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  • HI folks the server that hosts the site completely died including the Hdd's and backups.
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jobs,how long did you last

I always wondered why I had to re-grind so many cutting tools first thing in the morning. :'( :'( I was an apprentice toolmaker at Chester St. :tickedoff:
 
sorry mate,but all that practice must have made you very good at it,a lot went straight in the cut,trying to sink the cardboard boxes we dropped in to watch blow down the cut,oh to be bored :2funny: :2funny: :2funny:
 
the good thing about being given the boot (my version ,mangement said redundant) was that you could sign on without having the spanish inquisition,and you were SAFE for 6 months,after that the grief use to start,it was stop your money OR join THE JOB CLUB :2funny: :2funny:,turn up for 3 hours a day,get your bus fayre (4 minutes away,they didnt ask,me being a gentleman ,didnt tell them),what a load of misfits all dodging the the thought of a job,(i use to get a job when the money ran out),but this crew were pros ,never done a day and were never going to,there was a bob marley tribute band,they smoked a wierd kind of baccy most of the time :2funny:.spent most of the time reading pop music mags,there was the entire cast of ghandi ,who used to bring me curries to take home,several irish lads reading the racing pages ,motely crew of brummies,doing absolutly nothing,instruction periods consisted of being taught interview skills such as talking to each other using a phone with no wire on it,writing your name on a big sheet of paper and showing it to the person sitting next to you (suppose to break down barriers),on one side i had bob marley jnr whose writing skills were a bit suspect ,couldnt make head or tail of it,on the the other side ihad a chap whose name was so long ,he started writing normal size but then had to go smaller and smaller till he ran out out of room and had to use the other side of his sheet,humour is a great barrier break down,not silly exsersices,we were all in bits ,much to the annoyance of the multi degreed teacher,they were never taught what the real world was like.then tragedy struck,a dear friend of mine GOT ME A JOB,WHAT SORT OF FRIEND DOES THAT,it was at salisbury transmissions at bromford lane ward end,but luck was on my side,this was the era of the miners strike and the 3 day week,i could manage 3 days,this was fine till we decided to march (or drive)to the gates at saltley to support the miners who were blocking the gates trying to stop the lorries getting in.only trouble was ,we had to pass a few pubs on the way,the eagle the mitre and a couple more,so by the time i got there iwas a bit lively ,most people when having a few get noisey and violent,not me ,i havent got an aggressive bone in my body,everybodys my friend and all girls are beautiful,(i am the the bloke who on seeing someone run for a bus and the driver pulls away ,even tho hes sees them gives them a lift to the catch up the bus at the next stop and wag my finger at the driver).getting in the spirit of things(more spirit than things),i am seen to be climbing the gates and generally having a roaring time waving at film crews and doing a very bad wolfie smith impression.next thing i know iam being battered by a very enthusiastic copper with a truncheon (i bet it was you FRANTIC getting your own back for your crappy reliant),i was thrown very heavily into the back of a police van with all the finesse of the waffen ss and generally given a good hiding,but i have a guardian angel,a bit cranky but she never lets me down,bless her,next thing i know i am grabbed very gently by the throat (liar) and flung into a fence with the words ringing in my ears YER NOT THROWING UP IN MY VAN YOU *********,fate had intervened and i was on my toes and away up cato st like no ones business.worse was yet to come,when i got home my dad who was a workaholic had seen me swinging on the gates and generally making a fool of myself all on national tv(isometimes see myself whenever they dig up the miners strike as they always show the gate bit,so as andy warhole said everybody has their 15 minutes of fame .i get mine over and over ,do you think i should ask for royalties.the next day i couldnt walk as i had 3 broken ribs a couple of teeth gone ,massive bruising and a hangover oliver reed would have been proud of.i stayed off for a bit revelling in my telly appearance,but when i returned to work i was told that i had let the image of the trade union down (2000 drunk wesh minres scrapping with the police didnt fit either and i bet they didnt sack them either)so it was 2 weeks money and away i went again.you might ask thats nothing to be proud of but i never believe in being dull or commited,life is for living and making people around me smile (quietly behind my back while extolling the virtues of hard work.hard work never killed anybody did it ?look in the cmeteries at the ages of your grand parents ,i think i will always be a loafer but never bored or fed up with life ,this is it folks its not a rehearsel ,treat every day and everybody like its going to be your last and you will have a lot of friends and fantastic memories.i might add ,down at the dole they were not exactly over the moon at my re appearanc,but i didnt leave of my own accord so i was safe for a bit longer,much to the snotty tyke behind the desk,who happened to to prince albert school as me and i never liked him then,but he must have had a long memory as he tried everything to get my dole stopped ,but i knew more about the dole than he did,so once a fortnight i would get the third degree ,but he never won,hes probably doing councelling now to the deaf ,dumb and daft wondering where he went wrong
 
