Hi all.
I'm back.
Yup, I'll be writing about my times in various corporate suites, exposed desks and manic CEO's. Yup, its all here.
But first, I have to update my LinkedIn account, refresh the resume and set up job searches on several job sites. And, since I have experience going through this thing called unemployment, I will be taking breaks. I will step away from the computer to give my brain a rest. I'll do the laundry. I'll mow the lawn. I'll clean up the house. I'll play my bass. I'll learn some songs. I'll do some writing.
Ok, right now, I am going to take a break - the laundry pile awaits. Then maybe play my bass. But I'll be back on LinkedIn and all those other crazy job sites because when you are let go from a job, its time to find a new one.
I'll be back...
Thursday, July 21, 2016
Friday, August 12, 2011
Lunch with Eva
So, today I had a great networking lunch with Eva Abreu, founder of NJ Social Media, at the NJ Social Media HQ in Piscataway. It was a great and informative meeting as Eva and I discussed all things within the social media industry such as marketing, resumes and social media platforms. Over a great turkey and provolone sandwich, courtesy of the Tastee Sub shop in Edison, we eventually got to talking about our mutual love for music. We exchanged stories of what we liked and finally Eva asked, “Was there a lot of music in your house growing up?”
I began to tell her about my Dad who had one of the largest and most impressive jazz album collections anywhere (yes, vinyl). Dad could rattle off the bass player in the Oscar Peterson Trio (Ray Brown) and then tell you the entire horn section to the Maynard Ferguson Big Band (too many to list but all smoking). Big Band jazz was in his heart.
Mom, on the other hand, didn’t exactly love Big Band jazz as her tastes were more of the 70s mellow side. To the this day, when I hear any track off of Carol King’s awesome ‘Tapestry’ album, my memory bank immediately shoots back to the crazy green and brown living room in our old house. When I hear that album and almost anything by the Beatles (Rubber Soul and Abbey Road), I am instantaneously sent back to the old house. That’s the power of music. Bringing people together. Very social.
Meanwhile, my two older brothers (I am the youngest of three boys) would be sneaking in Schlitz 16 oz Tall Boy Beers up to the ‘cool room over the garage’ (think that 70s Show) and crank their 8-Tracks of Deep Purple, KISS, and Lynyrd Skynyrd – talk about a mix! Listening to all this different music made a HUGE impact on my own musical roots and now, I am trying to convince my daughter (who is only 5 yrs old now) that listening to Stevie Wonder, then some indie rock, followed by Metallica , which would then turn into The Police, then Earth, Wind and Fire would round out her musical education.
So, what does this really have to do with social media? Well, my lunch with Eva was great and we agreed that just like any social media platform, music could be considered a social media platform as it brings people together. I look forward to attending more networking meetings with Eva and NJ Social Media.
I began to tell her about my Dad who had one of the largest and most impressive jazz album collections anywhere (yes, vinyl). Dad could rattle off the bass player in the Oscar Peterson Trio (Ray Brown) and then tell you the entire horn section to the Maynard Ferguson Big Band (too many to list but all smoking). Big Band jazz was in his heart.
Mom, on the other hand, didn’t exactly love Big Band jazz as her tastes were more of the 70s mellow side. To the this day, when I hear any track off of Carol King’s awesome ‘Tapestry’ album, my memory bank immediately shoots back to the crazy green and brown living room in our old house. When I hear that album and almost anything by the Beatles (Rubber Soul and Abbey Road), I am instantaneously sent back to the old house. That’s the power of music. Bringing people together. Very social.
Meanwhile, my two older brothers (I am the youngest of three boys) would be sneaking in Schlitz 16 oz Tall Boy Beers up to the ‘cool room over the garage’ (think that 70s Show) and crank their 8-Tracks of Deep Purple, KISS, and Lynyrd Skynyrd – talk about a mix! Listening to all this different music made a HUGE impact on my own musical roots and now, I am trying to convince my daughter (who is only 5 yrs old now) that listening to Stevie Wonder, then some indie rock, followed by Metallica , which would then turn into The Police, then Earth, Wind and Fire would round out her musical education.
So, what does this really have to do with social media? Well, my lunch with Eva was great and we agreed that just like any social media platform, music could be considered a social media platform as it brings people together. I look forward to attending more networking meetings with Eva and NJ Social Media.
Monday, August 1, 2011
Spam
Today we are going to discuss something that everyone here dislikes, and no, it’s not bad reality shows, lukewarm coffee or weather predications. I am going to chat with you about that lovely unwanted email from some unknown person looking to sell you something.
