Mike Rowe, the host of Dirty Jobs shown on Discovery Channel, knows what it’s like to castrate sheep with his teeth. He’s scraped out garbage cans for a living, on TV. He knows the smell of maggot farms and the aroma of dead animal skulls, but the worst smell he’s encountered, he will say, is “failure.”
The reality show, which explores what it’s like to do some of the world’s least desirable jobs, starts its fourth season this April, and we had a chance to pitch phone questions to Mike (who was on location doing some godforsaken activity, no doubt) before the start of the new season of Dirty Jobs.
He’s quick to point out that he’s not the “host” of the show, the way, say, Martha Stewart hosts Living or Tyra hosts her talk show. “I’m really not so much of a host as I am a guest. I’ll continue to be a guest on the show — an apprentice, really — who shows up at these places and tries his best to keep up and learns a few things and has a few laughs, and then goes home at the end of the day.”
Some reality TV hosts wrestle gators or chew into antelope marrow to sustain themselves in the wild. Mike Rowe shows that there’s dignity, curiosity, maybe even wonder in the less celebrated jobs out there. Not that he’d like to trade places; he’s happy to shine a light on what other people do.
“I grew up on a farm,” recalls Rowe. “My parents were fisherman and farmers, and most of the people in my family were tradesmen, and by the time I was 12, I had seen my grandfather do just about every kind of job there was… My grandfather built the house that I was born in, really, without a blueprint. He was a mechanic, carpenter, bricklayer, plumber, electrician, pipe fitter. He was just one of those guys who knew how to do all of that stuff, and I really didn’t get that gene… So what I wanted to be, once I decided I couldn’t do those things, was anything that got me away from that sort of life.”
He did opera, off-Broadway, and entertainment shows for 20 years, and found that “it’s ironic to have a hit in, you know, 100-some countries that’s about the very kinds of jobs that I originally started trying to get away from.”
PHILIPPINE STAR: Here’s a pitch for an episode of Dirty Jobs: How about you go in and clean up A.I.G. and all the toxic waste down on Wall Street?
MIKE ROWE: Some jobs, I’m afraid, are too hideous even for me. Thank you, but no. You won’t find me in lower Manhattan any time soon. I’d need to wrap my whole self in bubble pack and detergent. It’d just be too hideous. I’d rather clean up a crime scene.
Can you tell us what is the worst combination of jobs that you could ever imagine?
Honestly, my worst nightmare would be to do the same thing day in and day out over and over again. Some people seem to be okay with doing that, and I know a lot of people do that. But the reason I got into television in general was just I couldn’t be in a car. I couldn’t take the commute, and I couldn’t sit behind a desk. I’m just terrible at that, so once I got into this, I got all the variety that I wanted.
But I think I know what you’re asking. You’re saying, you know, of the jobs I’ve done, what would be the worst one to go back to over and over. That would probably be castrating sheep with my mouth, which is something that they still do in Colorado, the way they’ve done it for centuries. Yes, biting the testicles off of a sheep is something really that you do it once and you cross it off the list, you know, If I had to go back there multiple times, I think I’d probably have to reevaluate all my career choices.
Okay, if castrating sheep is not something you want to repeat, how about jobs that you don’t mind going back to again?
You know what? There are actually more than you think because, like I’ve said, we really try and have a good time on these jobs, and so many of the people that I run into, no matter what they’re doing, you know, the surprising thing about the show is realizing, in spite of what it looks like, how much fun people are having.
I’d go back to Hawaii to harvest taro any time. I had a ball doing it. It’s hard, backbreaking work, and you’re up to your waist in muddy water, but you’re also in paradise, and the people were great, so I had a good time doing that. I had a good time working on the railroad. You know, you’re outside. It’s physical. The guys I was working with were a lot of fun. I had a good time transplanting cacti in the desert out here, the Mohave in Phoenix. Hard work, but again, you’re outside, and you’re getting exercise, and you’re having a few laughs. It’s really all pretty good.
What kind of reaction do you get from people who watch the show?
