John Howell-Books |
I don’t want to be Edith, as nice as she was, but it does seem
that I’m now one of the oldest people at work. In a meeting, I look around and
see no gray heads—I’m it. I’m now older than the head of the company, older
than my boss — and for the first time, I’m older than the president of the
United States. I’m even older than my doctor (who replaced the one who retired).
What does this mean, if anything? When I was young, I
thought that the older people were in charge — and respected them. Now, although
I actually have years of life experience and am more comfortable with myself, I
still feel like one of the kids.
Does being in charge make you “older?” Is it an internal
decision to be a parent to those around you? I could be the parent of some of my
colleagues. My granddaughter is the age of some of my work colleagues’ kids.
After I graduated from college in 1978, I went to work in a
long-established antiquarian bookstore in San Francisco. Just to show how
things have changed, here’s how I got the job. I met a woman at a party. I took
the streetcar downtown to the employment agency where she worked. I sat down
and she opened a metal box with file cards in it.
She pulled out a card. “How would you like to work in a
bookstore?” she asked. I said, “Sure.” She sent me over there and I was hired and
began my first full-time post-college job at John Howell-Books.
The bookstore was owned and operated by Warren Howell, “the
white-thatched dean of western bookmen.” He was about 6-6, solidly built, and
used to being in charge. His father, John, had established the business in
1912, and designed and moved it into a quaint location near Union Square in
1924.
Mr. Howell’s right-hand woman was Sally Zaiser, a gracious
and highly intelligent woman who was in the Who’s Who of American Women. She managed
the accounting, which was done with a pen in a paper ledger. No, we had no
computers there—not even a cash register (we had a cash drawer).
We did take
credit cards. We put the card into a metal sliding device and pulled the handle
across it. The charge slip had carbon paper in it, so we had multiple copies.
We had to call an 800 number to confirm the purchase.
Sally and I got along just fine, although she and Mr. Howell
were both conservative Republicans and I was the opposite. It was a huge change
from going to college, and Sally was not much like Edith.
In any case, I realize now that Mr. Howell was 65 when I
first started working there—and Sally was 63. That’s essentially my age now.
But they were what 60-year-old people were like back then, and were in a different
role as well. So — age may not bring authority, even if it does impart
knowledge and experience.
Things are upside down now, but I’m OK with it.
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