Phase 28: Working For The Weekend

Getting paid to do what you love. Isn't this what we all hope to be doing? For those of us who have been in the world of work, think back to the days when all the doors seemed open before you and the choices of what to do with your life seemed limitless.

Now crank the projector of time a bit, slowly now, not too fast. Take a few moments and reflect. What did you want to be? An Astronaut, a Doctor, a Race Car Drive, a Teacher, a Chef, a Carpenter, heaven forbid, a Rock Guitarist, a Painter, a Photographer, an Actor, a Dancer.

I believe that until you have experienced the sudden loss of a job, for whatever the reason, and you are left with huge spans of time in which to ponder these questions, you never really do, and in my case that has been an experience that has left me at times agonizing over past mistakes and choices, and at other times the experience has allowed me to re-awaken my creative energies and see new possibilities - even in the face of being middle age - possibilities that seem unfettered by the fact that I am almost fifty, possibilities that show me there is still much life to be lived, and that the personal pursuit of happiness will be tied to my ability to shape my life in such a way that my 'job' will open the doors to the kind of 'work' that I really want to be doing.

So, here I am, living in the work-world again, and more than ever I wake on Monday, already looking ahead to the weekend. Actually, to the next evening I can come home and get out to my studio, to pursue my artistic work. No, don't get me wrong. I really like this new job. It offers a nice combination of pay and daily challenges, more importantly it leave open the time I need to develop my art, to market my self and to work towards the time when I can support myself doing what I WANT to do instead of doing what I HAVE to do.

Things are happening. The energy is moving me in the direction I need to go. I am under no delusion that I will get there over night, but for the past 20 years I have in one regard wasted so much time in self-doubt, living in a world of compromise that has at many times pushed me nearly so far from what I want to do that it was nearly forgotten, nearly mothballed in my psyche, but yet in many ways has always been there, under the surface, waiting for me to come to my psychological senses and stand up, shake off  the shackles of indecision and move ahead.

As I have never intended to be rich or famous, but realize that it IS wholly possible for me to make a living, doing the creative things I want to do and spend what ever time is left to me pursuing things I love  rather than just pursuing a paycheck for the sake of a paycheck. No longer do I feel that I will spend the rest of my 'work-life' toiling just to make ends meet, doing work I don't enjoy making money for someone else.

Phase 27: "Hi Ho! Hi Ho! It's off to work I go!"

So, a new day and a new job dawns a few hours from now. Recently I have been thinking more and more about work. The whys, the wherefores, the meaning, the reasons we all do what we do and have begun to redraw the picture in my head.

Work - it is defined by each person. Each of us must decide how to balance our work lives, our family lives and out social lives so that we make ongoing strides to get to where we all want to be. My goals and plan is different than anyone else's yet, we share some over arching similarities.

Work will make up about a third of our time on this earth and as prepare to enter my 4th decade of work, I look at things a bit differently with each passing year.

Work is SUPPOSED to help you reach the goals you have set. Work is supposed to provide for the needs of your family. Work is supposed to provide for the expenses of your golden years.  That is the way it is supposed to be.

So, what are the answers? If I HAVE to work to the end, how can I change what and how I do it so that I can get the enjoyment out of work that I want? I think I need to continually redefine 'work' and to adjust my efforts to get to the point where I end up doing the kind of 'work' that has been newly defined.
Doing some research on the web, I found a good quote about work that I will use to pick apart a new plan...

A man at work, making something which he feels will exist because he is working at it and wills it, is exercising the energies of his mind and soul as well as of his body. 




This passage pretty much hits the nail on the head. Work, for some lucky people IS just this - the feeling that what you do matters beyond the simple doing, beyond (or besides) the pay check that comes in for the doing. In fact, this kind of work would be done even if it was being done for free. And to summarize, if you are happy in what you do, you will do it better, and that results in less stress about 'work' and a hopefully healthy life. But, I maintain, that for the majority of people, this is patently NOT what 'work' means in our real lives. For most (and myself included) work has simply become away to make money to pay bills. There is little real enjoyment, there are three things that we look forward to; the end of the day, the end of the week and the paycheck. If we can somehow force ourselves to get up and repeat the process every day, we have a good chance of meeting our needs.


Memory and imagination help him as he works. 


Here is where things get sticky, and here maybe a year or so ago is where I got both lazy, complacent and forgetful of what is expected, and more importantly respected by the employer. I had been at my previous position for nearly five years, and had become comfortable. Comfortable in my head thinking that I knew enough about my job, and was secure enough in my position in my company that I could expand my involvement in the company to encompass areas outside my 'job-description'. Unfortunately, my supervisor felt this was not the case. So, last winter, through a combination of lack of foresight of the changing demands of my job, and loss of perspective in the belief that I could become more than my job required, I was fired, in part for just what this quote says... having an imagination beyond my job. In fact I WAS enjoying immensely the expanding opportunities for creativity within my job, which, unbeknownst to me was perceived as 'lack-of-focus' on my 'job' and so out the door I went. Lesson learned, manage your expectations, keep an eye out for those around you who want to see you fail, work to improve your skills and never quit looking for the next opportunity.


Not only his own thoughts, but the thoughts of the men of past ages guide his hands; and, as part of the human race, he creates. 


Now that I have moved from one job to the next, what kind of perspective do these last few months give me? How can I put this in some kind of context that makes sense? I am now 48. I have a kid in college. I have been married for 21 years. I have another kid working his way way towards being a teen-ager. I have a handful of aging guy medical issues. I have watched elderly relatives pass away - and friends too. I have been through the emotional wringer over employment and finances. I have begun to look ahead and fear for many aspects of my future (whether realistic or not), so how can I ground myself through this within the context of work?
My father and grandfather were both carpenters - men who worked with their hands - men who knew the same kinds of struggles, men who raised kids and grandkids. Both these men set examples for me to follow, some good, and possibly some not so good, but overall they always did the best they could for their families. They provided not only the essentials, but more importantly the intangibles that you cannot quantify.
They were also creative men - they worked with wood, leather, beads, feathers and paint, and the pride that they took in their daily work was also present in their artistic efforts, even though they would not have considered themselves 'artists' - they were certainly not recognized as such. But through them, I learned much. By watching them I saw and learned the importance of giving full effort, of completing a project from beginning to end. Maybe this is also part of the reason that was so hard for me to give up and just quit when things got ugly this past winter and spring.
As I have noted in past posts, moving on has not been easy, in fact it has been horribly humiliating and difficult at times, but I struggle on. The experience has also changed the way I look at things. The experience has changed the way I look at my future; from work, to my art work, to my health to my family, all things that we go through in life and only casually glance at, at lest I was guilty of this, casually taking advantage of each day, never really connecting with the important elements, never really grasping the things that slip by each day.
I have learned that as corny as it is, so many things matter more than work, especially when the work you do offers little beyond a paycheck.
I have learned that many things matter more than I used to believe they did:
-the simple fact that I have a wife that has stuck with me through thick and thin
-two healthy good kids that offered us no more than the typical concerns as they grew up
-I really, really, REALLY need a handful of friends that will offer their honest opinion and a sympathetic ear -- both when we need them.
-it is just as important to take an afternoon walk as it is to cash a paycheck
-I need my dogs. They listen and love unconditionally when no one else seems to care.
-a hot cup of coffee with a good friend can keep me grounded
-the creation of art is much more important than I ever realized, for a whole host of reasons.
-I do not want to live my life in the pursuit of money for moneys sake -- especially if all the money is doing is allowing me to get by and not to get ahead, not even a little.


If we work thus we shall be men, and our days will be happy and eventful.
William Morris

Phase 26: "Should I Stay, or Should I go?" Transitional Experiences

Well, the 12th of October marked eight months since I lost my job. If you've been following my blog, you should understand that the experience for me has run the gamut from shock to confusion, into depression  and reconstruction, and out the other end to employment. All in all, not an experience I would recommend for anyone, but one that can lead to many revelations about ones' life and a better understanding of what is important in your life.