A big guy jumped off the back of his truck, ran over to me, and picked me up one time. Just a giant bear hug, and he picked me up off the ground and hugged me, and thanked me. And I said, “What are you thanking me for?” And he said, “You’ve done four different stories so far about garbage men all over the country, and I’m just really grateful.” And I said, “Why?” And he said, “Because I’m getting more action than I ever have in my whole life.” And I said, “Really?” And he said, “Oh, yes. I’m getting laid like an egg,” and then he kissed me right on the forehead and jumped on the back of his truck and went about his day.
So, yes, you know, people buy me beers. Girls come up and they, you know, they want to take care of me, and they want to wipe the schmutz off of my face and garbage men kiss me on the head, so I’m having a very strange life.
What qualifies as a “dirty job” for you?
Well, for the purposes of the show, a good dirty job has to be one that obviously has some element of dirt or grime or crap or sweat or something that smells bad attached to it. It can also be dangerous. It can also be strenuous. It’s got to be something that the vast majority of people would look at and not want to do.
But the most important quality of a good dirty job is that it has to be something that needs to be done. Take — I don’t know — a road kill picker-upper for instance is a good example of a great dirty job because nobody wants to do it. Nobody really thinks about doing it, but if the people who picked up road kill all called in sick for a week, the interstate commerce, in the United States anyway, just the trucks that roll back and forth on the highways, would basically have to stop. That’s how many dead animals wind up in the roads here. So it’s not something anybody wants to do, but it’s really, really critical to be done.
How long do you and the crew stay at each worksite?
With only a few exceptions, we can do one job in one day, so we have three cameramen and one audio guy and one spare set of hands really, so it’s seven of us all together, and we will shoot from sunup to sundown, and that’ll usually be enough time to get an entire story.
Who decides which jobs you do, and how do you do the research about them?
For the first couple of years, all the research was done by a production company in LA. We had a couple of researchers, and they did most of the groundwork. Today, virtually every idea comes in from the viewers. I went on the air about two years ago and said at the end of the show, “Look, that’s it. We’re finished. I don’t have any more ideas. I’m old. I’m tired. You know, it’s been fun. If you want to see another season, you’re going to have to send in some ideas.”
And that’s when we just got hundreds of thousands of suggestions from viewers. So the show changed into almost a mission where we would get ideas, and then suddenly just decide, ”Look, let’s just hop on a plane, and let’s go meet this person who does this thing.”
What do you hope people will take away from watching the show?
First and foremost, I hope they have a good time. In the end, for all the big themes of the show, it’s just TV, and it ought to be fun. Nowadays, people are just looking to have a laugh, really, and maybe learn a little something. If we get them that far, then I would hope ultimately that they start to maybe think a little bit about the people who actually hold civilization together and do these kinds of jobs that make polite society possible for you and me. Also, it’d be nice if I got a raise, but beyond that, not much.
For this season, what is the worst job that you’ve done and why?
I think I just did it. I was up in the Great Lakes region of the United States, just south of Canada, and I was working on a lock in Lake Superior. It’s just a giant piece of infrastructure that allows big barges full of iron ore to go from Lake Superior down into Lake Huron and then down into the States. And it was 15 degrees below zero, and we were outdoors for two days, and we all got frostbitten, and it was just a cold, cold, hard, miserable day. That’s got to be up there.
I don’t know if it’s the worst but three weeks ago, I was with an animal control guy in West Hollywood, and we were removing skunks from walls of people who lived right there on Sunset Strip, like right in the heart of Hollywood. And it’s funny, you know, because the rules in LA are so strange, when you capture a skunk or a possum or a raccoon on someone’s private property, you have to fix the hole, for instance, that the animal might have crawled through to get into the house. But after you do that, you’re required by law to release the animal back on the same property. It’s insane, but that’s what they do, so I spent a couple of days catching skunks, getting sprayed by them, doing some basic carpentry repairs on the houses, and then releasing the skunks back on the same property. So that was a long couple of days, too.
Mike, forget about the desk job. I think anyone that has the nerve to handle skunk spray is cool in my book. I've always thought you were a little stinker...
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