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out of the front door in high street ,cross the street past the the scotch house ,pass the opening where the tea chest store was ,pass the houses,into the paper shop in whitehead st ,it had a bell above the the door that would raise the dead,past mickey cartwrights entry and into wilfred clarkes wire factory.this factory made wire trays and trollies,the old man wouldnt have been out of place in the 1800s ,if he had any chinmeys us youngsters would have been shoved up em,the son use to walk around wearing his immaculetly white overalls ,lording it over us (batting other side?).this is where evey kid for miles worked here at some time,in the back was a machine cutting the wire to the correct length then loaded onto the mass of spot welding machines spewing out showers of sparks all over anyone who was near,the lad who worked this always had a ciggy hanging off his lip,head tilted to one side to stop the smoke going in his eyes,in the next room was the welding shop ,where i was,working with me was bunny johnson the young west indian boxer,he made a name for himself later ,but not quite making the big time,he now coaches somewhere in bham,this area had broken windows ,no heating ,no fume extraction,no such thing as health and safety,the rain and snow use to blow in while we piled on clothing just to keep warm.our job was to notch out the angle iron,then bend into squares ready for welding,these were the frames for trollies for big chain shops.onto these we had to weld galvanised castors,the white acrid fumes would coat us all over in whipsy trails of poisonous toxic garlands ,but when you are teenager thing like this never seemed important,when it got too bad ,we just put our heads out of the open broken windows and coughed yer lungs up,when possible we used to have mock sparring sessions to get him into shape and i would offer all sorts of rubbishy advice (i told ossie ozbourne he couldnt sing and to stay in a factory,and also told led zepplein wouldnt get anywhere with a name change to that,but i still keep sending the begging letters tho).the cold and fumes finally got the better of me ,so on went me coat and away again,there was always a pool of youngsters desperate for a job ,not like today,but another experience under my belt,there was always another job ,just around the corner.

am i the only lazy bugger on here,surely you all never stayed in one job,come on ,own up after all these years,the truancy man has long been made redundant,fatherxmas yer not allowed to post as its a regular job ,you havent walked out yet :2funny: :2funny:
 
OK Dolly I'll own up to having had lots of jobs in the sixties, working in different offices in Corporation Street and New Street. One of the old buildings we were up the top of the building and I had the place to myself most of the time so one afternoon 'cos I was going straight out from work that night, I had nothing better to do than to wash my hair in the little sink there and then towelled it dry with the roller towel. I carefully applied my make-up again - Miners Baby Pink lipstick, white glossy eye shadow and panda-like eye liner with plenty of mascara, changed my dress which I'd flung under the desk in a carrier bag and I was off, felt like the bees knees. I think that was the only time I ever had the chance to skive though, never been so fortunate since. :laugh: :2funny:
 
Gem St version, what's that? I think it's your very own version. What does it matter anyway, we know what you're saying and that's all that counts. Actually, the sixties was all about skiving really wan't it, I think a lot of people did and we had loads of fun but most of us managed to grow into responsible adults, well almost!

