Lots of Recession-Proof Careers Out There

By Bob Wire, 12-05-08

I got my latest IRA statement in the mail yesterday. Not surprisingly, it arrived postage due. In two years, it’s lost half its value. It’s a Roth IRA, apparently named after the actor Tim Roth, who stands up in his diner booth in Pulp Fiction and yells, “Everybody be cool, this is a rubbery!”

To be honest, it never was much of an IRA to being with. At its peak, it was enough money to take the family to Hawaii. But not enough to bring them back. Still, it was MY IRA. A small memento of my time spent working for the Man. Thanks to the Recession (the National Bureau of Economic Research announced Monday that we can start using a capital R), my retirement plans, like those of most red-meated Americans, have been severely altered. I extrapolated my current retirement savings to estimate just how much I’d have socked away in my adorable little IRA by retirement age, and I should have enough to live comfortably for the rest of my life. That is, if I choke on a prawn and die at my retirement party.

I’m not too worried about getting laid off or fired, as I’m self-employed (pantomime drinking from a bottle here). I did put myself on double secret probation last spring when I caught myself stealing office supplies from my studio downstairs. And of course there have been persistent rumors of sexual harassment and inappropriate touching, but so far I haven’t been caught, uh, red-handed.

But what about those of you who ARE able to work and play well with others? In the face of this potent Recession, what are your career options? I saw my friend Daniel in the Iron Horse a few weeks back, having lunch with some of his coworkers. Daniel and his lunch partners work in the financial sector. Oddly, a small rain cloud was hanging over their table. I stopped to say hi and asked Daniel how he was doing, and he gave me a wan smile and said, “Well, I have my health.” These guys all had the same look about them: like someone had replaced their Charmin with 60-grit sandpaper.

Still, there are plenty of career choices that are fairly recession-proof. Bartender, for example. Hell, business is booming for your average drink slinger. She’s seen it a hundred times: a victim of the shrinking economy receives his pink slip and severance check on a Friday morning, and his family doesn’t see him until Sunday night, when he comes crawling home at the end of his runner with a few wadded up dollar bills in his pocket, sporting a Dirty Sanchez, a partially-shaved head, and a softball trophy wedged up his ass.

Here’s a good suggestion: open up a pawn shop. The worse the economy gets, the better it is for pawn shops. As a musician, I love these joints. But the sad part of owning that business is watching all the desperate Americans bringing in their beloved valuables to sell off at a fraction of their worth so they can pay the rent or buy groceries for their families. They’re forced into it because they spent their final paycheck at a sports bar, arguing with a large man about whether or not softball is for pussies. It must be heart-wrenching for a pawn shop owner to watch these broken down people bring in their X-Box 360’s, their 50” plasma screens, their Blu-Ray disc players, their iPhones, their Sharper Image solar powered penis enlargers, and their robot vacuum cleaners. Yet, somehow these folks must find a way to muddle though without these essentials.

There are lots of great, recession-proof jobs. Weed procurement facilitator. Funeral director. Bus driver. Cop. School teacher. Teachers have been in a recession for about 60 years, so they don’t notice much of a difference. Parents keep churning out brats year after year, and the state keeps teachers’ salaries just above the poverty level. Cops? The worse the economy gets, the more fuzz we’ll need. What with all the home invasions, strong-arm robberies, and drunks running around with trophies up their asses, it’s all John Q. Law can do to keep up with crime. Maybe construction would be a good field to get into, as we’ll be needing more and bigger prisons.

The ultimate recession-proof job is still the all-time American anti-hero: the Hobo. There’s very little in the way of start-up costs. You’ll need a sturdy stick and a large bandana or scarf to hold all your worldly possessions. A crushed top hat, some beat leather shoes, a ratty two-button suit and a pocketful of cigar butts, and you’re ready to ride the rails, my friend! Imagine your economic night sweats evaporating away as you luxuriate around a barrel fire at a hobo jungle near the railyard. You’ll be swapping tales with your new best friends Stumpy Joe, Cincinnati Slim, and Paul O’Neill. It’ll be all the freedom and camaraderie you can handle as you pass around a short dog of muscatel, discussing literature and politics with your fellow bindlestiffs. Most of them will have wonderful stories to tell about their days as an investment banker.

So welcome to the suck, my friends. Prioritize your spending, keep your loved ones close, and get ready to punch another hole in that already-tight belt. I’ll see you at the bar.

[If you catch a boxcar with wi-fi, click onto NewWest.net/BobWire frequently for more uplifting cheer. Now beat it, ya lousy bum.]

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