Friday, July 20, 2018

Word: Tummler


  

tummler

[too m-ler]
noun
  1. a male entertainer, as formerly employed by resorts in the Catskill Mountains, who combined the duties of a comedian, activities director, and master of ceremonies to keep the guests amused throughout the day.
  2. any lively, prankish, or mischievous man.

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            Kyle made sure his footsteps made noise that was audible over the TV.  He did not want to startle his grandpa and cause something to fail in the old man.  He stood nearby, cradling his notebook and waiting for a commercial.
               “Grandpa?” He asked when one arrived.
               The old man looked at his grandson with a face like well worn leather.  “What is it?”
               “Um, I need some help with a homework assignment.  See, I’m supposed to find out about what jobs were like in the past.  I figured the best way to do that is to ask someone.  So I want you to tell me about your old job and what that was like.”
               “What class is this for?”
               “Home Ec.”
               “Home what?”
               “Home economics.  It teaches us about things like interest and taxes and how to keep track of money and stuff.”
               “Good.  Sounds like a good class.  Damn fine class.  Wish I had learned all that when I was your age.”  He said with an approving nod.  “Much better than some of that other stuff you’re learning.  I mean, who really needs to know how big circles are?  I say just use a damn measuring tape and you’ll be fine.”
               “Uh, grandpa?”
               “Hm?  Oh, right, right, right.  My job.  Let’s see.  I’ve had many jobs, so that’ll be tricky.”
               “Just use the one you had the longest.”
               Kyle sat on the couch next to his grandpa and got his notebook and pen ready.  His grandpa closed his eyes and Kyle thought the old man had fallen asleep.  But then he opened his eyes and began.
               “Let’s see.  The job I had the longest was with the old Cattamong Hotel, a few miles away from here.  Of course, it’s gone now, just like all those places.  Beautiful place, that hotel.  Great hiking trails all year long.  I started there in the 40’s, a few months after World War II ended.  I was pretty young back then, younger than you, certainly.  Didn’t know a damn thing. 
               “Started cleaning up after the guests.  It was hard work, the pay was trash, and frankly, I wasn’t very good at it.  I know, how hard can it be to clean up after people, right?  Plenty hard, that’s how.  People are slobs.  Always have been, always will be.  Funny how that works, isn’t it?  A man can be neat and clean in his own home, where he’ll be cleaning up all the messes, but the moment someone else is doing the cleaning, he becomes a filthy pig.”
               Kyle cleared his throat to get his grandpa back on track.
               “Oh, sorry, got carried away.  Now then, where was I?  Oh, right, cleaning.  Yes, I was a terrible cleaner.  But I was damned entertaining.  I knew how to keep people happy, and it wasn’t by making their room smell nice.  Now, I knew how to make people laugh.  It was easy back in those days.  You could say just about anything and nobody would get offended.  Everyone’s too sensitive these days, if you ask me. 
               But anyway, I was funny, and I knew how to talk to people.  My bosses saw that and gave me a promotion.  I moved up from the cleaning staff to the entertainment.  Now there was a job.  Good pay even for a newcomer like me, and people loved me a lot more than when I was just cleaning up after them.  And damn was I good at it.
               So good that I worked my way up to become a tummler.”
               “A what?”
               “A tummler.  Fancy way of saying the head of the entertainment department.  I did it all.  During the day, I was planning events for the guests, making sure there was always something to do no matter what your tastes were.  And at night, I was the show.  I was either introducing acts, or was an act myself, depending on who was available at the time.  And that was a damn fine job.  Damn fine.  Made good money, met fine people, and enjoyed life.  Hell, it’s how I met your grandma.  She was a guest that got swept up by my show that she decided to stay around.  And well, a few years later we were married.”
               “That was allowed back then?”
               “You could do a lot of things back then that you can’t do now.  You could drink and smoke all you wanted, long as you were old enough.  You could romance who you wanted and talk to who you wanted.  Long as you did your job right and didn’t embarrass anyone, nobody cared what you did.  At least, that’s how it was for me.  Don’t know about other places.  I’ve had a few jobs since then, but never as long as that hotel.  54 years, that’s how long I stayed there.  Would’ve been longer, if it hadn’t shut down.”
               Kyle worked to write everything down.  When he was done, he looked over what he had written.  He still needed some things to complete his assignment.
               “Okay, cool.  Do you think I can ask you a few more questions?”
               “Sure, sure.  Oh, but it’ll have to wait.  The show’s back on.”
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I could never do a job like this.  I'm not social enough.  In fact, to me, it sounds like one of the worst jobs I could do.  There's worse out there, but this is pretty bad for me.

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