Writing About Our Generation

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My Worst Job Ever: Work should be more than work

      I was thrilled when out of the blue I was offered a job to create an investigative unit at a local TV station.  

      For more than 20 years I had been on the road producing true crime TV series. So, even though I was working as a freelance producer for major national cable and broadcast networks, at 57, I was looking forward to having some stability in my life.  

      The red carpet was rolled out when I started. The bosses sang my praises to the newsroom staff, which consisted of reporters and producers half my age. Whether it was jealousy, the fact I got my own office or I was old enough to be their mother, I was persona non grata from that day forward. It never changed in the seven years I worked there. 

      I had started in TV news two years after the Watergate scandal ended. During that time, I worked at six local stations as a reporter, writer and producer. Each newsroom was a small dysfunctional family.  

      Every night, no matter which city I worked in, the staff would go to the neighborhood bar to bitch about management or share their frustrations with their current stories. No matter how bad your day was, it would end with a beer and relief that you aired out your grievances to fight another day. 

      I never experienced the camaraderie of those past newsrooms at this latest job. There was never an invitation for dinner or a drink, not even a cup of coffee. It was uncomfortable working in such a cold atmosphere of mistrust and unfriendliness. 

      When I quit, I returned to freelancing. I am grateful to work from home with two affectionate cats at my feet. I still cherish those salad days of my career when a newsroom seemed like the “Cheers” bar—not only did everyone know your name but they were always glad you were there.  

      [This is the fourth installment in a series on worst jobs. Let us know what’s the worst job you have ever had. Something you suffered through while young? Or an adult drudgery? Or something good that turned bad? Write to us at writingaboutourgeneration@gmail.com.]