This is one job that requires a good recipe.

Working the Gig economy.
I often read in the newspapers ideas for generating extra income by working various odd jobs. Working a gig. Driving an Ober, dog walking, online tutoring, picking up and delivering restaurant meals, etc. Often supported by downloaded smart phone apps or downloading Zoom on your laptop. There are hundreds of job ideas on the net.
But this gig idea is not new. It’s been going on ever since people needed extra cash. My dad and his father sometimes needed extra cash.
This goes back to the mid-1920s. Living and working in southern rural Oklahoma paid very little and the need to generate extra cash took some creativity with a little bit of risk. My dad being the oldest boy at age 15 and along with his father would ride their horses down into the nearby “Holler” or the deep woods where several of their neighbors had what was described as “Moonshine stills.” Stills more or less hidden away so government people would not easily find them.
None the less, there would be Bubbling gurgling kettles or stills of distilled whisky. Often called moonshine or hooch or southern comfort. Or whatever. There would be a Five- or ten-gallon copper or stainless still Boiling bots with copper coils processing corn or fruit mash and heated by wood fires. All heated, distilled and later cooled down then bottled into glass or ceramic jugs and sold to most anyone for cash. Which was not that easy because of the laws of prohibition back then against illicit spirits. But typifying the idea of an early depression era gig economy.
What did you use to do in order to earn extra cash? I collected empty glass Coke or Pepsi bottles and redeemed them for two-cents each at our local grocery store. Usually made enough money to purchase a Batman comic book, one Baby Ruth candy bar, and two Double-Bubble bubble gums. All accomplished on a Saturday morning.

Published by OkieMan

I come from a family who migrated from the parched red dirt Plaines of southern rural Oklahoma. Migrating to blue collar working class community of East Los Angeles. There is where I was born. I am Mr. Writermelon. I can only write what my grammar and spell checker allows. I am neither profound nor profane. Boy howdy! Send comment to:

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