Stepping out of the abyss that is unemployment required that I shift my thinking in many ways, and finally in July (oddly on the 12th) I was finally hired after over 200 application filings, a dozen or so interviews and lots and lots of coffee and supportive conversation with friends. As odd as it seems this experience of reentry into the job-force has set me to continued thinking about the nature of work and how it fits into our lives. As I discovered during my unemployment time (Phase 8 or 9 I think) that the thing we define as 'work' fills a 40 hour a week hole in our week, that when missing leaves us worse than empty. Oddly enough, I have discovered that simply 'filling-the-hole' with another job, is just about as bad. So, the question for me has become.... "Should I stay or should I go?"

Borrowing from 'The Clash' .....

Darling you got to let me know
Should I stay or should I go?


Alright, I have been reemployed for a couple months now. I have made it through my initial training period, have a grasp of the basic skills required for the job, and have ventured out on my own for a few weeks now, testing the waters in a new profession. What I have discovered is this; the job I used to have required a totally different 'kind' of work that I am doing now. The new job is exhausting in it's own ways, has it's rewards, once I look past the pains and is something I think I cold manage for a while.

But, it is not a life-filling experience, not something I see myself doing for the next phase of my working life as I approach retirement. So, as I said in my last post, I am now always keeping my eye out for something else...if not for the 'fulfillment-factor', but for the 'insurance-factor' should this current job collapse underneath me. Always looking, always making contacts, trying to have a bit of control, a bit of choice in where I end up next.

If you say that you are mine
I'll be here till the end of time


In case you are not young enough to realize, or you are old enough that you just don't care any more, we are living in an employment economy that is build (in my opinion) on shifting sands and there is no one who really knows how to shore it up or when or where the next 'collapse' will occur. For me, gone are the days where someone graduates from high school or college, enters a job at 21 or 22 and works at the same place until they retire 30 or 40 years later - people my parents age were the last generation who lived in an employment economy like this.

What I have noticed is that there seems to be a broad, almost 20 year cycle (that I have lived through at least) where the economy seems to need to re-boot or re-tool itself in order to encompass larger changes in the work economy. Looking back at the late 80's, I had just graduated college, entered the work force and was trying to establish myself as a young professional -- then came the first collapse (for my generation) and I spent several years working multiple jobs simultaneously trying to fill that 40 hour a week hole and pay my bills ---- "Welcome to the real world.." was the mantra every time I would complain.

The next phase for me included marriage, a battle of cancer, our first child, a couple more job changes, transitioning from 'apartment living' to 'home ownership', another child, transition to more (seemingly) stable employment for one or two employers, a life-schedule regulated and built around work, school and home. It seemed that life would roll smoothly from there, but it never really does.

It's always tease tease tease
You're happy when I'm on my knees
One day is fine, and next is black


Another personal discovery for me as I get older, experience more aspects of life, is that is that there is a very fine line between future planning and crushing disappointment, and often times there is nothing that one can do to stave off being run-over by the train of life. As My study of martial arts tells, no matter how good your training, no matter how many hours you put in honing your skills, you cannot avoid the sucker-punches that get thrown your way. I, at least, have spent far too many hours trying to do just that, only to discover that what is more important than preparation is how you react.

One day your economic situation is fine - the next, the gears of your transmission collapse, or your refrigerator dies, or your plumbing bursts. Even worse, illness or death enter your life... Even when you know death is imminent due to disease, it makes no difference. Likewise, when those sudden losses of friends or loved ones happen, we are all forced to put on the brakes, cope with the present, reassess the future and figure out how to move on. None of this is easy.

The same can be said for hopes and dreams. It is interesting to me, again from watching others, there seem to be only two types of people when it comes to hopes and dreams. It will seem cliche' but there are those who continue to reach, seeing their goals clearly in front of them and have (somehow) figured out how to keep focus on this -- despite the crap that gets thrown in their path. Then there are those who, at one time or another, had wonderfully outlined plans, dreams, goals and such and somewhere along the way they simply let go, maybe not all at once it may take years and years but they give up with their vision of the future and simply drift along, working, working, working, until they reach retirement, and death.

I hope that I am the type of person who is somewhere in between. If I have gained anything from my recent job loss, it is that I had become complacent. Happy to continue on and on, enjoying my job, yes, but not really growing or finding any real reward - directly - from my 'job' - other aspects of being there, yes, but my involvement in these more creative aspects were not appreciated, and in the end contributed to me losing my job.

So if you want me off your back
Well come on and let me know
Should I Stay or should I go?

So, after all this reflection and new-found vision, here is the real kicker. I am in a dilemma that I have never found myself before. I am preparing to take a step I have never done before... I am leaving a job BECAUSE I WANT TO. The job I have now does what it is supposed to, it brings in a pay check, fills that 40+ hour hole in my week, is steady, reliable, and unlikely to disappear even in this economy. So, why, after being unemployed would I even CONSIDER giving up a very tame bird in the hand to chase down another one in the proverbial bush? Trust me I have spent many sleepless hours -- and day-dreamed-hours on the road of my current job considering this, weighing the pluses and minuses.

The conclusion I have come to is that I want some control over my work-life. My current job leaves little chance to control my work, and frankly I am tired of giving over, giving in, and watching myself give up again. I have had it with back-burnering-all my plans. The new job which I am approaching, while still in the 'traditional' arena, is structured so that I can put efforts into the things I enjoy and can redirect my efforts toward an outcome where I can spend increasing amounts of time doing what I LOVE to provide for my needs and weaning away from working just for money. I will proceed with a more positive outlook and refocused mission to get to where I want to be for the next period of my 'work-life'.

Should I stay or should I go now?
If I go there will be trouble
And if I stay it will be double
So come on and let me know

O.K. I have made my decision to leap from job to job with a refocused eye towards where I want to be. It will NOT be easy. It will take planning and hard work. I have done this before, but the difference is that in the past I spent too much time listening to dissenters than to my supporters. Some times the voices that guide us come from within, but as life progress and we build relationships, parent children and strive to meet their needs, other voices take precedence.... and not always the ones we should be listening to.

I admire individuals - no matter what the field they choose who have been able to listen to their own voice and have been able to progress at their own pace, getting to where THEY want their selves to be. Maybe because I see the future a bit differently now than I did 10, 15 or 20 years ago that the drive for 'work/professional' happiness is more important than ever. My wife and I have raised up and sent off our first child to college - a feat that I can't still believe. Our second child is working his way through the schooling process and has good role models to look up to, so we expect the same thing from him down the road.

I also, with each year, become more and more aware of my own mortality - not to be morbid, but - my biological father lived to be 60, his father to 72, my grandmother to 83. I just turned 48, and depending on the day, my body (or my wife) remind me that I am no longer a 22 year old college student - the methods of their doing so vary from day to day, but I have notice that the cabinet of prescription meds I take to stay alive seems to grow by one or two bottles a year. I don't like it, but when the alternative is a quick exit, I guess I will continue to take them and hope for the best.

So, give all this, who do I turn to? Who do I listen to? Who is there to give me the kind of encouragement I need to make this final employment/work transition? I have begun to listen to and take seriously the people who, for years have been trying their best to encourage my artistic endeavors. I seem more likely to listen to those voices than to the ones that try to keep me down, keep me tied to traditional work/money/bills routine. I actually look forward to this job change with relish, the chance to expand one area of my life and to close down another without (hopefully) too much agony along the way.

This indecision's bugging me...
Exactly whom I'm supposed to be...
Don't you know which clothes even fit me?

This verse hit me rather hard...as I was working in my studio the other night... My OLD job required, dress slacks, pressed shirts, a tie, and comfy indoor shoes... My current job - a company shirt (the same uniform each day) company slacks, work boots, base-ball cap. etc. I have come to the realization that the clothes that fit me best will be ones in which I can create. For a while, I will have to continue with the 'conformity-of-a-uniform' for a while with an eye to the day when I can - like Superman or Spiderman - peel off the clothes of the norm and live life best suited to my skills and desires!

Should I stay or should I go now?

Well, I am outta-here, on to the new job, on to the next step.

Phase 25: Laboring For What? Exactly?

I was sitting in my studio the other evening, working on a painting, when 'BWONG!', a message box pops up on my laptop screen... "Are you still writing your Unemployment/Employment Blog? I haven't seen anything in a while."

