D e s e r t E x p o s u r e
July
2008
Season in the Sun
Cool treats, swimming pools and baseball — three stories of "summer jobs" in southwest New Mexico.
By Jeff Berg
For the most part, summer never ends in this part of New Mexico, except that the calendar says so. This year, the summer solstice was on June 20, which is the first "official" day of the season, even though the thermometer has indicated otherwise since around Easter. So between now and the autumn equinox on Sept. 22, a number of things take place that might be considered seasonal — including work that elsewhere might be thought of as "summer jobs."
Here's how the summer shapes up for a few folks and their summer-y jobs:
Tanya Lilly and Chris Smart, Hawaiian Shave Ice
I met Tanya Lilly and Chris Smart when they were in Mesilla for the annual Cinco de Mayo celebration this spring. An amiable pair, they run a small business called Hawaiian Shave Ice, which is based in Tucson, but makes frequent forays into New Mexico for various events.
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You might say that shave-ice vendors
Chris Smart and Tanya Lilly have cool jobs. |
Lilly and Smart met in Hawaii, where they were both attending college. Upon graduation, they moved to Tucson, where most of Smart's family lives.
Lilly says that she and Smart have just begun their fifth year in the shave-ice trade. "The idea was conceived by Chris' mother, and we all work it. We are not a franchise — just a family-owned and -operated business," she explains. "We don't have any permanent location, preferring instead to vend just at fairs, festivals and special events. We travel a good bit, particularly in the months of June and September, and that is one of the perks of the business. Right now we confine our roaming to Arizona and New Mexico, but in the future we hope to branch out further."
When not on the road, the couple has also taken over his mother's accounting and tax business. "She passed it along to Chris, though she still works with us throughout the year," says Lilly. "Chris devotes most of his non-shave-ice time to that enterprise and I split my time between accounting and after-school education programs — when they get enough government funding to actually run."
Another perk of the shave-ice business is the flexible and mobile schedule. Lilly says, "It gives us a chance to travel to different areas, the freedom for leisure activities during the weekdays such as hiking and fishing, and its busy season fits into the schedule of our tax business perfectly — picking up when it dies off and tapering off when it begins to get hectic.
"We spend probably half of our season in New Mexico, and though most of our events are in the Las Cruces area we have a few other regulars in Silver City, Cliff, Aztec and Roswell," she goes on. "We are willing to give almost any special event a try, though we tend to focus on events that have entertainment of some kind. County fairs, music and wine festivals, ethnic festivals, holiday celebrations, we try them all."
As with most of us, high gasoline prices and recession have started to take a toll on the duo's chilly venture. Lilly says, "Business this year has been down a bit from prior years. We definitely notice the difference as people need to keep closer tabs on their finances and due to rising gas prices are forced to stay home and not travel long distances to go to events. The gas prices have hindered us a bit, too. It's increased our cost a good bit, which of course has meant that our income is lower. It also has forced us to spend more time at local or near-local events or else string several events in the same area together and not return to our home base between events."
So, just what is this treat that has been around for years? Tanya explains, "Shave Ice is Hawaiian, originating on the islands, and you can still find the original shave-ice stands there — one on the North Shore of Oahu and one in Hilo on the Big Island."
"Shave" is not a misspelling of "shaved" — the Hawaiian treat is indeed called "Shave Ice," no "d." The similar product found around the mainland is a sno-cone. The fundamental difference between Shave Ice and sno-cones is the consistency of the ice, Lilly says: "Shave Ice is actually 'shaved' with a razor blade so that the ice comes out in fine flakes very similar to powder snow. Sno-cones are ground or crushed and the resulting ice is very granular and the pieces are comparatively large.
"Across the US you can find different regional versions of similar products, but the only one I have found that comes close to 'Shave Ice' is 'Snow Cream.' This is found in the Midwest and East, and started when people would take snow and put cream and flavoring — usually honey or maple syrup — on it."
Lilly and Smart offer a wide selection of flavors that vary somewhat, but they usually have at least 14 at any given time.
"Usually two of them are sugar-free flavors," Lilly adds. "What most people don't realize is that flavors are regional. Depending on your location, you can go through one flavor or another that you wouldn't be able to give away anywhere else. Examples of this are Silver City and Vanilla, Roswell and Pickle Juice, and Las Cruces and Coconut. With the exceptions of the regional favorites, our most popular flavors tend to be the basics, Wild Cherry and Blue Raspberry. Older generations prefer the Wild Cherry and younger ones the Blue Raspberry — in no small part I think because they like walking around with blue lips and tongues."
