Reality check on glam jobs

Tigi Ness says musicians often have another day job to pay the bills.

Musician

Music fuels many dreams of glamour and wealth but instant stardom is not common in New Zealand. Only a small percentage of musicians can live well off their music, says music veteran Tigi Ness, best known as one of the group, the Rastafarian 12 Tribes of Israel (and the father of Che Fu).

"Another job is common, especially once you have a family."

He doesn't live solely off his music but believes younger musos have a better chance of earning a living because of the potential global audience available through the internet.

While playing with the 12 Tribes, Tigi worked 9 to 5, then toured with the band in the weekends.

"You've got to get out and keep plugging at it. It is not an easy lifestyle but if you love it you keep at it."

He practises with his band Unity Pacific on Wednesday evenings and spends most other nights in his home studio writing and playing music. He can survive on five hours' sleep to have more time for his music.

The ideal day job doesn't exhaust you physically or mentally, says Tigi, who used to be a bridge building labourer in his earlier years.

Nowadays he works at Green Lane Hospital digitally archiving x-rays.

"I don't like archiving as much as making music, but that is how it is."

Forensics

Anyone expecting forensic science to lead into murky criminal investigation CSI-style is in for a shock - and not one involving criminals and psychopaths.

Douglas Elliot, ESR science leader and University of Auckland forensic science senior lecturer, says TV drama creates two major misconceptions. One is that forensic scientists are at the forefront of investigations, single-handedly solving crime. Forensic scientists are the backroom boys - Douglas spends hours in the laboratory and at the computer.

"The truth is we have nothing to do with suspects or complainants and no involvement in the legal side of the case other than occasionally giving evidence."

Courtroom-fraught dramas aren't common. Ten in every 100 cases reach the courts and require forensic evidence, says Douglas.

Secondly, things happen at impossibly high speed on TV.

"It is a long process. We get a new sample, enter it into the computer, take a sub sample, transfer that elsewhere, get a signing for the transfer etc," says Douglas, who has been in forensic science since 1988.

"If required at a crime scene, we work under the direction of the police. We supply the scientific evidence that helps them process the scene. We collect evidence: blood stains, fibres, hairs."

It is a great job for a scientist, says Douglas. But not for those wanting a CSI-style career.

Lawyer

Experienced criminal barrister Gary Gotlieb laughs when asked how much his lifestyle reflects that of TV lawyers.

"What you see on TV is a whole lot of sound bites and a person who looks like they have the case on a plate. Yet, in real life, you're working day and night at it."

The rule of thumb is that one day in court involves two days' preparation. And the paperwork is horrendous.

"Just this morning I got a 188-page police disclosure. I have to read it painstakingly to see if anything has been overlooked. Often reading job sheets will lead onto other things."

It is hard work, reiterates Gotlieb. And there is the nasty side, where lawyers get death threats and their children get stalked.

Aside from having an astute mind, a lawyer has to like people, he says.

"Some students don't realise that. But you need to be able build a rapport with your clients, who may be clinically insane or full of anger."

Criminal law is something you love or hate, he says.

"Some people find they can't stomach it - literally. You see them throwing up in the toilets. Yet for me, I still remember walking into a court for my first case and thinking 'wow, let the show begin'."

Flight attendant

Many young people think a flight-attendant career equates to travelling the world while gliding down a jumbo-jet aisle pushing the drinks trolley, looking glamorous.

But it isn't that easy, laughs Marnie Saywell, Air New Zealand long-haul flight attendant and inflight services co-ordinator.

"For starters, you need strong thighs to keep that cart on track."

While she loves her job, Marnie says it can be exhausting. Shifts can be extremely long and there is never any excuse for not looking fresh and cheerful.

"We may fly out to Los Angeles at 10pm, fly through the night and arrive in LA at 10am New Zealand time. It can be difficult being bright and cheerful at 5am."

Rosters mean you can't always be home on special occasions.

Working inflight involves more than providing food and drink with a smile, explains Marnie. You have to be an effective first-aider, coping with anything from vomiting babies to heart attacks. Then there are the drunk and disorderly.

"One glass of alcohol is the equivalent of two in the air, so customers get drunk quickly and we have to manage that without offending them and keeping the peace."

Safety issues also add an edge. "It is something we have recurring training for. It is always in the back of your mind."