Yes, I’m talking about Spam.
Webster’s dictionary describes Spam as the following –
1. noun, verb, spammed, spam•ming. 1. Trademark: a canned food product consisting esp. of pork formed into a solid block.
And this…
2. noun ( lowercase ) a disruptive, esp. commercial message posted on a computer network or sent as e-mail.
EUREKA!
Now that’s the spam I’m talking about. Funny how something so unwanted to could traced to a canned meat substance (for the record, I have never eaten Spam, even after watching the hilarious Monty Python ‘Spam’ episode). Electronic Spam, probably like the canned meat substance of the same name, can clog up your system (so to speak). Don’t these people know that hitting the ‘delete’ button on a Spam email is as natural as brushing your teeth?
So, let’s talk about the unwanted and or unsolicited electronic mail that comes to you with the possibility of some very promising results (Act now! Be the first on your block! Feeling down? Talk to hot singles!). Should you click on them? Sure, and you should open a can of Spam and try it with mustard, on rye.
Spam, the tinned luncheon meat, made largely from pork, in the military, stood for SPiced HAM, or for Stuff Posing As Meat. And for those annoying emails we all get, it stands for Stupid Pointless Annoying Messages. You get the idea.
Here is an example of SPAM I have received in my personal email account. Breast Implants, Fish Oil, World Travel, Left Hip Replacement Recall, Free Palm Reading, Find Love Today, As Seen On TV, Right Hip Replacement Donation, Impress your friends with Origami, Hubcap Art, Personal Mobility, etc, etc…
So, like the elephant in the room, when it comes to Spam, we all get them. Some are more colorful than others, some are as fiction as a good novel and most are very annoying. Thankfully, the ‘delete’ button, like brushing your teeth, is your best friend when it comes to the never ending fight against Spam (be the first to like this blog post and win a chance to talk to a hot single!! Who loves hubcap art! And spiced meat on rye!)
Yes, I’m talking about Spam.
Webster’s dictionary describes Spam as the following –
1. noun, verb, spammed, spam•ming. 1. Trademark: a canned food product consisting esp. of pork formed into a solid block.
And this…
2. noun ( lowercase ) a disruptive, esp. commercial message posted on a computer network or sent as e-mail.
EUREKA!
Now that’s the spam I’m talking about. Funny how something so unwanted to could traced to a canned meat substance (for the record, I have never eaten Spam, even after watching the hilarious Monty Python ‘Spam’ episode). Electronic Spam, probably like the canned meat substance of the same name, can clog up your system (so to speak). Don’t these people know that hitting the ‘delete’ button on a Spam email is as natural as brushing your teeth?
So, let’s talk about the unwanted and or unsolicited electronic mail that comes to you with the possibility of some very promising results (Act now! Be the first on your block! Feeling down? Talk to hot singles!). Should you click on them? Sure, and you should open a can of Spam and try it with mustard, on rye.
Spam, the tinned luncheon meat, made largely from pork, in the military, stood for SPiced HAM, or for Stuff Posing As Meat. And for those annoying emails we all get, it stands for Stupid Pointless Annoying Messages. You get the idea.
Here is an example of SPAM I have received in my personal email account. Breast Implants, Fish Oil, World Travel, Left Hip Replacement Recall, Free Palm Reading, Find Love Today, As Seen On TV, Right Hip Replacement Donation, Impress your friends with Origami, Hubcap Art, Personal Mobility, etc, etc…
So, like the elephant in the room, when it comes to Spam, we all get them. Some are more colorful than others, some are as fiction as a good novel and most are very annoying. Thankfully, the ‘delete’ button, like brushing your teeth, is your best friend when it comes to the never ending fight against Spam (be the first to like this blog post and win a chance to talk to a hot single!! Who loves hubcap art! And spiced meat on rye!)
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Did you hear that?
knock, knock,
"Did you hear that?"
"What…"
knock, knock
"There it is again?"
"What are you talking about?"
knock, knock
"Wait, there it is once more!"
"Really, I have no clue what you are talking about…"
That, my friends was the sound of opportunity, knocking on your door. Followed by, the sound of the planets coming into alignment. And lastly, that sound was someone turning on the light at the end of the tunnel. Welcome to your second wind, also known as, graduating from the Mini MBA program in Digital Marketing at the Center for Management Development at Rutgers.
