A few years ago when I decided to become a full time writer, I gave up a position in finance at a wine and spirits company in New York. It was a tough decision to leave that security, but something that I felt I had to do in order to devote my energy to my passion.
The path I chose hasn’t been easy, and I often find myself scrambling around to earn extra income. My mother has offered her assistant with this on several occasions by letting me know about job openings she reads in the paper.
“They’re looking for a school bus driver,” she told me one day. “It pays more than you make now.”
“I don’t think I’m qualified,” I said. “But you might be, considering you used to drive eight kids around in a station wagon.”
She’s offered other suggestions like positions for fry cooks, backhoe operators and Lieutenant Governor. I vetoed all of them because for one, I didn’t think I was qualified, and two, I wasn’t really looking for a full time job. I needed an income source that was flexible so I could work around working on my second manuscript, book signings and school visits.
More recently, my mother told me that my brother, Jude of Jude Couvillon’s Appliances, was looking for someone to help with servicing appliances. I was going to veto that suggestion also, but realized that maybe I no longer had a choice to be so selective. I’ve learned the true meaning of, “starving artist,” and have to come to realize that if I don’t start selling more books, I will have to return to the work force full time and put my writing career on hold.
I am ready to fight for my passion, but am also aware of the reality of life. So I’ve come up with a creative way to combine writing and looking for other sources of income. For the next several weeks, I will go to different jobs throughout Vermilion Parish and find out what they entail, and what kinds of qualifications I will need. Hopefully, my book The Chicken Dance will sell well during the holiday season and I’ll be able to continue writing. If it doesn’t though, I’ll at least have a head start on my job search.
The first job I decided to try out was for the position my brother Jude had advertised in the Meridional. I hadn’t worked with him since I was a teenager and we’d run my dad’s crawfish cages together. While I emptied the cages, Jude would drive the boat and yell at me if I was too slow.
“The Golden Rule is that if there’s one crawfish left in the cage, forget about it,” he’d tell me. “I don’t want to have to stop this boat again.”
On the morning I got dressed to head over to Jude’s store in Abbeville (3221 Veterans Memorial), I decided that since my mother had suggested that I go and work for him, that maybe she should also consider re-entering the work force and come with me. So I woke her up and told her to get dressed for the job I got her.
“I’m retired,” my mother said. “And just living with you is like work.”
I convinced her to come with me by telling her that Jude had a bag of aluminum cans that he’d saved for her. She was ready in ten minutes, and then the two of us headed to Abbeville for our new job.
When we walked into Jude’s store, we were greeted by him and his office manager, Debra. I told her that my mother and I were there to work for a couple of hours so I could find out if it was the right job for us.
“I’m only here to pick up the cans so I can save the earth,” my mother said. “Where are they?”
“You’ll get them after you do some work,” I said. “Why don’t you start by cleaning the toilet?”
My mother told me that I would be disinherited if I made her do that. I let her know that she couldn’t threaten me with that anymore because I had already lost my inheritance in high school for staying out past my curfew. I lost it again in college because I didn’t major in Education, and a few weeks ago when I forgot to feed her cats.
“I’ve already lost my inheritance too,” Jude said to my mother. “So if you want those cans, make sure you clean that toilet good.”
Shortly after, I brought my mother to her sister’s house (with her cans) and then headed out on the road with Jude to learn about being a small business owner, and an appliance service technician. Along the way, I asked Jude what was the best and worst part of his career.
“The worst part is the lack of security, and the unsteady flow of income,” he said. “The best part is being my own boss and meeting so many great and friendly people in the parish.”
Jude has been servicing appliances for over twenty years, and has owned his business since 1999. His credentials include a degree in Air Conditioning and Refrigeration from Louisiana Technical College in Abbeville, and several years of experience as an assistant manager at Robie’s.
“I wrote a book about chickens and I know how to type,” I said. “Does that make me qualified to do what you do?”
“Not at all,” he said. “But I’d be willing to train you if you aren’t scared of lifting heavy equipment and getting your hands dirty.”
We pulled into the driveway of one of Jude’s customers and were greeted by a lovely woman who said she was having problems with her dishwasher. Jude introduced me as his brother and told her that I was with him because I was writing an article for the paper.
“He’s going to need to know how many cavities you have,” Jude said to the woman. “I told him six. Is that right?”
The woman laughed and said that she loved Jude’s sense of humor and it was one of the reasons she was a faithful customer and let him work on all of her appliances. After she showed us the problem with her dishwasher, she excused herself and went outside. While Jude was unscrewing panels on the appliance, I began looking at pictures that were hanging on the wall in the kitchen. Within a few minutes, I found myself walking down the hallway to check out the rest of the house.
“Get over here, Jacques!” Jude yelled. “You need to respect people’s privacy. That’s the Golden Rule.”
“I’m confused,” I said. “I thought the Golden Rule was that I shouldn’t waste time trying to get one crawfish out of the cage.”
Jude told me that for the rest of the day, I wasn’t allowed to be more than five feet away from the appliance or that my interview would end sooner than I’d planned. I decided that since I didn’t want to have to tell my mother that my own brother fired me, I should probably listen.
As I watched Jude unscrew bolts and examine the parts of the dishwasher with the certainty and confidence of a surgeon, I knew that he was a man who loved working with his hands and mechanical objects. I envied my brother for his gift, because I myself have a difficult time getting the chain back on my bike, and I couldn’t fathom fixing a machine that ran off of electricity and water.
When Jude was finished, the dishwasher worked as if new and the customer thank him with the same amount of gratitude my mother gave when people handed her a sack of aluminum cans they’d been saving for her. Jude told the customer to have a nice Halloween, and then he and I got back in the truck and headed out.
“I don’t think this is the right job for me because I might have a problem following the Golden Rule,” I said. “But if I decided to start my own business, what piece of advice would you give to me?”
“Be sure to budget your money because you never know what tomorrow is going to bring,” he told me. “And you have to be friendly, and understand customers’ wants and needs. They are the ones who sign your paycheck.”
For more information on courses and degrees available at Louisiana Technical College, call 893-4984. For more information on starting your own business, call the Small Business Administration at 504-589-6685 or visit their website at www.sba.gov.
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