old are not working. They are not looking for work and so they don’t show up in our low 4.6% unemployment rate. About two million of these men have felony records, mostly from drug convictions in the 1980s and 90s. Coming out of jail now, in their thirties, guess what? They can’t find work.

But these ex-prisoners are in the minority. Most of these men could find work of some kind but, like “Bartleby the Scrivener,” they prefer not to. Here’s Mr. Beggerow’s reason:

Mr. Beggerow will not take a lesser job, he says, because of his bitter memories of earlier years at Northwestern Wire, particularly the 1980’s, when the industry was in turmoil. A powerful man, over 6 feet and 200 pounds, he worked then as a warehouseman.

What got to him was not the work. It was the frequent furloughs, the uncertainty whether he would be recalled, the mandatory overtime and 50-hour weeks often imposed when he did return, the schedules that forced him to work every holiday except Christmas, and then, as rising seniority finally gave him some protection, a six-month strike in 1983 followed by a wage cut. His pay shrank to $13 an hour from $17, a loss he did not fully recover until those last three years.

“I was always thinking if there was some way I could get out of this, do something else,” Mr. Beggerow said. “What made me so upset was the insecurity of it all and the humiliation. I don’t want to take a job that would put me through that again.”

If I remember correctly (I don’t have to book at hand), Lutz theorizes that slackers emerge in times of change, when an old way of life is disappearing and a new one is not yet established. Guess that’s where we are.

“Ah Bartleby! Ah humanity!”

David Snell sends news:

The Paper Journey Press is pleased to announce that David H. Snell’s story, “Nocturnal Omission,” has been included in Blink: Flash Fiction Before You Can Bat an Eye, ISBN 09773156-4-9. Blink is available through Barnes and Noble, Amazon.com and all independent bookstores.
Blink is a delightful collection of stories by writers from around the country as well as, Great Britain and Canada.

Paper Journey Editor Wanda Wade Mukherjee says “While these stories were written by authors from opposite sides of the country and from around the globe, they appear to be tightly woven together as if by some mysterious glue–a mystical reunion of kindred spirits, so to speak.”

Delightfully funny, sometimes sinful, occasionally mournful–this collection of flash fiction tells the stories of every day folks at various crossroads, whose lives intermingle in brief, transitory moments magically intersecting at times.

“Readers can easily read Blink in one sitting in the sand at the beach or better yet, while on a train ride or while waiting for a flight,” says Mukherjee. “The stories are great fun, but some are quite serious in their thirst to discover fate within the concept of time and that space between when anything can happen but usually doesn’t.”

Snell’s other stories have appeared in Original Sin: The Seven Deadlies Come Home to Roost. His poetry can be found in Kudzu and Pegasus.