Pounding The Pavement

Due to recent events, I've been looking for a job. I've always nurtured the fantasy that if I were laid off I could spend my days in artistic pursuit without the hinderance of a boss or a place of employment. I'm officially employed for two more days but I don't have to come to the office anymore. I check in via smartphone and send a few sporadic emails as needed. Despite the fact that I haven't officially entered the world of unemployment, I'm already antsy. I have to keep lists of things to do so I don't end up spacing out on the couch. I've learned over the last several months that life is more about balance than the quest to cast aside everything that does not seem to be part of the so-called master plan. I have been able to pursue my passions while still kowtowing to The Man. As I like to say, I may not be that crazy about The Man, but I sure do love his benefits and paychecks.

While I've been in Still Employed But Not Really Working Limbo I was lucky enough to land a couple of interviews at a hotshot startup (name deleted for obvious reasons). My initial phone screen was a breeze as was the first round of in-person interviews (or so it seemed). Unlike other startup interviews, I was asked about my actual job experience. It was clear to me that I could do the job with ease and add a lot of value. I left the office with the usual dash of uncertainty but could say that I wasn't nervous and calmly presented myself. Unfortunately, the company did not agree with my self-assessment. I'm pleased that they proactively reached out to tell me that they're moving forward with someone else as I've been left completely in the dark by other companies who chose not to update me or return my queries for status.

Sure, I'm not too psyched to be rejected but this was a job that I really wanted. It was the first opportunity in a few years that I was eager to pursue. In the past, I reluctantly accepted offers of employment because I was ready to get off the couch and breathe some fresh air. As I thought about it, I realized that the people who interviewed and rejected me were probably 9 or 10 years old when I started my career. It's both humbling and humiliating. For a while, I've been telling myself that I want to “go back” to the cool dot-com scene where people come to work dressed however they like, partake of the free food and beverages, and generally feel good about being inside the Internet Palace that so many people wish they could enter. I'll be honest- it's a great feeling. When I thought about all of this last night, the words “go back” really struck me for the first time. I heard “go back” as “go backwards” to something I've already done. It occurred to me that I've been trying to get into companies overrun by 20-somethings when I haven't been a 20-something for more than a decade. In my last cool dot-com job, the only people older than me were the CEO and the head of HR. Almost everyone else was younger than me, including my boss.

I'm not suggesting that I'm too mature or that these younger people are not as smart as me. In fact, the young people I've worked with are among the most talented people I've had the pleasure to be around. I sure as hell wish I had it together like them when I was their age. But I wonder if this dot-com quest is another way I've been clinging to the long-faded ideal of youth. Have I been chasing these jobs down because I want to feel young by coming to work in super casual dress?  I don't sit around and think of myself as an old guy but there are differences between people in their 20s and people in their 40s. As this is all new I'm still processing these thoughts. However, I'm starting to wonder if it's time to get out of the sandbox and start playing with kids my own age.

Laid Off

As I’ve discussed previously, I’ve been in a job for the past year that I never liked. For most of the time, I had to drag my feet out of the elevator and down the hall to my seat.  About four months ago, I had an epiphany:  the job is neither sucky nor great; it simply IS.  Along with that epiphany was another insight: I can choose to let my job define who I am OR I can consider my job to be the place where I have to pass the time so I can get the paycheck I need.  Ever since that time, I’ve come into the office without a care in the world.  I’ve also found numerous opportunities to explore the things I’m truly passionate about. My creativity has soared as a result.  All of that came crashing down last week.  

Over the last few weeks, there have been two mysterious men in our office who turned out to be consultants hired to get this sinking ship of ours back on track.  As soon as I realized that most of the meetings they had were with HR, Legal, and Finance, it became obvious that Step 1 of the resuscitation of the company was going to be in the form of “weight-shedding”.  About a week ago, I received a BCC email regarding a mandatory update meeting at 1PM.  The person across the aisle received a BCC email invite to a 2PM mandatory update meeting.  My neighbor received an invite for a 4PM all-hands meeting that I didn’t receive.  At that point, I emptied my desk and took a walk to kill some time.