I had to stop and think. 'When WAS the last time I had written? Why has it been so long? Have I drifted so fully back into the 'traditional-workforce' that I no longer have the NEED to comment anymore? Does having a regular job mean I SHOULDN'T contribute to my blog anymore? Does anything I say now, have any relevant meaning to the experience of the unemployed, or newly re-employed? The more I thought about it, the more I realized that by continuing to comment I may accomplish several positive things, at least in my world.

THIS BLOG WILL FORCE ME TO BE CONSTANTLY AWARE OF THE FOLLOWING

1) In this economy, no job is as secure or as permanent as I may think. I could just as easily go in to work tomorrow and be let go after a few months as abruptly from my new job as I was dropped from my last job after five years.

2) The door of opportunity will NEVER open if I do not KNOCK! Loudly and repeatedly. I must continue to scour job placement resources for other chances to improve my lot. If I quit looking I will never find that 'perfect-job' (yeah, yeah, I know...it will probably not happen_

3) A 'job' is what I do to get by. Any position where I am doing something I don't WANT to do MUST be balanced with efforts to advanced opportunities towards what I DO WANT to do.

4) As an adult I have generally worked too hard for too little money for myself, doing things I don't enjoy, to either make money for OTHER people or to make OTHER peoples' lives easier.

The more look around me, I see this as an all too common trend in our society. We train and prepare for one career and life throws wrenches into the machines of hope we have built. When this happens we do what necessity demands - we compromise, we take what is given, wad up the anger and disappointment into that acerbic place deep inside, where it festers, sometimes for years, before it boils back to the surface. 

This frustration emerges (in my opinion). ONE, you can give up, bend up and take it until you retire and die - being miserable all along the way - I have seen this happen to many, many people. TWO, you can direct this frustration towards the point where you 'work' becomes your 'passion' and your passion and effort can finally pay your bills, AND make you happy.

Yes, yes, I fully recognize that many people DO in fact have jobs they LOVE and that those jobs provide for their economic and personal happiness. But, my experience has shown me that these people are the very smallest of percentages.

So where does that leave ME in all this? I walk the line...that percarious line  between the two, and I think being stuck in the middle is toughest of all. At some point in each day, I have to convince myself to stay on the line and look to the side of the work future that I WANT and not just to say 'The Heck With It.' give up, shut up, grab my gear, go with the flow, make the money, pay the bills, quit worrying about being happy or enjoying what I do, blah, blah, blah.

I have mentioned this to friends over cups of coffee, that I feel I was closer to doing what I want -- and making money doing it -- while I was unemployed! And that every day I continue working in the traditional-job, is making it that much tougher to walk the line and get to where I want to be.

Phase 24: Square Pegs & Round Holes

     I am nearly two months deep into my new job. Admittedly some of the pain and agony of being unemployed dims with each paycheck, each day I wake drearily to the alarm, each day I don the new uniform, each day I head out in the dark to tackle new challenges.
    I am the peg. 
    Unsure of what lies beyond the hole into which I must try to fit myself to. There is more to the circular opportunity that this job offers than meets the eye. So, there I stand, a square-pegged, fledgling trainee kicked out of the nest and on my own.
     The job is the hole.
     I don't seem to have a grasp on all the elements required to complete the tasks at hand. I seem to take for ever to do the simplest task. I feel I have to call for help far to often for me (which has ALWAYS been an issue). The days seem to stretch on forever, few are the days that don't stretch to twelve hours. And then I go home.
     I am still the peg, my home has become the circle.
     Being home is not very rewarding either. I am suddenly conscious of all the things that have been left un-done, or half completed when I switched from 'unemployed' to 'employed. My goal of finishing another quarter of house painting -- no time for that now. My goal of better tended gardens -- my roses are taken over by ivy, my lawn choked by weeds. The list goes on.
    Strive to  keep my square shape...
     More importantly my vision of advancing my art work to the point where it can sustain my economic needs seems also to be fading, I can see the edges of my block chipping away. The fire I had for the handful of artistic pursuits seems to be waning... Falling back into the 'crazy-old-idea' part of my mind, back to the the point where all crazy place go...
     The economic realities I face seem bent on making me quit trying to figure out how to put the square-peg of my creative and artistic desire into the circular hole of the world of work in which we live. No matter how hard I try, I can't seem to make it happen. The more I think about it, what really keeps me back from this is fear. Plain and simple fear that I may be even LESS employable-at the personal level as an artist than as a 'normal' employee at my new job. Fear - almost as bad as the first few weeks of joblessness - despite having a 'job' how will I get out from under some bills and old debts...
      Some days I dread the mail delivery. Most days I don't check the answering machine. It seems no matter how hard I work, the pile of bills never shrinks. I know my situation is not as dire as many, and that for the most part my situation is of my own doing.
      The Circle begins to wear down the Square.
 I go to work. I work to pay the bills. Not to be happy, not because I like what I do, not because the job takes advantage of my skills, not because it offers wonderful benefits to myself and my family. No. I work to pay the bills. Personally, I am sick of it. If the Gods grace me with good fortune I still have a good 20 years of work-life yet, before I get to pack it in for retirement. I am DETERMIND that I will not spend these years angry, pissed off, or unhappy. I don't have all the answers to be sure, but I intend to sort out how to get there, AND figure out how to stay above the economic waterline - it seems that is how I have always spent my working life to this point -  an inch or two in front of the 8-ball.
     How to keep being the peg I want to be?  
      Maybe part of my state of mind relates to the fact that at this point of my 'work-life' I had always imagined I would be comfortably working - somewhere - doing what I like, building the proverbial nest-egg for the golden years - well thanks to the events of this year, the nest is empty of eggs, and has been refilled with a fresh brood of fear-birds, waiting to push all the good out of the nest. I, with the obvious help of my wife, have sent our first kid off to college - a private one no less. For his part, he has done the academic work, put in the hours for his artistic auditions, but in the end my employment situation has aided him with financial aid... aid that will be lessened next year if I maintain this current job.
        Round holes and Circular struggles.
        Do you see the dilemma? Do you see the cycle that we live with, put up with in this work-world? I know that I for one, am really tired of it. Just so you don't think I want to lie around and to nothing (trust me, I was forced to do too much if that over the past 6 months). No, I just want my work life to be meaningful and fulfilling. Is that too much to ask? I have posed this question to other people and they look at me with a mixture of confusion and anger. "Why do YOU get to do something that make you HAPPY when the rest of us have to go to jobs we HATE?" Not wanting to be condescending, I just look back at them and say. "I don't know. Maybe the question should be, 'Why do you continue to work a job that makes you unhappy, that you don't like, that you hate.' " I don't claim to have the answers for anyone else (let alone myself) but I do know that while day-to-day I have too keep my eye on my immediate economic needs, it is just as vital that I keep my eye to what I would RATHER be doing and work towards that end.
      To do this will take as much work, time and energy as any other 'job' I have had over the years. To do this will take the support and love of family and friends.
     Finally, the legacy that I leave behind will -  in my case - not be a pile of money for my kids to fight over, but rather, I want my legacy to be an example of a man who works hard to meet the needs of his family, and does so while doing the things that he loves doing. I want the next 40 years (hopefylly) to be more about reshaping the hole to fit the peg, not the other way around!

Phase 23: Fa-fa-fa-fading away...yeah, yeah, yeah.

I'm not a song writer, but if I were that lyric would be in my song somewhere. Maybe nestled away in a chorus, or some where in verse two or three.

It kind of sums up where I'm at now.

The list of cliches is long, maybe some of them would be in the song too, you know the ones...

"One door closes, another one opens..."

"As long as you're makin' money, why worry about being happy..."

"It's not that bad, at least your're not in jail..."

As much as I hated being unemployed, the sudden journey back into the job market has been anything but rewarding, or smooth, or enjoyable.

The problem with taking this job, and for that matter for taking any job that does not allow me to do what I really want to do. My sojourn through unemployment peeled my psychological eye lids wide open. The experience allowed me to look at things I had ignored for the sake of work.

Family, friends and relationships suffer. I realized how much I had missed for the simple fact that I have to fill my day with work.

