Homestead Hill Farm: The Boss Explained

Today, I am going to share a secret with you. I guess it's more of an insight than a secret...

this big crane was spotted at the fair
I HAD to take a photo!

Since it is National BOSSES’ Day…I am finally going to reveal just why I call the Boss---the BOSS. I hope you’re not going to be disappointed, because I’m pretty sure it’s not what you think.

It has been suggested that it is “tongue-in-cheek”, that he really is NOT the boss in any way shape or form. Could it be that he’s really mean and oppressive and makes me call him that? Maybe I really wish he was Bruce Springsteen. Maybe he IS Bruce Springsteen. By calling him that it reveals that surely, I think all women must be subservient…and should kow-tow to their husbands’ every whim. It has even been suggested that the title has a more sinister meaning and he has some very shady connections and more than a little “influence”.

Interesting conjectures…but, well…in a word…NO.

…although Bruce Springsteen does figure into the story…a little.

When I first started blogging, I referred to my husband by his given name. But, that seemed kind of boring.I mean the other bloggers I read all had little nicknames for their spouses and family members. Some use what they call them in real life, some use initials, some use descriptive titles or acronyms. For instance, The Pioneer Woman refers to her husband as “Marlboro Man”…not because they are in the back pocket of Big Tobacco, or because he smokes like a furnace…no, she makes no pretense about it…she likes the way he looks in chaps.

But, I digress...

This story started a long time ago.

I was 17 when I finished high school and left home for a college where I knew no one. It was a major adjustment, and although I can’t say I did it well…I did do it. But, at some point, I figured out that the plans I had made weren’t working out like I thought they would and I came back home. By the time I met my future husband, I was 19 and had changed majors and schools…and was living at home again. My life vision was completely different and I was working full-time while going to school full-time, too.

I met the Boss when he came to cash his paycheck at the drive-thru window at the bank where I was employed as a teller. You can read about that story here. He is 8 years my senior, was working as a substation electrician at the local power company and had more than a little bit of life experience by the time we met. It was nice to have someone to grant guidance on the intricacies of life when whole “being a grown-up” thing got more than a little overwhelming. It seemed he knew everything. I admit…sometimes, that got to be a bit much…and on more than one occasion, I didn’t accept the guidance with a whole lot of grace and gratitude. (still don’t sometimes)

I guess I should note here that the Boss is just genetically pre-disposed to stating his opinion in no uncertain terms… to being bossy. He comes from a long line of out-spoken and opinionated people. I truly admire him for always saying exactly what he thinks, although that trait has gotten him into more than a little trouble throughout the years. (and not just with me)

At the time we were dating, Bruce Springsteen was making his grand entrance into the music world. As in his songs were on the radio all the time. When a DJ introduced him as the “Boss”, I turned to my fiancée and said…”Bruce Springsteen shouldn’t be called the BOSS…YOU should!” He thought it was funny and told his co-workers. Odd and random nick-names were just part of the workplace. They thought it was hilarious. As one of the crew leaders, his “boss” attitude was a just a given. It was more than a little amusing to call the office and ask one of them for the Boss. …and I think they were all a little jealous that the Boss got such treatment. (he still tells people I call him that…just to see their reaction)

I hadn’t referred to him as the Boss in years (until after I started blogging). He willingly gave up his “title” for what may have been the best Christmas present we ever gave.

Granny and Granddaddy - Christmas 1986

In my grandparents’ declining years, my grandfather decided that rather than move from their multi-story house, he would have an elevator installed. A crew was hired and work began. Granddaddy spent a lot of time “supervising” the job (read…talking their ears off) The work crew laughingly referred to him as the Boss, despite the fact that I’m certain he never gave a direct order in his entire life. At my Boss’ suggestion, we bought a white hard hat (like the supervisors wear) and some stick-on letters. It was made to say THE BOSS. And we gave it to Granddaddy for Christmas. My grandfather wore that hard hat throughout the construction phase, much to everyone’s amusement. That little act proved to me in part what a good guy the Boss really is.

As for being oppressed…or thinking women should be oppressed… Seriously? (you must not know me) …and NO, I do NOT think every woman should refer to her husband as THE BOSS. Nor does he. We’ll leave it to other folks to work out the intricacies of their own relationships.

As for insinuations that there is something sinister behind the nickname…sorry…nope, not that one either. The Boss is far too honest and outspoken to ever survive as some sort of gangster or underground thug.

In any organization/group/team/family… there has to be one person in charge…the one who has the final word. In our case, it works best for the Boss to be…well, the Boss. I’m perfectly content to have someone else take responsibility for the final decision. That doesn’t mean that my opinion isn’t considered and quite often acted upon. But, it does mean that we aren’t always fighting for dominance…so we can work together…as a team.

Ultimately, I call the Boss...THE BOSS...because he is the Boss. It's simply a statement of fact. No intrigue or mystery...no innuendo. It's just the way it is...a little outspoken...the unvarnished truth.... Kinda like the Boss himself.