COLUMN: Majoring in Play

    Whoever came up with the maxim “Work comes before play” is no friend of mine.

    I’m a big fan of playing, whether it be sports, video games or playing war in the mud with little green army men with my best friend on a Friday night. Which reminds me, I’d better call him and set that up for this weekend. If only he weren’t imaginary, it would sure make this a lot easier.

    In fact, as a child, I was encouraged to play. I was told it would enhance my creativity. All I knew was it sure beat whatever it was my dad did all day. Playing was my only task, and I was good at it.

    Sadly enough, I am a product of my environment and I was taught from a young age to play by imitating professions. The professions I played included such lucrative careers as a Ghostbuster, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle or a cowboy. All these were worthwhile endeavors, and my dream growing up was to stop the Stay Puft marshmallow man from destroying Salt Lake City.

    Seriously though, as I think back on childhood, I realize when I thought I was playing, I was really being bred to choose a career. I wasn’t the only one either. My entire generation was.

    Think about it, what games do children play? They pretend to be doctors (not in the sick, perverted way), construction workers, fire fighters and police officers.

    Children even play house – though the feminist movement confused this fun game by making the wife work outside of home. Maybe that’s why whenever I played house with girls they would disappear and I wouldn’t see them the rest of the day.

    So instead of learning to have true fun like lighting fireworks, sliding on a Slip ‘n Slide or how to become a top secret spy (oh wait, that’s a career again. Dang it.), I was being tricked into thinking work was fun. Sure that sounded good enough as a kid, but as soon as I turned 16, I knew the fun was over.

    I can still remember that fateful morning when I woke to a rent bill taped to my bedroom door and a note that said, “Get a job. It’s about time you paid your way in this world.”

    So off I went to get a job.

    My first task was to sit down and make a list of all my skills: amateur checkers champion, supporting actor in my sixth grade play, skilled at Star Craft, able to make macaroni and cheese and fairly decent at writing my name in cursive. Of the last I was particularly proud of. I was sure if every other job opportunity closed to me, surely I could be a monk.

    With my skill list in hand, I started persuing job postings: CEO wanted with more than 15 years experience in technology sector; marketing director needed with four years sales experience and masters degree; bagger at local grocery store, essential qualifications include being able to breathe, walk and not drool on the food (at least not while the customer is looking).

    Glancing down at my skills list, I knew the only thing I was qualified for was the latter, so I applied at my local grocery store as a bagger. I guess a lesson I learned from this was every job wants someone with experience, but nobody wants to give somebody a chance to get that experience.

    I remember going to the interview dressed up in a blue shirt and tie, thinking it was stupid that it’s proper etiquette to dress up for an interview to get a job as a bagger. Wouldn’t throwing on peasant clothes or a nice orange jumpsuit be more appropriate?

    All I really remember from the interview was the interviewer staring at me with a hard edge in his eye and him slowly sharpening a knife on a stone while he grilled me under a bare bulb about where the rebel spy base was located. I was later told by other employees that they didn’t have the experience. Weird.

    I somehow convinced the interviewer that I was capable of picking up cans of chicken noodle soup and placing them in a plastic bag without crushing eggs or squishing bread.

    Bagging groceries is not the most exciting job in the world, but it sure beats other jobs I’ve seen my peers doing, such as waving to traffic in a giant ice cream cone suit for an ice cream shop or conducting telemarketing surveys about which brand of laundry detergent leaves clothes feeling fresh and light. Now there’s a poll that will change the course of humanity.

    I’ve held a few other jobs since my days as a courtesy clerk – sadly that is the politically correct term for a bagger – and all of them have strengthened my belief that our society places way too much emphasis on work and not enough on fun.

    Just think of it, if fun came before work, dentist visits wouldn’t be dreaded because he would give an extra dose of laughing gas and everyone could have a good time. Or lawyers would actually crack a joke that was funny. Or teachers wouldn’t take themselves so seriously and give homework assignments like blowing bubbles in chocolate milk for 15 minutes a day.

    Sure nothing would get done, but maybe less people would get sick from stress and everyone would sure be a lot happier, especially the chocolate milk industry.

    I may not have all the answers, but all I know is all work and no play sounds like communism to me, so I’m going to live the American dream by earning a spot on the “Price is Right.”

Seth Hawkins is a junior majoring in public relations. When he’s not popping out of giant birthday cakes, he fills his time thinking up names for his pet rocks.