Things that matter get set aside - growing from pesky mole hills into insurmountable mounts of stuff to do. So, when do we do them....? Exactly, on the WEEKENDS. Those short 48 hour periods in which we try to cram all the things un-done from the previous week, and get them accomplished. The problem is, once again, there is little time for doing what we really love doing. What ever that is.
For some it is music, for some it is woodcarving, no matter because we are forced to work, everything else suffers.

The bigger picture, as I am discovering, is that most of us have chosen money over happiness - to The ISSUE is that we have become habitual 9-5 Zombies; get up, go to work, do the work, clock out, drive home, spend some time with the family, wait for the weekend. Wash, rise repeat.

Yes, yes, I KNOW already!!!! Insert cheesy lyrics...

"I've been working for the weekend..."
"Working, 9 to 5, It's just a way to make a living..."
"You can't always get what you want..."

I'd love nothing more than to walk in and say, "I'm done, see you later..."
But as a very wise person, "Never make an important decision when you are tired."

Tonight, I am simply that. Tired.

Maybe I'll be ready to add more later....

Phase 22: "Powdermilk Biscuits" - Do what needs to be done

So, what is there to write about in a blog on unemployment, once I have attained a job?  Would it make any sense to continue writing, or should I just quit and move on? Part of me says, "Sure, just stop the senseless blathering on already!". Yet, another part - the part that has me at the keyboard - says, "You should keep writing! You have a job, but are you happy?"


I think it's more about the biscuits... Powdermilk biscuits to be exact.


"Heavens they're tasty and expeditious..."

Work. Job. Career. Ar this point in life I should be a mid-career professional at SOMETHING, yes? I should, by societal standards be enjoying the tasty biscuits of my success. I should be at the mid-management phase of a job, which will be stable, and provide me steady income until I retire and enter the hopefully long walk of retirement. Instead I am transitioning, yet again to another job, so that I can pay the bills, after all I do have a son heading off to college in two days. I should be able to say, "Look at me. I have done it! I have made something of myself! See, look, this is what a normal adult has to show for 20 plus years after college."


"Made from whole wheat....by Norwegein bachelor farmers..."

But I don't really want anyone to look too closely. By most standards I have done most of the right things along the way; I graduated from high school and college. I got a job in the field that I was trained in. Pursued that until life begins to throw it's curves at me. I changed jobs, got married, changed jobs, got credit cards, got sick, paid bills, changed jobs, had kids, dealt with loss, changed jobs, paid bills, paid bills, paid bills, changed jobs... and so on. Some of life's changes we choose, some we just have to deal with, really, in that regard, I'm not that much different than anyone else I guess.

"...so you know they're not only good for you, but also pure, mostly..."


So at this point I should be looking ahead at the expected comforts of retirement - secure income, helping to provide for the needs of my children as they become parents, etc. Instead, if find myself in what seems like the same repeating loop. I have a 'job' that pays 'enough' to keep us just enough in front of the proverbial 8-ball, to pay the bills. But, I look around and see that though I have "been pure, mostly" I don't have enough to do the things parents are supposed to do - I can't pay for my kids college education, I can't take my kids on summer vacations, I can't buy my kid a car, I could go on but it gets depressing...

 "...which give shy persons the strength to get up and do what needs to be done..."

I believe the question that most often gets overlooked in all this is equally simple; "Do you LOVE what you do for a living?" The sad thing is that the statistics show that the answer to this question to nearly 8 out of 10 Americans is a resounding, NO! The longer I spent unemployed, and the longer I spend at this current job, the more I begin to see the insanity of this! I don't have all the answers about how to resolve this issue, but as I see my son going off to college I have made a pact with myself to NEVER suggest he get a 'regular-job' so he can 'pay the bills' or so he can 'be a regular person'. 

Personally, I think I made that mistake too many times. As P.T. Barnum has said, "There's a sucker born every minute." That is oh, so true. Very few people - no matter what their education level or job experience really have the strength to take the advice of those around us and then strike out on our own... Part of this is because we have been taught all our lives what it means to WORK, to do something that is deemed 'worthy' by the rest of the world. Very rarely do we listen to our hearts, our souls, and there fore we spend most of our WORK lives dreading what we do and looking forward to 'retirement' - that mystical time in the future when we can finally quit our 'jobs' and 'finally do what we love to do'. 


"... they're tasty and expeditious." 

Frankly, I'm sick and tired of this philosophy. One thing that being unemployed has taught me is that there is real, economic value to what I love to do, and I don't want to waste much more time, NOT doing it. 

Yet the dilemma is this... Here I am again, do I continue making biscuits, making them the same way all the time -  having taken a 'regular' job, to pay the bills, to build some kind of hope for the future - or dwo I slam my powdered hands on the table and say, "Damnit! I'm sick of biscuits! I want to make CAKE!" I I don't want to waste much more time making or doing things for someone else's profit.

Phase 21: 8 Seconds To Glory! Riding The Newjita!!!

One day, a few weeks ago, when I was unemployed, I watched some rodeo action. I remember thinking, "What a stupid ass thing to do!" I almost turned the channel, but much like watching a train-wreck, I just couldn't look away. I didn't understand why until I was on my drive home today, sitting in a construction related traffic jam, enjoying the hyper-sweet goodness of ice-cold sweet tea when it hit me. I was him, he was me, the wild bucking animal with the rope around it's nads was the Newjita. I had successfully baited it, captured it and for the past three weeks I have been trying to figure out how to stay on it - to complete the ride, stay on top of this thing for the full 8 seconds (as required for a 'successful' ride).

SECOND ONE: The Newjita has been penned up in the arena; loud noises, flashing lights, screaming crowds, this will be one difficult ride. Again, I must re-iterate that my experience being unemployed has not been as lengthy as others. Yet, for some weird reason, I am overtaken by the 'wooglies' (see Phase 12). I stand there, looking at this snarling beast. Its nostrils flare with uncertainty - trying to scare me. Its eyes burn with a flame designed to make me run away from this new challenge. It scrapes its hooves on the ground, sending out vibrations, almost on a seismic scale - trying to make me crawl back the 'security blanket' that my insular world of unemployment had created...

SECOND TWO: Then I realized... I'm the Rider! Assessing my situation; boots-check, chaps-check, jeans, shirt, gloves-check, check, check. I climb up the side of the pen. I am wearing a new uniform, attempting a new ride on a Newjita that I have never seen before. As I straddle the corner of the pen, I wonder... "Am I worthy? Did I prepare well enough? Do I have the right skills? Do I really WANT this?" I grab the lifeline and wrap it around my pinkie. I think I'm ready. I nod to the gate man, "I'm ready!"...


SECOND THREE: In the world of rodeo, once the gate is open, there is no going back! So, three weeks ago I opened the gate and started my ride. Since I've been unemployed for a while, I'm not used to the demands and I realize that getting a grip on this world can be as difficult as holding on to the rope when  the Newjita breaks free and takes you along for the ride. If you watch rodeo at full speed, you hardly notice all the 'work' that goes on during this intense experience, of riding into the world of employment. Like the rider, I don't have much time to think. I have to react quickly, to the moves of the new beast I am trying to tame. Like the rider, I try to relax, get in synch with the beast...

SECOND FOUR: Oblivious to those around me; family, friends, neighbors, my world has suddenly changed. Indeed, I find myself in a slow motion reality. One day I am sleeping late and getting things done around the house, the next I am dragging myself out of bed at 5:00 in the morning, getting dressed, packing a lunch, charting a new course to a new beginning. Yet, like the rider, I am in slow motion, adjusting my grip on the lifeline, spurring the animal, trying to gain some kind of control over the new situation. It's hard. It is really, really hard. The 'crowd' doesn't get it. Not really. They watch and cheer, but for what? The new job is manageable - the Newjita is rideable. I start to get back some of the confidence I had before...

SECOND FIVE: The ride has proved bumpy, but I'm adjusting to the rhythm, the Newjita not making it too easy on me. Like the rider dealing with arena dust rising, sweat from the animal getting in his eyes, making it hard to focus. So to, I discover that the new job has challenges; its been a while since I worked out all day, in the elements, doing things I'm not familiar with... I hope I can hold on... At this point in the ride, it seems like 8 seconds is forever. I feel that way too. I'm 'in training' trying to do the right things to be granted 'full-employment'. The rider feels his grip loosening. Even through the noise and dust, he feels the creak of the sweat-dampened leather as it begins to slip. My training has these moments. "Damn, this is IMPOSSIBLE!", "What WAS I thinking?", "I can't DO this!", "My God. What if I fail at  THIS too?"...

