Job
(page 5)
Willie: You can't vote, ALF , you're not a citizen.
ALF: I'll apply for a green card.
Willie: That's only if you want a job.
ALF: Pass.
[pause]
ALF: I know, I'll marry Lynn. Become a citizen, vote, then drop her of like a hot potato.
Willie: ALF...
ALF: Sure it will be hard on her first. She'll cry, drink a little too much. Join with a bongo player named Waquine.
Willie: ALF.
ALF: You'd like Waquine, he doesn't like beets.
Willie: Neither you or Waquine may marry my daughter and you may not vote.
ALF: Fine. I have not voice in government, Waquine will get deported, and they'll make him eat beets.
Willie: How many cups of coffee have you had?
ALF: Forty. Why?
The youth need to be enabled to become job generators from job seekers.
When I was 16, I had a job on the cleaning crew at a local hospital. I wore a pink uniform and cleaned bathrooms and buffed the hallway linoleum. Oddly, I don't recall hating the job. I recall getting choked up at the end of the summer when I went to turn in my uniform and say goodbye to the ladies.
Radio was always a fun, geeky thing to be a fan of — the history of radio, where it is, and where it's going — but it was really also a pretty easy job.
I'd love to write a book and dabble in TV a little more — but only if it's right. I'm not going to go out there and beg anyone for a job.
I'm an actor. It's my job.
The most important social welfare program in America is a job.
All paid jobs absorb and degrade the mind.
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