Lilly and Smart have a local supplier of flavors in Tucson. Although they could blend their own shave-ice flavors, she says, "It is a very hot and time-consuming task and we avoid it if possible. We believe in quality, and hate to sell an inferior product, so among the distributors in Tucson we have done a taste test to see which flavors are the best from which supplier.
"It means that sometimes we pay a little more for our flavors, but the quality of flavor makes it worth it," Lilly adds. "We don't believe in selling a product that we, ourselves, won't enjoy eating. Both Chris and I find Strawberry to be our personal favorite, followed closely by Mango and Coconut."
Cool.
Amy Dent, Aquatics Supervisor
Although Amy Dent's job is year-round, it is of course during the summer when things get hot and swimming pools get crowded. And this year, things could hardly be hotter for Amy Dent, the aquatics supervisor for the city of Las Cruces. Dent, at the ripe old age of 25, is in charge of a growing program that includes responsibility for the city's three public pools, a number of water-related programs including swimming lessons, aquatic fitness classes, the 100 Mile Swim Club, and community classes including lifeguard training, first aid and CPR. As if that weren't enough, she also oversees the City of Las Cruces' grant-funded Summer Lunch Program.
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The water slide at Las Cruces' new
Laabs Pool requires two lifeguards to be assigned to it at all times. (Photo by Jeff Berg) |
As explained on the city Web site, "Each of the three City pools serves free, healthy lunches to children 18 and under throughout the summer. Aquatic staff is trained in food handling and nutrition and conducts the program at each site. This is an excellent way for staff to get to know local children as well as educate the public about nutrition at an early age."
So, what does Amy Dent do in her spare time?
"Right now, this is about all I have time for," she concedes.
Dent, a Tucson native who came to Las Cruces about two years ago, says that her interest in swimming started at a very early age. "I've been on swim teams since I was four," she says, adding that has gone by the wayside for now.
Dent supervises a staff of 45. She says that's not nearly enough, however, to keep up with the demand created in part by the opening of the brand-new Laabs Pool. Among other things the new pool offers a water slide, which requires two lifeguards assigned to it at all times — one at the top, and another at the bottom.
Even with those precautions, Dent and her staff had already performed an incredible 23 rescues during the first four weeks that the pool was open.
She notes the lack of swimming prowess among the pools' users, and that getting parents to monitor their kids is difficult, too.
"I could use 20 more people if I could have them," Dent says. She will need even more staff once the city's second new pool, a "twin" of Laabs, opens up on the northeast side of Las Cruces sometime in July. Laabs Pool can take up to 200 bathers, but Dent said that she would like to have her staffing at a 1/20 ratio.
Dent notes that the shortage in life guards and support staff has required some extra effort to accommodate the thonged throngs who have descended upon the new pool. Swimmers are required to sign in for open swimming before entering the pool. People line up well before the opening of the pool to be able to take a dip. This has resulted in additional headaches, as sunburn has become an issue for those waiting as well as those swimming.
Lap swimming for adults is far less hectic, and less restricted.
Another challenge is the need to call the police several times a day to have an officer come by and chase weirdoes and perverts from some nearby trees, where they hang out to watch the children and women who are trying to enjoy the pool. (Even though I received permission from several staffers beforehand, when shooting the pictures for this article I am quickly approached by another staffer, who inquires what I am doing on the deck of the pool with a camera.)
Dent is adamant that her staff continue to receive training, but is concerned because they are overworked. "The training never stops," she says, adding, "We are just looking for the best way to accommodate everyone."
Shortly after this interview was conducted, Amy Dent resigned as aquatics supervisor to take a less-stressful job at White Sands Missile Range. This was in part because of a lack of support from city officials who, according to other staffers I talked to, were not concerned about staffing shortages, long hours and poor morale. Of he other pool staff I talked to, all except one were also resigning. Two now-former lifeguards also spoke of their loyalty to Dent, who had rebuilt the aquatics program from scratch, with little support from supervisors or the city of Las Cruces human resources department. Said one staffer who is remaining, at least for now, "I'm not burned out yet, but they mistreated Amy and a lot of the other lifeguards."
Another young lifeguard, who was acting as the program supervisor for his last week of employment at the city, noted that when the staff tried to have meetings with management concerning a number of mounting safety issues at the pool, "the human resources representative laughed at me. I gave my notice on the spot."