SECOND SIX: At this point in the ride, it can go either way; the cowboy can hold on and get the victory, or the animal can pull that one unexpected move, the one that hasn't been accounted for in all the practice, and throw the rider off - to defeat, another hard landing in the dirt. As I near the end of my training period, I too am nearly to the point where I will be put out there, on my own, doing the job, un-assisted. Don't get me wrong, I am sure I can DO the work, but there is a part of me -- the few wooglies left inside -- that simply want to go back, back to the world of unemployment. Because... it was... easier. Somehow simpler. Somehow I was becoming USED to that world. That limbo-slow motion world, the world of uncertainty, that almost comforting feeling of the unknown. Now I have a job, I must keep a grip on it, a tight grip, finish the ride, tame the Newjita... The clock clicks on, it's movements even slower now....

SECOND SEVEN: The Newjita shifts. I feel his mighty muscles twitching underneath my grip, trying to throw me, trying to embarss me in front of the crowd. I approach each day of this new experience, fully aware of the fact that I am in control, for a change. I can make this work or I can give up, and go back... NO! I cannot do that. I have worked too long these last months, reworking resume, cover letter and wardrobe. I got a hair-cut for God's sake. I jumped through all the hoops of applications, letter writing and interviews. NO! I tighten the grip, and dig in my spurs, doing my best to move the beast in a direction that I control...

SECOND EIGHT: As the last second of the ride begins, I can see the end of the ride, the point at which I can release the lifeline, dismount and face the beast. I will be able to do the same with my ride through the unemployment experience. I will be able to look the Newjita in the eye -- at least for a moment and show HIM 'victory', show HIM what a 'winner' looks like. But only for a second. Like the rider, I know I am still vulnerable to the beast, so I look for the nearest barrel to dive into for safety -- and let the clowns distract the animal, force him down the shoot, where he will be confined again to the depths of my psyche -- where I hope to keep him.

No job is perfect, but having one to go to, does fill in many of those gaps I mentioned in earlier phases. The ones filled by 'work' that give us meaning, that shape who we are - to each other, to our families, to the world.

But, standing there, like the rider, dusting off his chaps after the ride. You can see he is sore. You can see that this hasn't REALLY been fun, but work, in and of itself. He knows - as I do - that in order to be successful, you have to be willing to get back in the pen, straddle the beast and ride gain. We can only HOPE that the time between the rides of 'unemployment' are long enough that we can recover and re-invent ourselves...

...for one more ride.

Phase 20: Suddenly RE-Employed: Or, "Why Do I Feel So Strange?"

Well, it happened. Five months and seven days. 212 applications, nine first interviews, three second interviews and I am now employed again...

Thankfully,
Suddenly,
Finally,

I have re-connected with the working world. I can wake up in the morning, knowing that I have a new 'purpose', a new 'reason for being', I am 'worthy' again...

But, wait a minute... I have spent the time since losing my job trying to process the whole meaning of work. From the pain of losing a job, to the empty feeling not having anything to fill the void that a job usually does, to questioning my worth as a person because I didn't have work. These reflections, and the associated time free from the confines of the 'work-day' allowed me to examine many areas of my life and to really study how 'work' fits into the overall picture.

So, now, I begin afresh, I am embarking on a new adventure into the world of employment. I have taken the advice of friends and will continue my blog and change my focus a bit to encompass the whole notion of 'work' and the role it plays in our lives.

I have several goals and motives behind this new series of posts. Some relate to my on-going personal travels through the world of work, others I hope, will serve as examples to those who may be soon entering this mysterious world for the first time (read, high school or college grads!) to those who are re-entering the work force in new positions that may be unfamiliar or where they feel they may not quite fit in, given the variety of life experience we all bring to the table as employees.

As I prepared for the first day of my new job, my MP3 player was shuffling through songs and it hit on a Beatles classic, and I stopped, shampoo stinging my eyes as I and listened to the lyrics...

Woke up, fell out of bed,


Well, I didn't quite FALL out of bed, it was more like trying to pull myself off of one of those velcro-walls. Remember, for the past five months, I have had little NEED to get up early... I look at the clock - can't see it of course without my glasses - fumbling around, finding them, I refocus on the clock. "Christ, 5:15 A.M. ... What am I THINKING!?" Sitting up, trying to wrap my sleepy mind around what will become my new schedule - Getting up before the roosters. Am I INSANE for taking this job? Do I really NEED to work THAT bad? Duh, yes. I have been without a paycheck for almost half a year, living off a slowly dwindling pension from my previous job. I have bills to pay and a kid headed to private college in less than a month. Of COURSE I need the work. Standing up, in the dark cursing at all the stuff I trip on as I head to the shower.

Dragged a comb across my head


Cleaned and dressed with a quiet house I take a few moments to assess what the new job entails. A drastic change in my 'work-day' from the last months of the 'non-work-day'. Funny that. When I was out of work, many thought that I was NOT working. Nothing could be further from the truth. Besides the work involved in a job hunt (see Phases 4, 10, 15), I was able to get to many of the things we put off on a day to day basis -- because of our 'jobs'. So, now a couple of weeks into the training period for my new job, I find that there are changes -- again, ones that I have suddenly noticed.

Found my way downstairs and drank a cup,


In what is ends up being the only cool, quiet time of my work day - between 5 and 6 A.M., I get a few moments to sit on the back porch with a cup of hot coffee, watching the dogs chase whatever mysteries nature has seen fit to place in the back yard overnight, I consider how things are changing, and to be honest, I am not really happy about many of them.

With my day starting with the trek to work at 6:00 A.M., my work done in the heat of the day - hot attic spaces, cramped crawl spaces, attacks by squadrons of hornets, travel in vehicles without air conditioning. I return most nights around 6:00 in the evening, exhausted. Too tired to do much more than shower, eat a little dinner and hit the bed by 11:00 or earlier.


I think what bothers me is that during the last few weeks I had begun to get into a 'routine' of being unemployed. I know it doesn't make much sense, but looking back, I had filled the 'work-day' with other activities, that many would consider a waste of time, my artwork for example. With time to spare, during the day I had begun to make a push towards making my artwork pay as much as a 'regular job'. I had even begun to make bigger plans than ever before. I feel I was really ready to turn a corner, and then, WHAM !! I land a job. I got a job and was not sure that I wanted one. Now, please don't read into this that I am not happy to HAVE a job, to help pay the bills, etc., but a big part of my being didn't WANT one, does that make sense? I was finally on the road to making money doing something I LOVE doing and in a couple short weeks, I am seeing this vision fade, again, as I give in to the 'real-world' employment.

And looking up I noticed I was late.


Awake, check. 
Showered and dressed, check. 
Breakfast and coffee, check. 
Time with the dogs, check.
Crap, I am forgetting something......
... Yes, I need to make a lunch. 
Where's that dang lunch box?
How come there's no lunch food left in the fridges.
I look at the clock. No more time, I gotta go...


Found my coat and grabbed my hat
Made the bus in seconds flat


Well, not the bus, but zooming along in the early dawn, the drive to my new job is not that bad. NPR on the radio, coffee in the mug beside me, all crisp and clean and eager to get working. A new job, a new day, a new phase of my life, yet I can't shake the feeling that some how this is wrong..... It's the Wooglies again (see Phase 12). They have taken over, again. This time they make me feel almost like a  coin-flipping schizophrenic as I drive along the way. In my head the Wooglies fuel my confusion, 
"God, it's great to have a job! I am finally whole again!" the leaf-turing Wooglies say.
"What? You're pathetic! Your a sell out! Going back to the old routine!" the recently unearthed artistic wooglies reply.
"But, I have bills to pay, and I can do this work!", the leaf-turners continue.
"You're not gonna be happy! We have seen this pattern before. WHY are you such a wimp?" reply the artistic ones.
I pull into the parking lot of my new employer, "Jeezus! Would you two shut the hell up and leave me alone!" I shout to them - to no one in particular, except my self.
I park, grab my thermos, lunch box and a pen, ready for day one of my new job.
  