I’ve been unemployed (or in ‘transition’) for the last fifteen months and I have been exploring several avenues of employment since that time. I’ve done several informational interviews with various friends in the design/marketing industry, I volunteered at a non-profit agency (The Seeing Eye) and a music festival (wrote the FB posts for the Waterloo Music festival), and then I tried fifteen weeks in thirteenth grade, but spending 40 hours in ‘the’ Piscataway with some of the best instructors in Social Media and Digital Marketing at the Rutgers Center for Management Development Mini MBA class has easily been the best move I have made so far.
Let’s do a quick recap – An engaging Matt Bailey talked about the SEO and Blogging and then Mark Schaeffer walked us through a comprehensive Social Media guide. Glen Gilmore eased us through Privatization while Christian ‘CK’ Kerley barreled through the benefits of Mobile Marketing. Greg Jarboe smoothly explained the benefits of ‘the’ You Tube and finally Mike Moran wrapped up the whole course in a neat and tidy box and imposed a great case study on us using everything we learned. Wow, my head was spinning.
As we neared completion of the course, Mike Moran finished the week with some excellent advice for us students. He told us to ‘take a deep breath and let the information sink in,’ then he asked that we take three items that we learned this week and explore those. For me, it will be re-doing my blogging website, researching Mobile Optimization and understanding ‘the’ You Tube. Hopefully, by next week, I should have a new website for my blog, up and running.
I also attend the New Jersey Open Coffee Social Media Meetup that takes place every Thursday in Montclair to continue my networking and if you have been following this blog, I will also continue to try and have the best lawn on my block.
So, yes, opportunity does knock, planets do align and lights in tunnels can be turned on.
Enjoy the ride.
"Did you hear that?"
"What…"
knock, knock
"There it is again?"
"What are you talking about?"
knock, knock
"Wait, there it is once more!"
"Really, I have no clue what you are talking about…"
That, my friends was the sound of opportunity, knocking on your door. Followed by, the sound of the planets coming into alignment. And lastly, that sound was someone turning on the light at the end of the tunnel. Welcome to your second wind, also known as, graduating from the Mini MBA program in Digital Marketing at the Center for Management Development at Rutgers.
I’ve been unemployed (or in ‘transition’) for the last fifteen months and I have been exploring several avenues of employment since that time. I’ve done several informational interviews with various friends in the design/marketing industry, I volunteered at a non-profit agency (The Seeing Eye) and a music festival (wrote the FB posts for the Waterloo Music festival), and then I tried fifteen weeks in thirteenth grade, but spending 40 hours in ‘the’ Piscataway with some of the best instructors in Social Media and Digital Marketing at the Rutgers Center for Management Development Mini MBA class has easily been the best move I have made so far.
Let’s do a quick recap – An engaging Matt Bailey talked about the SEO and Blogging and then Mark Schaeffer walked us through a comprehensive Social Media guide. Glen Gilmore eased us through Privatization while Christian ‘CK’ Kerley barreled through the benefits of Mobile Marketing. Greg Jarboe smoothly explained the benefits of ‘the’ You Tube and finally Mike Moran wrapped up the whole course in a neat and tidy box and imposed a great case study on us using everything we learned. Wow, my head was spinning.
As we neared completion of the course, Mike Moran finished the week with some excellent advice for us students. He told us to ‘take a deep breath and let the information sink in,’ then he asked that we take three items that we learned this week and explore those. For me, it will be re-doing my blogging website, researching Mobile Optimization and understanding ‘the’ You Tube. Hopefully, by next week, I should have a new website for my blog, up and running.
I also attend the New Jersey Open Coffee Social Media Meetup that takes place every Thursday in Montclair to continue my networking and if you have been following this blog, I will also continue to try and have the best lawn on my block.
So, yes, opportunity does knock, planets do align and lights in tunnels can be turned on.
Enjoy the ride.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Media that is Social
So, I’m looking to get into the somewhat new industry of Social Media. I have heard that conversations amongst ‘social media-ians’ (just made that up) usually goes like this –
Man 1 – Hey dude, have you Tweeted today yet?
Man 2 – No, but I have tumblr-ed this morning.
Man 1 – Wow, you feeling ok?
Man 2 – Yeah, I’m cool, I posted it on Facebook!
Man 1 – That’s totally Hootsuite, man…
Man 2 – LOL, dude….