Mike Isaacs, Gomez Baseball Academy
A relatively new summer business in Las Cruces is the Gomez Baseball Academy. It was founded in 2005 by Miguel and David Gomez of Las Cruces, brothers who are former high school and college players. Miguel is the coach of the Mayfield High School Trojans baseball squad, which has made the state playoffs in both years under his leadership.
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Swinging for the fences at a Gomez
Baseball Academy session. |
The Gomez brothers, along with a flurry of other coaches, all local talent, offer all manner of baseball training from private lessons to a two-day summer Big League Camp, which was held in mid-June for boys and girls ages 8-14.
One of the academy's volunteers, Mike Isaacs, acts as spokesman for the school. He notes how the Gomez brothers were able to get three former Major League players to Las Cruces for this year's camp, which is a separate activity from the clinics.
"Both David and Miguel have a tremendous network outside of Las Cruces and made contacts with others that led them to the former MLB players," Isaacs says. "This is the first time they have used MLB players in the camp — we hope it will become standard for us."
Participating major leaguers were: outfielder Rudy Law, who compiled a lifetime .271 batting average, not to mention 220 stolen bases while playing for the Los Angeles Dodgers, Chicago White Sox and Kansas City Royals; pitcher Bobby Castillo, who won 38 games over his nine-year big league career with the Dodgers and Minnesota Twins, and also pitched in the 1981 World Series against the Yankees; and outfielder Ken Landreaux, whose 10-year baseball livelihood took him to LA and Minnesota after first playing with the then-California Angels for two years. Lamdreaux was a teammate of Castillo in that same 1981 World Series, and batted a respectable .268 before retiring after the 1987 season. All three are now part of the Dodgers Community Relations team.
As a bonus, two current MLB scouts, Darrell Carrillo of the Colorado Rockies and Sam Chavez of the Florida Marlins, were also on hand to assist with the camp.
The Gomez academy prides itself on "old school" baseball, which certainly means they won't be instructing kids on how to select the best agent. Rather, they focus on the basics and the mental skills for the sport, allowing anyone with any degree of skill to participate.
It's hard not to ask Isaacs a couple of questions about professional baseball. When asked if he thinks Las Cruces is ready for its own minor-league affiliate, he quickly answers, "Yes, an independent-league team (similar to the El Paso Diablos — a team that plays in a league that has no major-league affiliations) or maybe a single-A team (low-level minor league, owned and/or operated by a major league team)."
And his prediction for this year's World Series?
"Angels and Diamondbacks — for sure!"
Nah. . . Red Sox versus Phillies.
Cold treats, swimming and especially baseball were always
present
in senior writer Jeff Berg's summers as a kid.
My Summer Jobs
By Jeff Berg
"There shall be eternal summer in the grateful heart."
— Celia Thaxter
It was my first job, at least the first one that brought me any pay. My mother had recently become the administrative assistant at the Barrington (Ill.) Park District. She helped to coordinate and supervise any number of programs and activities, including some of the activities of the public pools.
I was always hanging around the park anyway, whether it was to play Little League, to swim, to play on the new handball court, or to skip swimming lessons, because I was then totally inept at that activity.
But for some reason that is lost to memory, I was soon put to work, perhaps for a dollar an hour, probably less, as an occasional attendant for the men's locker room during the evening hours that the pool was open, 7-9:30 p.m., I believe.
There was a counter, but the "locker room" did not have actual lockers then. Swimmers stopped at the counter and received a handsomely designed mesh bag that had slots for shoes, and a sort of hanger thing put on a pole behind the counter, which allowed the user to hang a shirt without stuffing it into the bag. Each bag had a number sloppily stenciled upon it, and attached to the hanger was an elastic band with a round brass tag with the corresponding number stamped on it. The swimmer kept the band and tag, and handed the bag to the attendant.
I was 11 or 12 years old.
I loved the job. I loved the idea of earning my own keep at the time, a concept that now escapes me since I have to grovel for almost every dollar I earn. It introduced me to the working world.
Other summer jobs followed. My favorite by far was again at the park, where I helped coach the park district's baseball program, which was (and still is) called the Knothole League. I had played in Knothole, and it was designed as Baseball 101 for those too young for Little League. No one sat on the bench. Every kid on every team played every inning. Sometimes I would look out across the field and see a dozen outfielders. One of the coaches, usually one older than I, "pitched" to the players — a soft lob, but overhand with a hardball. When I had played, we used a batting tee, but actual pitching was a bit more practical, the thought went.
