Tag Archives: apprenticeship

1689. Gadgetry

Alva was one of those slightly past-middle-age rich people who lived alone and entertained themselves with every new gadget that came on the market. Her garden gate opened by remote control just by pressing a button on her diamond watch. The front and back doors to the house had locks with number pads. Her television on the wall could turn slightly to the left and right depending on where she was in the house. For example, if she was in the kitchen the television screen could turn slightly to the left. Gadget after gadget…

Alva had a large house which she shared with a lodger called Howard. Howard was a promising plumber. He had an apprenticeship. A practical hands-on job with some mathematics suited Howard down to the ground. Alva let him stay for a song. It was her way of helping someone young get a start in life. Of course, Howard the Plumber was as into gadgetry as Alva – and a handy gadget fixer as well!

“What I dislike most of all about modern things,” said Howard to Alva, “is having to remember all these different passwords and pin numbers.”

“Oh, I just use the same one for everything,” said Alva.

“That’s a good idea,” said Howard.

A week later, Howard had a brand new car, and Alva had no money in her bank account.

1083. Pie in the sky

Simon hated school, and today was his last day at secondary school. Next week he would start his first job at the Industrial Park with an apprenticeship.

On the last day of school, the principal held an assembly. This was to call each leaving student individually to the stage in front of the whole school. He would shake their hand and wish them well. Simon was ready. He hated the principal.

Simon had a cream pie. He didn’t even try to hide it. It wasn’t a proper pie. It was simply whipped cream from a can sprayed into a silver foil dish.

The principal shook Simon’s hand. Simon turned to the audience and shouted, “This school sucks and you can all get stuffed.” He then pushed the cream pie into the principal’s face and left the stage (and the building).

Needless to say, Simon’s future at the school was no longer guaranteed!

That afternoon he got a letter from the workshop where he was to begin his apprenticeship: We seem to be missing a document. Would you mind supplying a written reference from your school?

564. Julliard Scholarship

© Bruce Goodman 27 April 2015


My son has just won a Julliard Scholarship to study piano in New York. I paid for him to go to New York at the end of his studies as a vacation and as a reward for doing well at school. Then he comes home having gone to an audition unbeknown to me. Anyway, he gets a letter saying he’s been accepted for a piano course and won a scholarship.

I’m not happy about it. I’ve four sons. I hoped at least one of them would follow my footsteps and take over the family business. But instead he wants to be a piano player. There’s no future in that, I told him. There are only a dozen or so decent piano players around the world and it’s a dead cert he wouldn’t be one of them. I always wanted him to learn guitar. That way he could play at parties and stuff. Nothing would make me more prouder. People like it a lot more than piano.

I’ve always insisted my kids learn a trade first. That way, they’ve got something to fall back on. So I’ve fixed him up as an apprentice at the local car mechanic’s. I’ve always been interested in cars and stuff, and even though it’s not the family business, it would be handy having a mechanic in the family to fix any vehicle that breaks down in my transport industry.

I told him if he wants to do any of that queer music shit he can do it after he’s finished his apprenticeship. I’m not working my guts out so someone can play honkey-tonk all day. There are more important things to spend money on, because even though he got a scholarship it’s still bloody costly.

I’ve four sons, as I said, and four daughters. The girls are all married off now; what a job that was. But this is the fourth son that’s wanted to go off and do his own thing. They say kids break their parents’ hearts more often than not. Well I’m certainly getting my share of it.

This one’s the youngest of the eight and the only one left that will have anything to do with me. Kids these days are so ungrateful.