Found my way upstairs and had a smoke,


The first few hours of my new job reveal many things. First of all, I do NOT smoke. Seemingly I am the ONLY one of my three other 'trainees' that does not. Along with this, it seems that all the the other employees I work with DO smoke. As I have discovered, smoking occupies much of their time (more on that later). So, the first day of training goes on; pages and pages of paperwork, recitation of company policy and rules, introductions around the table of my fellow trainees. Interruption seems the norm in our first day, from employees consulting our instructor, our instructor sharing 'on-the-job-anecdotes', power-point presentations on company history, and perusal of the 'Training Manual', cigarette breaks, coffee breaks and before we know it, the day is over.


Somebody spoke and I went into a dream


Driving home was a different experience than getting to work! Let's just summarize it by saying two words; road construction. I think no matter where you live it seems that the population explosion of orange barrels has the ability to turn any drive into a pressure cooker, both of temperature and emotions. Even though my first day of work was relatively peaceful - indoors, in the air conditioning, not too taxing, the drive home set me to thinking of my new situation, as a way to keep from going into a fit of heat/construction induced road rage.

Calm, down, take big drink of the Slurpee, relax.......

So, I'm employed again, I have a job. I have meaning and purpose to my life. I am part of the 'good society'. I am productive. I provide for my family. I can help pay the bills. I get up, I go to work, do my job, drive home, eat, try to spend time with the family, go to bed early, fall asleep. I can dream now, but they are fitful ones.

They involve me on some kind of raft, drifting away from something, not towards anything, but, fading away, in the distance, once again, a small part of my dream of making art for a living. A dream that had started to emerge from the fog of my life. I reached for it, really hard this time. But at least for now, due to the immediate economic needs, that seem to be only met by 'traditional employment' they drift further away, again. They are clearer and nearer than ever before.

The next part of life's journey will be to figure out how to do both, with a strong eye on my goals, while still making ends meet.

If anything at all has come from this experience it is that HOPE is REAL, and that AMBITION does not have to give way to NECESSITY. The challenge is to figure out how to do what I love and get paid for doing it.

Now, THAT would be a JOB I could live with for a while.

Phase 19: Coffee break's over - Time to get back to work.

     Well, I find myself in a weird transitional time here. I've been given a bout a week to transition between the world of unemployment that I have been in for the last five months, to the world of 'traditional employment'. I define 'traditional employment' as any paying gig that occupies the 8 hour hole that we define as work.
     Having had plenty of time to think about this whole notion that we 'work', I have come to some new definitions and some new conclusions.
     Life, is basically divided into three periods; Education, Work and Retirement. I know this is a very 'Western' view of life and that people in other places may look at this cycle differently. But since this is where we live, let's go with it.
     I'm pretty sure that my first category is true no matter what society one is born into. We are born, nurtured by parents, taught by elders and prepared for adult life, to become productive citizens who can provide for our families, and through our work, secure comfort in our later years. Seems pretty simple, eh? Well, as we know it's a wee bit more complicated than that.
     The Work part is not quite so easy to define or understand. Even in the most remote societies, people are expected to contribute to the community, those that don't are often culled from the group, left as outsiders either living off the fringes of the larger group - legally or illegally. Part of the problem in more modern times is that we define those who are either unemployed or who don't work within the framework of what the collective views as 'traditional employment' as outcasts, almost untouchables - to use the term from Indian caste society.
     Busy with making our own ends meet, we, my self included in past times, look past these people, shaking our heads, shrugging our shoulders, and, if we are smart, we thank our lucky stars that 'we' have not become one of 'them'. But as I have found, as a result of the current economy, the line between 'us' and 'them' is precariously thin. I used to joke about it, but some one once told me, "Most people are two paychecks away from poverty." Not to be too over dramatic, but I found that in my case, it was not too far from the truth. Had I not had a decent sized pension fun to cash in, we may not have made it this far. I can now fully understand what it means to be on the edge of disaster. If this period of unemployment had stretched too much longer, we would have been in a bad way.
      So, while I looked FOR work, I began watching people AT work. An interesting experience, but not one I would recommend for the casual observer. As I have mentioned before (Phases 2, 5, 10) not having a 'job' leaves serious practical and emotional gaps in our lives. As adults in American society, like it or not, we are defined by what we 'do', and doing nothing - as in being unemployed is unacceptable.
     I watched my wife and others get up, do the morning thing, go off to their job, while those of use without work, do nearly the polar opposite. The stress of this process has been evident in my posts, though usually couched in humor, believe me the stress of being jobless has been difficult to handle at times. Thankfully, I, unlike many, have been blessed with family and friends who helped get me through the toughest days, and I would be remiss if I did not give them proper thanks - thank you one and all.
     In my discussions and observations of both the employed and unemployed I have found some interesting peculiarities.
     First, most people that ARE employed, don't like their job. The reason they keep on keeping on is very, very, simple - it provides a paycheck, and without a paycheck things get very, ugly, very fast.
     Second, for the unemployed, their mental state depends on the length of unemployment. No, big surprise there but there seems to be a cycle that develops; shock, blame, relief, pursuit. The number of times an unemployed person goes through this, I believe, more it drags on your very spirit - these are the people that become the 'long-term' unemployed, those that have given up even trying to re-enter the 'traditional workforce' and I can understand much better than I did before.
     Third, and this is the one I cannot figure out, for many who have lost their jobs, when the enter the 'pursuit' phase I see them trying (at least initially) to find employment doing something that they 'like to do, something they have always dreamed of doing' but they couldn't do this because they were tied to the paycheck offered by their 'traditional' job. The other thing I noticed over the last few months that a good many of the unemployed began seeking jobs in 'alternative' or 'non-traditional' fields - particularly in the arts! Past accountants now turning into ceramic artists, auto-workers picking up an a guitar and joining a band, downsized secretaries turning a love of cooking into selling home made salsa and former Technology Directors attempting to turn my love of art into a living. Strange that! It seems that many people who have been 'un-shackled' from tradition are suddenly free to express artistic creativity as a means of making living - outside the traditional confines of how we define 'work'.
      Remember, that I said this is part of a cycle. I find myself at the end of the pursuit cycle and, realize that reaching this point has it's own dangers. I must confess that as philosophical as this discussion has been, the real and present need for immediate income is forcing me (once again) to push the more artistic dreams of making a living to the back burner. But, this time around, I understand the situation and plan on doing things a bit differently.
     So, I have been offered a 'traditional job'. I start Monday. While I am excited at the prospect of earning money to pay my bills. I will work to keep sight of objectives to make a living creating and selling art work. Unlike past efforts, I don't plan on backtracking to the point where I was creating art just for fun. I, like many others in the same situation, have discovered that there is a real market for what we do creatively and that with good planning, marketing, development of networks, and etc. my vision of making money in the world of art is just as viable as employment in the 'traditional' world of work. It won't be easy, but that is the plan... today....

Phase 18: "Good shot! You've just landed your first Newjita!"

      Well, the inevitable happened. I landed a job. So, ends the 5 month and 2 day adventure in the world of the unemployed. To do a quick summary. During this time I have applied for 211 jobs, had 14 first interviews, 9 second interviews, one drug-test and as of yesterday afternoon, at 3:00 I was offered a job.
      As much as being shockingly unemployed filled me with weird emotions, so, oddly enough, does suddenly being offered one after a long period of time also feels kind of strange. Kind of strange, like hunting with my Dad, putting my woodland skills to use and bringing down my first rabbit.

      I grew up in a family of hunters. My grandfather grew up as a kid during the depression and often was given two .22 caliber bullets to bring in food for the family for a week. Boy Scouting was also part of the formation of all three generations. A good portion of being a scout is about survival, and providing for yourself and your family. Those things have been very important to me as well, and have been crucial during this time of my life when I began questioning many aspects of my situation and how I could possibly get through it.