At the appointed hour, I showed up to the conference room with my packed bag.  About 6 or 7 other folks streamed in afterwards.  On one side of the table were the two mysterious men.  As people entered, they made awkward pleasantries (“How’s your summer going?”  “Watching the Olympics?”). They eventually announced themselves as consultants who were hired to take over the company to finally achieve profitability.  The rest of the meeting was so by-the-numbers that I felt like I was in a movie:

• Overview on how the company is at a critical juncture
• Announcement that “unfortunately, your jobs were affected”
• Statement that this wasn’t about personalities and how “hard this is”
• Reminder of non-disclosures and non-compete clauses
• Gregarious gesture to go home for the rest of the day
• Another reminder of non-disclosures and non-compete clauses
• Offer to provide job placement assistance
• Q & A
• Dismissal

Since then I’ve been coming in for a few hours a day, soon to trail off to a couple of days per week.  As I’m not hustling to get here early, I’ve been spending more time in the gym working on the extra five pounds I gained by eating chocolate all day.  I consider myself a Dead Man Walking.  Everyone at work knows that I’m one of the “affected resources” so they don’t really pay me much mind as they know I’ll be gone soon enough.  The collar of my shirt was tucked into my shirt and no one seemed to notice.  While a couple of folks have been kind enough to ask how I’m doing, some people are afraid to talk to me or look me in the eye. They treat me like I’m a cancer patient, as if my affliction may affect them if they get too close.  Perhaps my predicament is reminding them of their own mortality.  As almost half the company was let go, the survivors may be waiting for the other shoe to drop.

As I walk around here, I feel like a ghost.  I can see what’s going on around me but no one seems able to see or hear me.  I’m a completely detached observer to everything around me in the office. It doesn’t matter if I’m sitting here or not- their day will not be affected in the slightest by any action I take.  It’s not the warmest feeling in the world but I’ve been occupied with thinking about the next chapter and taking advantage of the fact that I’m being paid to do whatever I want for the next few weeks.

I’m not panicking at all.  In fact, I’m looking forward to ending this chapter and moving to the next thing.  The feeling of claustrophobia that I’ve had for the past year is gone.  Instead, the world is feeling wide open to me right now with a myriad of choices to make.  I haven’t felt this empowered in years. 

Happy Birthday, Jer

I recently watched an old “Mad Men” episode that involved the death of Marilyn Monroe and the intense emotional reaction of the women at Sterling Cooper. Roger Sterling expresses his befuddlement over the fact that the women are reacting very strongly about someone they didn’t know. He clearly doesn’t understand the way that people attach themselves to their popular culture icons. This particular episode came to mind as I sat down to write this.

Ol’ Jer would’ve been 70 years old today. Later this week is the 17^th anniversary of his death. I’ll admit that I cried when I heard the news. At that time there was a lot of drama in my life. I think that the occasion of Garcia’s death was the catalyst I needed to release a torrent of stress and misery that had been building up for me. Over the subsequent years since Jerry left us, we’ve learned how his drug use destroyed him slowly. As someone said around the time he died, what he really needed was his own Grateful Dead type of escape where he could find the joy that he brought to many of us. I’ve often wondered what would’ve been if, as expressed in his last Rolling Stone interview, he was able to take a year or two off to get out of the hamster wheel and recharge his spirit. By that point in time, the band became such a huge enterprise that the livelihoods of dozens of people would’ve dried up and I suspect that Jerry had a very hard time accepting all of that.

Of course, I have no idea what Jerry thought about anything. As with many people who are fans of the Dead (or Springsteen or Dylan or any number of musicians), we assume that we have deep insights into a person we’ve never met merely because we can recite lyrics perfectly or walk around with an internal encyclopedia of the person's body of work. In Garcia’s case, I’ve thought about what it must’ve been like to drive around and see your face on other people’s bumper stickers and t-shirts. Jerry was very clear about the fact that he was not interested in being a hero. In fact, he expressed some disappointment over the fact that many people were unable to find anything in America more adventurous than following his band around. All he really wanted was to play music and may have been content if the Grateful Dead never happened and he was forced to hustle coffeehouse gigs and give guitar lessons to pay the rent.

So do I miss him? Not in the way I might miss an old friend who died but there is still a feeling of loss and yearning for what once existed.  Garcia’s passing was, for me, symbolic of the end of a certain period of my life that was full of highway adventures, roaring laughter, and even a life-threatening experience or two. When I listen to his music, there’s a part of me that celebrates those episodes from years past. The other part is all about embracing the joy and the passion in his playing that is stirred up in me even after listening to the same shows dozens of times. I'm grateful tonight for all of the people who took it upon themselves to record as much of the journey as possible so that people like me could revel in it. I feel lucky that I was able to make a connection to the music of a relative stranger and find a little pocket of peace and joy whenever I need it.

Wherever you are tonight, Ol' Jer, a lot of us are thinking of you and saying “thanks”.