Into the fryer

I was reading an article about how minimum wage employees at McDonald's are going to go after the company because they occasionally get themselves burned on the job. Seems to me if you're working with hot grills, fryers full of hot oil and flames, getting burned just might be an occupational hazard.

Still, it's no fun. I know from experience.

The first job I ever had was at Fisher's Hamburgers at the Town and Country Shopping Center, across from Farmer's Market on 3rd and Fairfax. At the time, Fisher's was one of L.A.'s renowned hamburger places, often mentioned in the same revered breath by burger lovers as Tommy's, Cassell's, Dolores' and The Apple Pan. I'd eaten at Fisher's for years with my parents, and liked it so much I decided I wanted to work there. Displaying an unusual amount of moxie for a kid as young as I was at the time, I went in one day, walked right up to the owner - a man named Howard Shear - and asked if I could have a job. To my everlasting surprise, he gave me one.

I won't go into dates and ages, because that's on a need-to-know basis. And you don't need to know. Let's just say I could only dream of making the minimum wage McDonald's employees get today.

I learned all the details of how the restaurant worked. I made tartar sauce and thousand island dressing (not together) in vats in back that were so big we stirred them with our arms. Still not sure how the health department let that one get by. I also learned how to work all the stations at Fisher's: the register, the grill, the soda fountain, and the french fries.

The fryers were like the ones in the picture - big vats of oil heated to 400 degrees. The way you made fries was by putting raw, sliced potatoes in the basket, lowering it into the oil, and setting the timer for a couple minutes. When the fries were ready, you'd lift the basket out by the handle and shake the excess oil off the fries. In that process, lots of fries fell into the oil. Because of that, the fryers had to be cleaned many times during the course of the day.

The way you cleaned the fries out was by running a strainer over the top of the oil and scooping them up.

One day, I was cleaning the fryer and the handle on the strainer was a little greasy (Strainer? You strainer you brought her. Thanks, I'll be here all week). So I'm holding the greasy strainer handle, and it suddenly slips out of my hand and disappears down into the fryer. Without thinking, my cat-like reflexes kicked into action and I reached down into the boiling oil up to my elbow to grab it.

As we say in my country, not a smart move.

Everything went into slow motion. I looked down at my arm in the oil for what felt like hours, but in reality was only seconds. Next, I realized I could feel it burning and yanked it out (with the strainer in hand - mission accomplished). I dropped the strainer, and made a beeline to the ice machine by the soda fountain and rammed my red, right arm into the ice. To this day, I can hear the sizzling of the ice on my hot skin.

Fortunately, I'd gotten there fast enough. The ice took the burn away, and I had no scarring. Other than the emotional kind for doing something so stupid.

But the most important thing is I learned a valuable lesson I still use to this very day.

Don't go asking for jobs if you don't really need one.

Quittin' time

Since I started in the business, I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many people trying to get out. More than ever, people are dreaming of a way - screenplay, starting a business, moving away and the ever popular winning lotto. They all have one of two never-truer-than-now rallying cries: “The business isn’t what it used to be.” or “It’s not fun anymore.”

Despite the fact both are true, fewer people actually leave than would like to.

The reason’s simple: it’s the pure joy of creating work. The collaboration working with a partner who sees the execution of an idea exactly the way you do. The unparalleled fun of shepherding an idea through the agency. The unadulterated joy of doing work that can at times be both artistic and effective, and at the end of the day is always appreciated by clients, account people and the public alike.

Nah, I’m just messing with you. It’s the money.

I was talking with an art director friend of mine at lunch today about our day rates, and the fact the work we do isn’t exactly breaking rocks. Then we talked about people who do real jobs, like police, firemen, nurses, teachers, military personnel. It’s awfully unfair we get paid what we do, and they get paid so little for doing real work that actually impacts lives on a daily basis.

Yet it is what it is. Supply and demand. Free market. Yada yada yada.

Of course, inequity in job salaries is nothing new. On Facebook, people love showing their righteous indignation by asking why CEO’s of a corporation should make more than people on its assembly line. Here’s the answer: it takes a different set of skills to run a company than it does to work on the line. It’s not hard to figure out.

In a perfect world, it’d be great if things were more equitable. And we’ve tried through legislation to even the playing field. But good intentions can backfire. For example, raising the minimum wage. Each time the minimum wage goes up, mostly unskilled labor enjoys a hike in pay. Don’t get me wrong: I think more money is always a good thing no matter what your position. Unless you’re one of the employees laid off as a result of it

If a small business owner has to increase pay for three of his minimum wage employees, his costs go up - he has to cover them somehow. The choices are few: raise consumer prices, which always leads to fewer consumers, or let one of his three employees go so he can give the other two the minimum wage hike.

Of course now, the other two will be earning it since they’ll be doing the work of three people.

I suppose the idea of mandatory minimum wage increases is easier for people to accept than performance based ones, using criteria like merit and value to the company as guidelines. It sounds so quaint even as I type it.

But I digress. Where was I?

Oh, right, I was getting out of advertising.

Just as soon as I can afford it.