Scores always ended up in the double digits, 22-17, 18-5, and so on, but the kids and the parents loved it. It was gently competitive, but all teams ended up in the round-robin tournament called the Knothole World Series. This became a huge local event, and was played on the best field at the park, the one that had a scorers booth, complete with PA system and concession stand. The kids got their names "in print" on special scorecards that were given to everyone in the stands.
My fellow coaches were fun to work with; all were college age, so I thought it was really cool to be able to work with them.
I also got to hang around lifeguard Charlene Payne, whom I had a youthful crush on. Never mind that she was attending Yankton College in South Dakota, while I was about to enter 8th grade (although my wife now is nearly 10 years older than I. . . hmm. . .).
My mother continued to work at the park district, eventually retiring as program director, after having to give way, as she puts it, "to some young blonde chicky."
But the park started using more and more college students over the next few years, and my employment, which included brief stints as an unofficial lifeguard when the real lifeguards took a break or ran to the privy, soon ended.
Besides, Charlene moved on, never even knowing I was alive.
From there, my gainful summer employment found me doing a couple of odd jobs now and then, and finally ending up at the brand new McDonald's that was opening in Barrington.
You scoff. Well, at the time it was THE place to work for anyone attending my high school, but only for those who needed to work. The rich kids of Barrington (which I now call "Bah-rington") also scoffed. While they got to hang out in the parking lot of McDonald's, I and the other po' folk labored at making their cheeseburgers and chocolate shakes (which back then were the real thing, almost). But we had fun and we made money that we and/or our families needed.
I also hated being at our un-air conditioned home during the sultry summers in Illinois, so it was always much nicer to be working at the frigidly cool McDonald's.
My last summer job was with my Pa, the workaholic.
When I was 12, my parents divorced. It was a gleeful moment in my life, and took place, ironically, on Valentine's Day. Since then, my mother has carried some kind of odd burden of guilt, thinking that she deprived me of some kind of father figure who never was to begin with. Relax, Mom, I'm okay. Really! Just ask the warden! (Just kidding, mom.)
But part of the divorce settlement included "reasonable visitation," which my father interpreted as "slave labor."
Prior to my high-school years, this involved him picking me up on Saturday morning and hauling me down to the building he owned just off of downtown Chicago. His photo studios were housed on the first two floors; the other three floors were filled with various tenants renting space from him. He and his cousin, Ed, did most of the maintenance and remodeling, but on Saturdays, I was put to work as a gopher, wall painter, "hold this" boy, and of course janitor. I hated it. I hated every minute of it, and dreaded Saturdays except for the cheeseburger and greasy French fries lunch that I had every week at a corner diner owned by a nice Greek couple.
For my last two years of high school, happily, this job was replaced in the summer by a job I actually appreciated, and which usually meant I didn't have to be around dear old dad very much.
Photostats were the grandparent of present-day copy machines, and at least half of my dad's business came from Photostats. He also did a process called Kolorstats, which he once said he had a patent on, but I doubt if that was true.
To deliver the Photostats around downtown Chicago, a supply of foot messengers was needed, and who better to use for summer help than your son? Almost all of his other messengers were men who lived and hung out at what was then called "skid row" in Chicago, North Clark Street. Besotted by alcohol, these unfortunates were nonetheless quite reliable and made good workers. Certainly most of them made their rounds around the Loop with a hangover, but most of the time, they showed up and delivered my dad's wares in rain, snow and the godawful humidity of Illinois summers.
In particular, I remember one man, Ralph Kooi. Mr. Kooi always looked like he was completely out of it while sitting on a chair in the messenger area waiting for an assignment, but when a job was ready to go, he was always the first to grab it and go.
My second summer working as a messenger for Reliable Photocopy Service, I was, amazingly, able to talk Dad into hiring a friend as a messenger, although she was assigned to one of the satellite offices. Carol Watson was my first "gal pal," someone I just hung out with a lot, without any kind of romantic inclinations at all. (Although this might have been different, at least on my part, if she had not been an active member of the LDS church, which I was not.) Being with Carol was a delight, even if she was just a friend. Bright, witty and very into music, she and I had a nice summer working for Pop and taking the train home each night, since his work hours tended to last far into the night. He would pick us up in the morning for the 45-mile commute.
I learned a lot through those jobs. Some of it was fun, such as learning more about baseball, a sport I once adored, or having my first cooking experience of any kind. I also came understand that sometimes, such as in the case of Mr. Kooi, looks can be deceiving. Mr. Kooi rarely spoke or bathed, had one change of clothes (so it seemed) and always looked rough, but he was reliable and honest, which were traits that I was able to hone up on myself just by observation on my summer job.