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Note from the Editor:
This article was kindly written for the SDC by member @Doctor Alan.


In my working career, I’ve been ‘lucky’ enough to have over 30 jobs. I could say ‘Employment Positions’, but big words like this are usually reserved for resumes or CVs, if you like. I’ve ‘got the sack’ more times than I’ve left voluntarily, and since I retired in 2013, I’ve had a chance to work out why.

I am definitely not narcissistic – when I was younger, I suppose I was passably good-looking, but one doesn’t usually get a job because of one’s looks alone. You could say, ‘What about actors and models?’, and I’d simply remind you of a number of individuals who certainly don’t shine like a beacon in the good-look stakes, and yet they were – and are - much sought after as actresses and actors. They’re ‘good at their job’ – we believe the characters they portray. We’re all actors to a greater or lesser extent, whether we like it or not. We just have to be ‘good at our job’.



I need to digress for a moment. You might think 30 jobs in a 50-year career is a bit too many, but I reckon I always had a big problem. I’m ambitious. That’s good, you might say, but combine that with the ‘not suffering fools gladly’ character trait, and it’s a bit of a stumbling block. I reckon that if you don’t like somebody, unless you’re a pretty good actor (See? Acting does have a part to play!), somebody gets negative vibes from you.

Because I always wanted to be as good as my older ‘and cleverer’ brother, I pushed myself to get all sorts of qualifications. My father was a teacher after being in the Royal Air Force in ‘Communications’ in the War, and always had great faith in academic qualifications for himself and his children. Of course, if I’d been a bit more mature and not such a clown at school and beyond, I’d have got a BSc degree at 21 and gone on from there – but then, I wouldn’t have enjoyed my life nearly as much and almost definitely would not have met and married my beautiful wife.



So why did I get ‘the sack’ so often? Well, probably because I was in the wrong job, essentially. The first time it happened, I was pretty devastated. I was an electronics technician at a place called ‘Miles Electronics’ where we worked on the design of military aircraft simulators, and because of this, I had to sign the Official Secrets Act. I’d only been there a couple of weeks when I realised I'd forgotten my lunch. Not knowing any better, I cycled the 15-minute route to get it from home. When I got back to work, I was called into the Commander’s office and given my marching orders. I simply hadn’t realised I was not supposed to ‘leave the base’. I should have asked permission – that was all.



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