If nothing else, the steep and unexpected rise in
unemployment figures to 7.3% - comprising in large part the
young - should give us an indication that all is not well out
there in the jobs market.
I've heard tales of a number of young graduates,
the proud owners of honours degrees with three, four or five
years of tertiary education behind them, and debts the size
of a generous down-payment on a house, unable to find even
casual employment.
I've heard others about the difficulty school leavers and
students have had finding traditional summer jobs.
Disappointingly, I have heard, too, about some people who are
taking advantage of the situation.
I was talking to a friend the other day, about the usual
stuff: the job, the house, the weather, the Black Caps . . .
and, because we have this in common, the offspring.
He was saying how his son - incidentally a good lad, a bit
unworldly, bookish, but polite and conscientious - had lucked
into a job up north, part-time, mind, but better than
nothing.
So, he must be pleased, I said, to have at least one of them
relieving tension on the family budget.
And he said, yes and no.
Yes and no? Well, yes, he was delighted that his son, 18, was
out there in the work place learning about life, learning the
discipline required to earn a living, finding out a bit about
the value of money, how long on the minimum wage you have to
work to earn a dozen beers - and so on.
But?
He was a bit concerned about the employer.
Good people, apparently, but he was concerned and he wanted
advice.
The other morning, he said, about 4.30am, he had a call.
His son, drunk with exhaustion, had just got home, having
begun work at 9am the previous morning.
He had worked, on his feet, for 18 hours straight, with
barely a break.
He was having trouble thinking straight and more to the
point, could not unlock the door of his flat.
The key was a difficult fit, so this required patience and a
cool head, neither of which my friend's son possessed at that
moment.
Finally he had slumped on to the steps and tearfully rung
home.
After a calming conversation, the lad finally cracked the
lock, and stumbled off to bed.
