Low-Paying Jobs for the Elite

Re Robert Kuttner’s “The New Elite: Living With Mom and Dad,” Column Left, June 25:

The phenomenon of rich kids being able to afford the desirable but low-paying entry-level jobs is not new, especially in the entertainment industry. When I moved to Los Angeles in 1976, I obtained hard-to-get jobs as an assistant engineer in the best recording studios in town. In both cases, the pay was minimum wage ($2.50/hour, $100/week) although we actually worked about 80 hours a week. Any time I asked for a raise, I was always shown a stack of resumes of people eager to take my place.

I was keenly aware back then that these jobs were ideal for Beverly Hills brats who could drive down from their plush mansions in Mommy’s BMW and use the “salary” as an extra allowance. For working stiffs like me, it was always a matter of juggling spare change and sharing apartments to make ends meet. The low pay was an industry standard, and never questioned.

From the experience and contacts, one could eventually parlay that foot-in-the-door job into a career in the music business (same for movies and TV). I didn’t stick it out. I opted to take a “regular” job for a decent salary, but I can’t say that I’ve never looked back. I can’t help think that this system of low pay subtly allows the privileged children of wealth the opportunities to enter the job chains in the media businesses, which, eventually, perpetuates their wealth once they have climbed into the positions of influence.

ERIC KALLINS

Los Angeles

Kuttner’s commentary reminded me of an incident a few years ago.

A fellow who had taken early retirement from a moderately paid public service job had accepted a one-month contract in my unit to augment his pension. One day we were talking about the new trend for adult children to move back in with their parents and he told me his 29-year-old son had recently returned home because he found it too difficult to pay his part of the rent on the house he’d been sharing with friends.

“Isn’t this pretty disruptive for you and your wife?” I asked. “Not really,” he replied. “When he was a teen-ager we cut a new door at the end of the hall so he could come and go without disturbing us and he tends to do that now. The only real problem is we have only a one-car garage. So,” he continued, “we reached an understanding before the boy returned that my Plymouth would get the garage and his Porsche would have to stay outside in the driveway.”

DENNIS BROWNE

Los Angeles