A few days ago I saw a TV commercial for a "professional" refrigerator. The appliance was good-looking and expensive, but probably not intended for people who make their living storing lamb chops and manufacturing ice cubes.
Then I saw an ad for a GMC "Professional Grade" SUV. Is it intended for mommies who are paid to schlep their children to school, ballet lessons and soccer practice?
This rampant professionalism reminded me of an unpleasant experience I had at the end of the 20th century.
In the 1990s I lived in a townhouse
condominium in Westchester County, New York. I was one of the original
residents, and had moved there in 1978.
When the place was built, the builder, like
other builders, needed to establish rules and regulations. He apparently went
to an office supply store and paid a few bucks for an all-purpose document
written by a lawyer who never lived in our condominium, never knew the people
who would live there, and certainly had no idea how society would evolve over
the following decades.
One important way
that society did evolve was the emergence and popularity of the “home office.”
Once home offices
were limited to doctors, but by the mid-1990s, inexpensive computers and the
Internet enabled a wide range of occupations to be carried out in underwear or
pajamas, at any hour of the day or night.
Our condominium’s
bylaws specifically outlawed carrying out any occupation other than
“professional” activities on condominium property.
The attorney who
wrote the rule in 1970 knew what he had in mind, just as the folks who wrote
and approved that “…the right of the people to keep and bear arms, shall not be
infringed” in 1792 knew what they had in mind.
But in both cases,
there has been lots of disagreement and interpretation over the years,
selective prosecution, perhaps some persecution, and ample income opportunities
for attorneys.
In my condominium,
lots of occupational activities were carried out in apparent violation of the
rules. School teachers corrected exams and read term papers. Salespeople wrote
proposals. Bartenders mixed drinks. The ice cream man sold pops. Landscapers
planted, mowed and trimmed. Lifeguards guarded lives. Carpenters remodeled
kitchens. Doctors prescribed medication. Plumbers replaced water heaters. Cops
and insurance agents investigated burglaries. Our managing agent managed. Our
maintenance men maintained.
Lots of people —
residents, visitors and even employees of the condominium — worked there every
day in flagrant violation of the holy writ, and life went on just fine.
But one day, and I
don’t know why, the Board of Managers decided to sue me for violating the rules
against operating a “non-professional” business on the premises.
My main business at
the time was installing business phone systems. I installed them at the
premises of my customers. Many of them were in Manhattan, or in New Jersey, or
Long Island, or Connecticut — but certainly not in my own living room.
I made most of my
money outside the house, but I did have a few business visitors each month.
Some were salespeople showing me new products, and some were prospective customers,
and a couple were customers picking up phones.
I certainly had no
store. There was no showroom, no sign in the window, no bright lights, no
factory with loud noises or noxious odors that would have violated the bylaws
or zoning regulations. I had no employees. My business certainly drew less
traffic than a perfectly legal doctor or a 17-year-old girl.
The traditional
examples of permitted “professional” occupations, as envisioned by the ancient
unknown lawyer who wrote our rules, were doctors, dentists, architects, and —
of course — other lawyers. I had to prove to the judge that this group was much
too narrow, and an unrealistic interpretation for the late 20th
century.
I told the judge that
many occupations were widely recognized as professions, and deserved to be
included, starting most obviously and in
chronological order, with “the world’s oldest profession”— prostitution. Wasn’t
a hooker as worthy as a dentist?
I then told the court about professional wrestlers,
professional golfers, professional tennis players, professional musicians,
professional divers, professional gamblers and professional assassins.
I showed the judge a copy of Professional Boatbuilder magazine and Professional Hair Salon magazine, and
told him about magazines called Professional
Woman and Quilting Professional and Christian Professional.
I also told him about
the Professional Drivers Association and the Association of Professional Body
Piercers and I showed packages labeled “professional screwdriver,” “professional
duct tape,” and “professional toilet plunger.”
The judge ruled that
the term “professional” was now synonymous with “business,” and merely meant
the opposite of an amateur or non-business activity; and unless the condominium
rules were rewritten to include or exclude specific occupations, neither the
oldest profession, nor mine, were against the rules.
