Notes on Self-Employment

I spent my Monday morning deep in a reading trance, but one thought took hold as I read of the defeat of proposed constitutional reforms in Venezuela – one of them was for a six hour work day, a 36 hour week. How would such a thing impact our work-stressed hyper-materialistic society?

I can only speak from personal experience. I was once employed by others, and marched lockstep. I was at work by eight AM, home at five, dancing to the tune. The man who signs the paycheck also has influence over thoughts. It’s the Stockholm Syndrome – we come to share the views of our captor. I worked in the oil business, and was a Republican oil guy. My kids remind me now and then how strict I was in dictating to them – they could not watch certain shows (The Simpson’s, for one); we marched them off to church and enrolled them in Catholic schools. I was intent that they adopt the conservative’s mind-eye view on the world. I would not have wanted me for a parent.

What changed was my schedule. I became a self-employed CPA on April Fools’ Day, 1986. Slowly I began to notice something – I had time on my hands. A CPA’s life is fairly busy during tax season, but for the rest of the year you’ll see empty offices often staffed by clerical help. We do have time, and I unconsciously used my time to un-indoctrinate myself. I had some intellectual yearnings, and began to read – at first, the conservative stuff – books by right wingers and magazines from outfits like Heritage. It was very unsatisfying. I had political leanings too – enough of the hand-sitting! I went door-to-door for to-be Governor Stan Stephens in 1988, and proudly shook hands with old yellow-teeth himself, Conrad Burns, on election night that year. As he stood outside Republican headquarters smoking a cigarette, I could only think of the cat who swallowed the canary. Even as a Republican, I thought little of him.

But time is the enemy of the good citizen, and I was also going some non-doctrinaire meandering. I wandered into a minefield – two areas of American foreign policy, Cuba and Vietnam, that had been the dominant themes during my coming-to-awareness time in the 60’s. I had only seen the right-wing side – that’s all my school and parents ever let me see. I began to read about them, and trouble ensued. Much of what was available was pro forma, but there was subversive stuff out there too. I experienced some minor disorientation that would, over a period of two years, become complete loss of faith. I experienced something rare – a crumbling of my foundations. First a small leak, then stronger, until in the end I was without fortification.

Enough of that. Each to his own, everyone to safety. In retrospect, it was a coming-of-age that is life-shattering. I experienced true freedom of thought. Few do. I was lucky, and it started with the end of employment.

The point is this: I had time. I was able to pursue my interests. I could read in the morning (a habit I engage in to this day), and take little diversions during the day. In so doing, the patriot was unraveled.

I was lucky – damned lucky. I could explore with my mind. I wonder if that is what Chavez has in mind for Venezuelans – to give them time and education, to free them.

No wonder he is so feared.