     Looking back over my posts, I realized that many of my posts related to just these situations. Survival, providing, and moving forward. Relying on what I have learned to deal with the situation. So, now on the cusp of re-entering the workforce, I have realized that, oddly enough, I was just settling in to a new survival mode. I have spent the last few months figuring out how to survive, how to provide and how to deal with the situation of being unemployed, and now, I have to adapt to a new situation.
     I must admit that the day-to-day life of the unemployed person has been strange. I have no real schedule 'forced' on me by an employer, so I often stay up later than I should, and have definitely spent many mornings sleeping in later than usual. As I have mentioned in past posts, 'employment' provides structure and in the absence of structure, we are lost. With all the time on my hands, my mind has drifted like a volleyball on the ocean (see Phase 15) . Thoughts of what to do from simple to bizarre, crazy to even illegal, crossed my mind. Trying to figure out how to get by, how to provide for my family. And, to be honest, the longer this period of unemployment stretched, the more depressing it has become - full circle from the feelings I had when I first lost my job.

      Yesterday, after being informed I had been hired, driving around, stuck in traffic, I began remembering how I felt the first time I actually killed an animal on a hunting trip with my Dad, Uncle and cousins.

     Prior to that first kill, I had spent time as a 'flusher' as my Dad called it. A flusher works a trail, reading signs of the animals, trying to scare them out of cover, so that the guys with the guns, who were flanking us could make the kill. After a couple seasons of flushing and a couple years of proper firearms training, through the Boy Scouts, my Dad made the decision that I had earned the right to hunt with the grown ups. A moment of pride and a right of passage among the men of our family. The task of flusher was now passed on to my brother.

     So, much like my discussion in a previous post (Phase 4), the hunt has been challenging. And, much like the fist time I sighted in and killed my first rabbit I have mixed feelings about the result. In the past, staring down at the fresh kill, the almost sweet smell of cordite combined with the much more muted scent of blood seeping from the rabbit at my feet, the cold, crisp December air, the post-gunfire silence that hangs like a blanket. My Dad, Uncle and friends closing the gap between me and the dead rabbit - them all smiling proudly at me! While I stood there, the adrenaline of the hunt and kill working it's way through my system, confused. My Dad reached me first, "Great shot son! You got him! He's gonna make a good stew! Now bag him and let's get going. There's more great eating out here!"

    Landing a job has been very similar to this experience. I spent time preparing, learning the ropes from other successful job hunters, putting my skills to the test, beating the brush of want-ads, eventually becoming worthy enough to take the shot - make the impression and in the end, catch the elusive Newjita. Much like that first kill, I sat in my car thinking, "O.K. I got one. But why doesn't it feel right?"
     One part of me is happy - finally I will be able to bring in the economic kill of a paycheck again. Man, the provider! The other part of me is, well, kind of disappointed.  For the last couple of weeks I had quite enjoyed the process of being the 'flusher'. Really, it's not that hard, you crash around the job market, looking for trails that might lead to the lair of a Newjita. But, if I don't flush one out in one gully, then I just move on. I simply adjust my resume, and cover letter and crash on.
     Then one day, I received a phone call for an interview - the chance to use my weapons - to prove I can bring down the Newjita and make the people around me proud.

     After a warming ride for us in the cab of the pick-up, the dead rabbits became stiff, the combination of rigor and cold air, sure to quench any bit of life that may have been in them. Once home, we all shared a hot pot of coffee, each hunter detailing the events of the days kill.

     Spreading the news of landing a job has been eerily similar to sharing hunting stories around the pot of coffee with the other hunters. Some hunters have had many kills, and lots of stories. Others have had only a few, and have less to add -- so they embellish their stories. I felt it just as important to share my successful 'hunt' with others, and they, like my Dad and Uncles did after I shot the rabbit,  have come rushing to me with congratulations via text-message, email and phone calls. And, I still have that weird feeling. "Thanks, but, really, it's not that big of a kill."

      Sitting at the stop light, texting my wife about the news, I can't help feel a bit sad, like I did looking at the freshly killed rabbit. I can't really say I enjoyed hunting. I am glad I learned the skills to do the job, but how often will I really need them? After all, we live in an age where hunting is not really necessary - at least that often. The stew made from the rabbit tasted good. The pay checks I will get will pay the bills, but honestly, in the end, much like hunting and killing rabbits, I really hope I don't have the need to do it for a long time.
  

Phase 17: Episode 1: "...next stop, the Unemployment Zone"

    The overall effect of being unemployed has produced a variety of emotions that are not always easy to explain or to slough off, like dust on a table, or dog hair on the floor, or unfolded laundry in a basket, or dirt dishes in the sink, or dinner not ready when the spouse gets home from work, or...... Arrrrrrrgh! Wait, I am inside some kind of time warp... Being unemployed has some how shifted, phased, or altered my existence! I have some how become a character in some kind of personal Twilight Zone.

     

[Bring up image of Rod Serling]


NOTE: The names and facts contained in this story may vary from actual reality, but the heartfelt sentiment remains true. 

"You're traveling through another dimension, a dimension not only of sight and sound but of mind; a journey into a wondrous land whose boundaries are that of imagination. That's the signpost up ahead — your next stop, the Unemployment Zone."

SCENE 1: A man wanders around the house, moving things, touching things straightening things, over and over, sometimes the same objects, readjusting them. He goes faster and faster, getting closer and closer to the camera until his face fills the frame, staring, blinking, zombie like.

[Narrator ME] "Recently I have reflected on things, kind of like an external observer in an episode of The Twilight Zone. I'm there, I see myself, I'm doing things, going through the motions of trying to cope with no job, dwindling resources and an increasing sense of foreboding. Yet, somehow I exist outside the regular world in some kind of strange limbo. 

    The days seem to run together, as I have mentioned before, the lack of a 'work-day' robs us of the subliminal addiction to a schedule. 

[Actual ME] (in bed, looking at the clock) "Get up. Come on. Move!"

[Narrator ME] "Each morning my body wakes me up around six - for a second - then the other part of me takes control 

[Other ME] (voice over) "He you! Shut-up! He doesn't have to go to work. Go back to sleep." 

[Narrator ME] Saddly the other part of me seems to take a stronger hold each day. It seems harder and harder to justify getting up in the morning. Harder and harder to find reason to do much of anything. 

SCENE 2 : back to the man doing chores around the house zombie like, laundry, dishes, taking out he garbage, dusting, sweeping madly, again ending up face to face with the camera. 

[Narrator ME] So, I watch myself, wander through the day, doing stuff. One day I do some laundry, the next I sweep, dust and do some yardwork. Then next day I may have an almost obsessive need to sweep and dust - attempting to collect every loose hair in the house. 

SCENE 3: the man taps away on a laptop, shuffles paper, makes notes on papers, carelessly drinks coffee, stops to take a cell phone call, swearing occasionally, looking haggard. 

[Narrator ME] Yesterday the obsession was job hunting. With maddening abandoned I sat, laptop on the table, web-browser whiring, resuume and cove letter open - tweaking each one to match each job like some kind of possessed demon in my personal twilight zone...Suddenly the computer dies....? The thing just shut down! I look for a reason. Dead battery. Christ! It's four in the afternoon... The entire day shot... Wait.... Where are the boys? What have they been doing all day. 

SCENE 4: (the man stands, stretches, looks to the ceiling...)

[Narrator ME]  I stand, stretch and move around the house to find out what has happened to my kids while I was lost in the Unemployment Zone. The youngest is at the neighbors swimming - I don't remember him even asking - the oldest, well he is GONE. I grab the cell phone and call. 

[ME] (manly hysterical) "Jezus, where the hell are you?"

[OLDEST SON] (perturbed and confused at being bothered) "God, Dad. Settle down."

[ME] (calming down) "So, you just go, without asking me?"

[OLDEST SON] (best 'adult' voice) "First, I AM 18 and I KNOW how to take the bus."

[ME] (frustration returning to my voice) "So!" 

[OLDEST SON] "Dad, you were so busy hunched over you computer with job adds an resumes all over, I didn't want to bother you."

[ME] (shuffling papers on the table, plugging in the computer charger) "O.K.

[OLDEST SON] "So, are you, like done? I'll be home by five."

[ME] (wanders into the kitchen, looks at the clock) "Sure. Be safe. See you then."

