E D I T O R ’ S N O T E
AMERICANWAY
DECEMBER 15 2008
10
the work interesting. It was
my various (and, um, eclectic)
bosses. Imean, some of the stuff
these folks said and did …well,
you’dneed tohear it tobelieve it.
I’m changing names, but all the
following stories are absolutely
true.
TherewasGeorge, my boss at
another magazine. George was
known for passing off overly bi-
zarre ideas as sheer brilliance.
Actually, George thought every-
thing he said and did was sheer
brilliance. One time, hewas tell-
ing us editors about his pet cat
back inNewHampshire.George
knew the
right
way to massage
his cat so that the cat became
docile and submissive. And he
was confident that if instructed
in the right manner, anyone
couldmassage a cat and achieve
a similar result.
“Adam, I want you to write a
story called ‘How to Massage a
Cat.’”
I laughed. It sounded like a
well-timed, funny joke.
“Seriously, I’ll tell you how to
do it, and you can practice on
your cat.”
“But, George, I don’t have a
cat.”
“Thenuse your friend’s cat.”
“I’m not close enough with
anyone that has a cat whereby I
can ask to borrow their cat so I
canpracticemy catmassage.”
“Adam, why are you making
thisdifficult?There’sadumpster
not more than 10 feet behind
this building. I’ve seen at least
four cats out there. Practice on
oneof them.”
I didn’t write the story. I also
quit that job.
There was LaMont, who told
me that when I wait on a table,
Imust find something to apolo-
gize for.
“What if I didn’t do anything
wrong?” I asked.
“Inevitably, you will, so you
might as well apologize before-
hand,” he said.
“Likewearingmymoonboots
inJuly in case itmight snow?”
“Well, that’s just ridiculous,
isn’t it, Adam?”
I suppose so, which is why
many patrons of Il Davide in
Pepper Pike, Ohio, received
some strange preemptive apolo-
gies fromme.
And there wasMike, my boss
at Record Town. He was just
weird— theonlyperson I’veever
met whose favorite band of all
time was Queensryche. I’m sure
there are some metalheads out
there who do still listen to “Jet
CityWoman,” but a record store
manager whose favorite band
was Queensryche? Isn’t that
like the editor of the
Wall Street
Journal
saying his favorite book
is
PottyTimewithElmo
?
I might just be crowing for
no reason. After all, these jobs
weren’t really
bad
, and neither
were the bosses. (Okay, George
was a bad boss.) This is subjec-
tive logic, after all. Using said
logic, I alsohappen tohavequite
a long listof jobs that I thankmy
lucky stars I haven’t had (don’t
worry, I won’t bore you by nam-
ing them all). And right around
the top of that list, or at least in
the top 10,wouldbeany job that
involvesworking on aBroadway
show.
All those people who love
Spamalot
and
The Producers
?
Theymost likelydon’t know that
it takes a ridiculous amount of
work, andall thosecreative types
together means confrontation.
But having read our behind-
I’ve had some interesting jobs over the years. The work wasn’t weird or
remarkable likewhat you seeon theDiscoveryChannel’s
DirtyJobs
.Well,
some of it was. I’ve been a caddie, a busboy, amaintenance hand, and a
waiter. I’ve hung drywall, peddledCDs at amusic store, sold jeans at JC-
Penney, bounced at a bar, andbartended at that same bar. Then there are
the various publications I’ve done turns on. But when I think about all
the hours of labor over the years, I realize that itwasn’t the job thatmade
Just inCase: IApologize
AdamPitluk
Editor
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.
the-scenes Broadway story on
Dr. Seuss’ How the Grinch Stole
Christmas!
The Musical
(on
page 54), lo and behold, I’ve
gained a newfound apprecia-
tion for Broadway. The grueling
number of hours the cast puts
into preparing for the show, the
design and development of the
sets, the intricatedetail that goes
into the costumes and makeup
— it’s all so very impressive (not
as impressive as a cat massage
butmore impressive than sitting
through
Cats
themusical). That
said, I still havenodesire to ever
workonaBroadway show, and it
stillmakesmy top 10 list of jobs
that Igive thanks forhavingnev-
er had. But I’ll actually go see a
production now. And I think I’ll
probably really like it. Just don’t
sit George anywhere near me.
And if the encore happens to be
Queensryche’s “SilentLucidity,” I
probablywouldn’t complain. Yet
if Ido, I apologize.