:crazy2:
 
Do you know I only had one job until I left Brum in the late 50's. that was ar ICI. We had so much fun as teenagers, going to the youth club and dances at the pavillion on Saturday night. such innocent days, we bought the latest records for the gram in the youth club, The lads had a drum kit and played a lot of football. There were a lot of us kids and there was plenty of young love and broken hearts. I have great memories of those few short years, I never had any money, I had to give most of the £2.10s 0d I earned to mom, but I never thought of working anywhere else. The worst things I ever did was when I was married, I peeled mushroom for our dinner in my desk drawer, and took a sicky and went shopping. ::)
 
You wicked wicked woman Di.....I'm shocked...........peeling mushrooms in your drawers........well I never!........you just wait till I spread THAT round the canteen :2funny:
 
Top marks for initiative Di. It was a case of having to get your priorities right wasn't it. :2funny:
 
I lasted three weeks for Vidal Sassoon  in Birmingham city center in the early 80s.
I have always wanted to be a hairdresser from the age of 4,so when i left school i managed to get an apprentice ship with this quite famous company,but it only lasted 3 weeks because the director told me i had to have my long curly hair chopped off! :'( I  was having none of it so i walked out :tickedoff:,i did get another apprentice ship with another salon who just loved my hair the way it was. :)
 
you could come out of my house in high st aston and go in any direction(up high st down whitehead rd ,down park lane,down high st ,across whitehead st)and there was always somewhere in a 20 minute walk that you could get a job at,(mind you i was having to travel a bit further as i had been to most of them)this job was a bit farther afield,DARTMOUTH AUTO CASTINGS in smethwick,this was the place dante modelled his inferno on(grammer education coming out again).i was on nights as a fettler,sounds like something kenneth williams and his crew would be messing with),but thats where the simillarity end.fettling is the posh term for weilding a bloody great noisey grinder and cleaning all the rough edges on the engine blocks that had been cast.wrapped in a filthy earthen sack with your trousers tied up so the sparks didnt fly up your legs,bits of cloth on yer arms ,and a face mask that made me gag after a couple of minute.these were the jobs that the local white population didnt want to do(and honestly i didnt blame them)the whole place was covered in black slag and dust,every crevice had an inch of dust on them ,the big light bulbs high in the air were twice their normal size with the dust and the light struggled to shine thru,everything you touched left its mark on on you as if being brushed with charcoal.being piecework the noise was unbelievable ,and in the distance you could see the molten cast steel being poured into moulds and huge fountains of sparks showering everywhere,this was armageddon come early.break time slowly came round,and as the shrill of the hooter died away,out of the dark stinking gloom emerged loads of workers covered from head to foot in stinking burnt rags ,this was their only protection from burns sparks ,dust and everything else that was in there,these were the first generations of indians and pakistanis that were encouraged here as we didnt want to do these jobs,as there were nt many of them,you never felt threatened by them,they willingly shared their food and tea with me and thru very bad broken english asked why i was doing such a bad job,when this is all what they could get.they were grafters (will get told off for this but this generatio nwas grafters ,not like the generations that were to follow.ther was one bloke who used to work 3 shifts (yes 3)he would snatch an hour or so kip in a wheelbarrow then clock in again under another name ,do 8 hours then clock out and clock in again,me ,one shift was one too many,i also learned how they all ended up with a house which was paid for.the british would never do this ,but it was such a simple idea.There would be a headman ,who would be in charge of about 15 of his countrymen,they would all live in one house,and he would supply all the food,every pay day the headman would collect all the unopened wage packets then pool it,till there was enough to buy one house for cash(mid 1960s.couple of grand you got a house in aston ,witton alum rock) this would then be turned over to one of them(who in turn rented it out to the new wave of immigrants),he would still hand over his un opened wage packet till everyone of the original group owned their own house,these guys were grafters and earned huge wages as they had nothing to spend it on or go anywhere ,all they wanted was more hours to work,threr was me looking for less,i cannot fault that generation for graft ,pity about today,when you had 15 wages ,it didnt take long to raise 3 or 4 grand ,not like mr and mrs average who had just signed their life away for the next 30 years.the burns and eye accidents were pretty awful and too regular for my liking.of a night i used go outside for a smoke (that was a joke in there with all those acrid fumes) i used to stare up at those huge chimneys spewing out all that smoke and rubbish and think to myself ,what the bloody hell are you doing here doing this,you will be an old man before your time unless your chest kills you before.so one night i just left my earthen sack ,gloves and face mask and done another runner.i never went back myself for my p45 ,i always used to send my mate( i did it for him),he would turn up with a signed note saying i had to rush over to ireland as my granny had fell off her perch suddenly and i had to rush over to make the arrangements,my granny had been laid to rest that many times she was nicknamed yo yo findon,up and down up and down.still we had a few bob,a motor bike ,fishing tackle and wonderful loving parents who used to turn a blind eye,many times my mother would give me money out of her housekeeping just so i could hand it to my dad on friday night as if i had been paid.he would then give it to mom saying heres our peters housekeeping money,5 minute later mom would slip it back to me so i could go the geach or the bham or anywhere i wanted ,as this was aston in the sixties,wherelse would you want to live .today i am afraid the my only way out is in a box(CO OP BOX OF COURSE .must keep up our standards) next problem was that un sympathetic lot at beacon hill labour exchange ,had to get my story right or no dole,not like today i would do them for picking on a minority :2funny: :2funny: :2funny: :2funny: :2funny:
my
 