SCENE 5: the man moves around the kitchen, preparing dinner, cleaning up

[Narrator ME]  I  move lazily in the un-airconditioned heat of my house. I look at the clock - almost 5:00 P.M. , I had better get things straightened up around here and start dinner before my wife gets home... 

What? Where did THAT come from? Thinking in this heat makes my head hurt...so I go to the fridge.

SCENE 6: the man stands at the open refrigerator, drinking a beer, mist flows out of the fridge around his feet. He finishes a beer and stands there.

[Narrator ME] I start asking myself how much longer I can put up with this. This existence with no structure. This life of moving from day to day seems less and less important. The ongoing effort to find a job seems more and more pointless. The confusion of what to do next, the near freezing paralysis of not being able to move forward or backward. Stuck there....frozen.

SCENE 7: YOUNGEST SON enters from the door next to the fridge.  (he is wet, has a beach towel over his shoulder)  Stops and stares at his dad, who is standing in front of the open fridge.

[YOUNGEST SON] "Dad? DAD! What are you doing?"

(YOUNGEST SON runs off, Dad is startled. Stands looking around)

[Narrator ME] Crap! I'm still standing in front of the open fridge, but now there are three empty beer cans on the shelf, next to the now sweating milk jug. Brother. I need to get it together.

SCENE 8: time lapse of table setting, family seating, eating dinner, cleaning up, washing dishes, one at a time they leave, the man pours coffee, sits in a recliner in the living room, grabs his lap top and starts typing.

[Narrator ME] Dinner is made, served and over. The family is tucked away in the one air conditioned room of the house, watching Dr. Who or something and I am at the keyboard, still trying to figure things out. If I was a smoker, this is the time I would light up a cigarette, and try to get lost in thought. 

(fade to black)

Phase 16: Hey! I think I got one! No! Crap! It's a toilet seat!

     It's the middle of summer and I am approaching my 5th month of unemployment and many things have been bouncing around my head. First, as each day without a job passes, I gain a better understanding of the 'long-term unemployed'. By government definition, that means being unemployed for 27 weeks or more - I am at 18 now. National Public Radio aired a story that discussed that perceived improvement in the national unemployment rate does not reflect those people who have simply given up looking for work. They further noted that this population may represent nearly one to two percent of the nations actual unemployed, meaning that there has been no real turn around in employment figures at the national level.

      What do do? What to do? Looking for 'regular' jobs has been a less than successful to say the least. To date I have applied to over 200 jobs. Where does that leave me? Confused, depressed, angry, lethargic, non-committal, all true to some degree. But with savings dwindling and bills that don't go away just because I don't have a job, I must do something.

       So back to the drawing board. I scour the want ads, I surf the job sites and apply to anther dozen or so jobs, ant then I wait. It is during these times I return to trying to understand how all this is affecting me. Nothing seems to help. Flipping the channels on a rainy afternoon, I stopped on a fishing show. Hmmm.... fishing? Unemployment, waiting for an employer to call, hoping to get a really good job.

       Fishing. A noble past-time of an age gone by? A life-skill needed to put food on the table? A hobby that is passed from grissled old-timers to the next generations? How ever you look at it fishing and being unemployed have a lot in common.
       Akin to hunting (discussed in detail in several previous posts), fishing can help me understand what I am going through. Admittedly the pain of being fired has diminished over time, I now look at the job hunt like a fishing trip with my Grandpa.
       Perusing the classifieds, I identify a few 'fishing-holes' that seem interesting. So, out to my office I go. I pull out my tackle box of resumes, and after carefully reading the ad, I select one that I think will work. Remembering what my Grandpa taught me.
       He would tell me, "Boy, the 'bait' you choose is the most important part of fishin'. You gotta know what you're fishin' for and give it what it likes."
       So I pick out a resume, scrutinize it carefully. Reworking the 'electronic fly' so that it is as attractive as possible. The fish in the unemployment lake are very, very picky, so I must pay attention to every detail of the bait before I make the first cast.
       After a couple of hours of editing, copying, pasting, reformatting, font selection, etc. I rear back, try to judge the winds and flip the pole, watching the lure fly, carried by the winds of the ethernet to its destination, just...to...the...left of the 'discard-pile' and hopefully onto the desk where the Hiring Fish in the H.R. department will be.
       Having finished the cast, my Grandpa leaned back in his seat on the boat, "Son, now comes the second most important part of fishin'. Ya gotta wait. Let the fish consider your bait."
       So earlier this week I prepared several lures, cast lines out to likely locations where I hope some Hiring Fish takes the bait.
       Now, more than then, I better understand waiting. But, now, just like then, patience has never been my strong suit. I get patient. To help settle myself down, I thought about my Grandpa.
       As a kid I admired the near mystical qualities that my Grandpa possessed when ever we would go hunting or fishing. He seemed to see, hear and feel things that I could not, and that was well, just .....cool.
       Back at home, I flipped between my e-mail program, my mail-box, answering machine, and cell phone, impatiently pacing, trying to be as calm as my Grandpa in fishing chair.
      The phone rings.    
      Sitting up with a start I grab the pole, er, phone. "Hello, is Scott Lightfoot there?"
      Holding onto the pole reeling in the line, "Yes, this is he."
      "This is Connie, from Company X. We received your resume and would like you to come in for an interview.", the pleasant voice said.
      Reeling harder now, doing my best not to lose the fish on the other end of the line. "I'd be happy to come in and talk with you."
      I could hear Connie tapping on a keyboard in the back ground. "How about this Friday at 2:30 p.m.?
I recall my Grandpa's advice, "When you get one on the line, boy, you gotta feel the fishout. Let the ple and the line talk to you."
      The quizzical look in my 10 year old eyes told him I didn't understand.
      "Look, son, you gotta feel the pole. The fish will tell you a lot by how it feels. The tension on the line can help you guess the size of the fish, how much of a hold your hook has and you can tell if your line is strong enough to reel him in."
      Back on the phone with this fish, I could tell I had a chance. I set the appointment and prepared and waited. Again with the waiting.
      Again, my Grandpa's voice in my head tells me, "The challenge is to keep hold of the line until you get the fish to the edge of the boat where you can scoop him up with the net."
       The day arrived, and yes, I was exhausted. I had been holding on to the pole of hope, watching the tension in line get more taught, as I began to think about what it would be like to be employed again.

      The feeling I had now mirrored the youthful euphoria I had as a kid, when I felt the first fish on the end of my line. The thought of a regular paycheck, the prospect of having the void created by my job loss possibly filled by this new job. The confusion of not having a schedule made simpler by a weekly routine - what ever it would be - 'meaning' in my life restored by being able to look people in the eye and say, "I have job." I smiled ear to ear - just like in the photo of me and Grandpa.

       So I show up for the interview, jump through the hoops of that process (see phases 10, 11, 13) leave the office and return home. The muscles of hope holding on to the pole burn as I wait for some kind of response about the job. Waiting, more pain. Waiting, the line gets tighter. I pull with all the strength of my psyche. Believing that THIS time, the call will be positive. One day goes by, no call. Two days go by, nothing. Then on the third day....on my computer.... my email program comes to life . BWONG!! "You've got mail!"
       Now, Scott the Fisherman, standing with my feet anchored to the floor of the boat, pulling with all my might.
      I click on the message from Company X.
"Dear Scott,"
     I feel the fish on the other end giving up. I get excited as I see it break the surface of the water, glimmering in the sun.
"After careful review of your resume, discussion with your references, we have decided that you..."
    The line goes loose and I reel in faster, faster, to make sure I have a good hold on the hope that is the fish flying in the air.
"...do not fit the qualifications required for the position to which you have applied for. Free from the line it comes hurtling right at me. I'm too stupefied to move. I can't believe this is happening again!
"We at Company X will keep your resume on file. In the event that any positions open up in the future that match your qualifications, we will let you know."
     KERTHUNK!! Owwww! What the...? The damn fish hit me right in the forehead. Looking at the floor of the boat I see it's not the Hiring Fish, but ann old toilet seat. Dizzily I lean over and pick it up. I flip open the hold in the center of the boat and toss it in with my other 'catches'; the boot, the umbrella, the coffee can, the tree root, and the bucket.
      Damn. I turn the other way, start the engine and go back to shore, empty handed, no job, again.