TURNING 16 meant one thing in our house – getting a job.

Even as the date approached, my mother was scanning the paper for suitable positions and asking in shops and so on how one went about becoming employed there.

Thus, I became a shop assistant in a large chain store. I stayed there for three years, working occasional evenings and every weekend, in addition to studying for GCSEs, A-levels, participating in any number of school and other activities and holding down an active social life to boot.

I then moved to become a contract cleaner in some pretty grim situations. But it taught me the very great pleasure and reward that comes from honest labour.

My parents, both of whom worked full time all their lives and are now, as regular readers will know, bickering their way through retirement, never allowed me to shirk from the obligations of employment.

We all got up, got dressed, got out of the house, and put in as good an effort as possible while we were out there in the world of work, making our contribution to the turning of the planet in a similar manner to countless other billions of people.  

Thanks to the message communicated to me since my infancy, I understood that work paid for what I needed and, if I was lucky, wanted. Work – of no matter what form - provided the funding for the social excursions, and the extra-curricular experiences were also to aid my later securing of, hopefully, a decent job.

If I desired hair dye or CDs or whatever else it was, it was made plain that these had to be paid for – by me. And I learned the responsibility of money, how to spend it, save it and, most importantly, manage it, to prevent it from ever managing me.

My working class parents, both of whom came from nothing, never ever let me think that doing just that, nothing, was ever an option. I was never even introduced to the concept that, whilst I was fit and able, that my needs, my wants, or my future family would be funded by anyone else and I am very glad for it.

We are truly blessed to live in a country which helps those who cannot help themselves, and yet, it is hard not to be miffed occasionally at the unfairness of some people contributing and others not.

I am in no way inviting scorn by hammering those in need, but there are those around, including people I know personally, who for whatever reason just don’t feel the need to graft and save in order to play their part in the grander scheme.

Frankly, that’s not on.