Hi

The golden 60's. Every morning my mate and I would go through
the Birmingham Post. Sometimes I could get an interview at Lunch Time
and get a Job offer the next day. We used this method to get rises
from our current employer. Often around 10 bob that bought a lot.
A classic however was Moss Gear. Arrived around 2-00pm and had an
intense interview with a load of tests. Tour around the Factory
and it was around 5-30pm. Well I said have I got the Job. Well
the guy said if you want it. How much a week I asked £15 a week.
Took the offer letter back to work. Next day handed in my notice
and was marched up to the Finance Dirctors office. He came in
stern looking and said he didnt like Blackmail. He offered me £2 extra
to £18 per week. I sat back in my chair a job offer From Moss gear at
£1 week less, than I was currently on.
A year later it didnt work got a job offer from Tangee Shelley of
£19 per week and my boss said sorry Mike you will have to leave.
In two years I moved from £13 per to £19 per week by this method.
The Golden 60's.
Mike
 
My first job was as a floristry apprentice at Martin's Florist on Soho Road.
I earned 31 shillings and four pence a week and a free bunch of flowers for my mom. It was hard work mossing hundreds of frames in the cellar for the wreaths. Funeral work was a huge part of the floral business then.
I stayed there three years and then went to Barrows Food Store - flower dept. (do you remember it, it was a very up scale place) I was only there about nine months and they were taken over, so last one in, first one out. I decided at that point to move out of the floristry world.
I did however go back into floristry here in Canada when our children went into High School.:) MoView attachment 7110
 
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My father in law worked at Beacon Hill Labour Exchange, he was a lovely man, i do know that one of his sayings was, if you want work say you want work.
 
My first job was in Neweys offices i got £7pounds10 shillings a week i loved going on the bus to work in the mornings. happy days
 
Back in the 80s, and not long after I had moved up here to Scotland, I got a job as a labourer at a engineering works in Troon. I hated it from day one. My main job was to sweep up and lift swarf, ( metal fragments that come from using a lathe ). Because they didnt issue me with any protective gear, i,e, gloves or overalls, my hands where ripped to shreds on the first day. I struggled through day two, but what really clinched it for me, was on the third day, on the way to work, someone ran in to my car whilst I popped in the shop for a paper. That was enough. I told them I,d had enough, and that I was finished. So I lasted three days. Barry.
 
I started as a Junior Clerk at the Britannic Assurance Moor Green Lane £11.61 pence a week, pay wasn't wonderful but there were perks such as meals.
 
Mr Dolly- I like your story - so full of fun - and though a girl I did some damnable things too. LOL

I am told at 4.11 just 7 stone I am small - and yes you were just skin and bone -just a kid with a lot of gumption that's admirable in my book - and you made it didn't you - of course you did!
 
worst jobs

The worst job i ever did was at G K N at Stirchley, i did'nt last very long, about a month i think. My job was packing S hooks, rather like Butchers hooks, i'm not sure if that was what they were used for. It was murder on your hands, they were tipped onto your bench all tangled up, by the time you had sorted them and boxed them your hands were sore and looking like pin cushions. it was a big shock to me never having worked in a Factory before, i was trying to earn a few extra bob to build up a deposit for a house and factories paid better wages than shops. I do'nt suppose the factory is there any more. I worked there in the early 60s.
 
Worst cleaner in the world job!

You can have a laugh at my expensive, my husband did and my kids!
I had always prided myself in being a good hard worker,but when you are over 50 its hard to find a job! They think you are past common sense!
So I applied for a housekeeper's post, well paid for only 20 hours a week, ideal I thought!
The lady of the house sat on her f** backside whilst I was directed in my duties: strip all the beds, wash all bedlinen, dry and iron and put back on beds, hoover, dust every room in house (large house) I was given a small nail brush to brush her rugs by hand, after hoovering (so the pile lay the same way) Then to top it all I was given 2 toothbrushes to clean & polish every brass door handle in the place! This was my first and last day, by the time I got home, I was so tired I could barely speak. I rang her the next day and said I quit, her reply: " I didn't think you were up to my previous cleaner's standard's" She should has advertised for a "skivvy" not a housekeeper!

Barbara
 
Two Rotten Jobs

I applied for a Saturday job at the new Woolworths that was to open at Wylde Green in 1966/7 and was sent out to various stores for training before it opened. This included being sent to the sub-basement of the one in the Bull Ring where I had to wrap cheese into cling film all day. Easy...yes... but I cannot stand the smell or taste of cheese even now.

I got talked into trying a factory job during the 70s where I had to stand all day just pulling a lever and pushing something into the machine. I have always had a bad back but this made it even worse and it was so utterly boring. I left after 3 and a half days.
 
Hi, my dad worked at Salisbury Transmissions from 1967 - 1978. I'm looking for anyone who may know him. His name is Dermot Kehoe (now 72 years old). He was a manual worker but I'm not exactly sure what he did?? I wasn't born until 1975. My dad now has vascular dementia so id really like to make contact with people who remember him. Maybe if I drop him a few names it might jog a memory or two. Thanks in advance!
 
My first job was a trainee tailor, this choice may have been influenced by me always having hand downs from my older brother. I suppose watching mom turning the collars and cuffs on our shirts helped as well. I did not like it so I went onto the Co op bread at Stetchford, the round covered a large part of Shard End. Meanwhile my brother had started work at the Co-op milk in Hall Green and although he started a couple of hours earlier than me, he finished quite a bit earlier. This caused me to have a transfer onto the milk and I was finally happy at work. I had always wanted to be a driver really and when the horses were pensioned off I realised that I could drive the milk float if I had a license. I passed my test quite soon after getting a provisional and of course that opened up a whole new ball game with a lot more job options. I started working as a driver delivering second hand timber, cut to size along with sand, gravel and cement. It was a demolition company and as soon as I was 17 I transferred onto a seven and a half ton tipper, no special license required. Then when I was 21 I got my HGV paperwork and started work for Road Services Caledonia at the Tyseley depot. I learned to Tie anything onto a lorry taught by the Scottish men who drove from Dumfries. Six came down on Sunday so they arrived Monday morning, As they left Tysely on Monday evening so another six left Dumfries to arrive here Tuesday morning. I went all over the country on that job. After a few years I changed to Lowes Transport, best job I ever had, again going all over country. When my arthritis got too bad I went onto the Midland Red Buses because the load would walk on rather than me handle it. I met a few decent men on the buses Motorman Mike being one of them. Again, when the arthritis worsened I went on a course to be a Birmingham Tourist Guide then I got a Hackney carriage license and worked as a taxi
driver in Birmingham. I did a lot of work with people wanting to see old Birmingham but because customers would ask for me at their hotel reception I also started getting work looking after stars and famous people. Mixed in with all this was a doorman (bouncer) for Mothers Club and a couple of years at The Tower Ballroom. I also repaired clocks and watches for few years as a hobby, I was not an expert you understand but I would remove the broken part and take it to one of several shops that were around at that time. They would look at the part then get a new one, I would then fit the part and make sure it was all working correctly before turning it to the owner.
When one writes a few lines like this it brings back so many memories and makes you realise how long life really is. I have many memories of my dad taking me fishing mainly in the Round Pool in Acocks Green Park or the canal in Knowle.
 
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