Well, it might not be exactly like that, but that, ladies and gentlemen, are where we are headed. Yes, social media is here to stay. Another aspect of this new trend and something that has been around for quite a long time is blogging (or imaginative writing found on obscure sounding websites that the author thinks is funny or (gasp!) creative!).
A prime example of that kind of nonsense can be found at http://totallywink.blogspot.com
Well, yes, I have tweeted (I’m @totallywink), occasionally, I Facebook (Facebook is now a verb), this morning I Hootsuit-ed but I have yet to Tumblr. As I continue to network and research potential employment positions, I need to be confident in my answers when I am asked about my Twitter account (sounds creepy, doesn’t it?) or any Blog post I may have written (telling an HR rep my fascination with a psychotic bunny styled polo may take some kid gloves).
That’s why attending the New Jersey Open Coffee Meet Up about Social Media and Digital Marketing on Thursdays (http://www.meetup.com/New-Jersey-Open-Coffee-Montclair/) has been instrumental in me learning the language that so many geeks and HR folks speak.
This, and my future sojourn (actually next Monday) at the Rutgers Center for Management Development in Digital Marketing (It’s part of their Mini MBA program!! - http://www.cmd.rutgers.edu/mini-mba-digital-marketing.html) will help with my education (Right On!).
The real key to this Social Media experience is too hopefully, not make it an Anti-Social Media. Networking can only go so far via the internet. That’s why getting out and going to the Social Media Meetup in Montclair and the class at Rutgers will help folks put a face with the Tweet. Or the Hootsuite. Or the Tumblr.
Man 1 – Hey dude, have you Tweeted today yet?
Man 2 – No, but I have tumblr-ed this morning.
Man 1 – Wow, you feeling ok?
Man 2 – Yeah, I’m cool, I posted it on Facebook!
Man 1 – That’s totally Hootsuite, man…
Man 2 – LOL, dude….
Well, it might not be exactly like that, but that, ladies and gentlemen, are where we are headed. Yes, social media is here to stay. Another aspect of this new trend and something that has been around for quite a long time is blogging (or imaginative writing found on obscure sounding websites that the author thinks is funny or (gasp!) creative!).
A prime example of that kind of nonsense can be found at http://totallywink.blogspot.com
Well, yes, I have tweeted (I’m @totallywink), occasionally, I Facebook (Facebook is now a verb), this morning I Hootsuit-ed but I have yet to Tumblr. As I continue to network and research potential employment positions, I need to be confident in my answers when I am asked about my Twitter account (sounds creepy, doesn’t it?) or any Blog post I may have written (telling an HR rep my fascination with a psychotic bunny styled polo may take some kid gloves).
That’s why attending the New Jersey Open Coffee Meet Up about Social Media and Digital Marketing on Thursdays (http://www.meetup.com/New-Jersey-Open-Coffee-Montclair/) has been instrumental in me learning the language that so many geeks and HR folks speak.
This, and my future sojourn (actually next Monday) at the Rutgers Center for Management Development in Digital Marketing (It’s part of their Mini MBA program!! - http://www.cmd.rutgers.edu/mini-mba-digital-marketing.html) will help with my education (Right On!).
The real key to this Social Media experience is too hopefully, not make it an Anti-Social Media. Networking can only go so far via the internet. That’s why getting out and going to the Social Media Meetup in Montclair and the class at Rutgers will help folks put a face with the Tweet. Or the Hootsuite. Or the Tumblr.
Monday, June 27, 2011
Tired of my Attire
Ya know, when your unemployed, sometimes the hardest part of the day is deciding what t-shirt to wear. Most of my t-shirts are of the short sleeve variety and just about all of them, have some sort of dopey saying or colorful image plastered over the middle (I just got an awesome Spy vs. Spy shirt! Sweeeeeett!!).
But when it’s time to ‘step it up’ a bit, I tend to reach for the traditional, collared, solid color golf shirt. I know what you’re saying, if that’s his ‘step it up’ look, I would hate to see ‘formal’. Speaking of ‘formal’, that is usually some sort of long sleeved button down with crisp starched collars that can cause skin abrasions when worn for more than 30 minutes. It’s more like Velcro than silk. Anyway, those ‘armor’ styled shirts are still hanging in my closet, with the dry cleaning tag still attached (and hopefully the blood stains removed).
Back to the golf shirts; the ones I have are mostly just solid prints, with the occasional striped accents ala Bobby Brady and not too many logos (an alligator or someone’s initials stitched on my upper left chest? I think not!). Basic golf shirts, too me, are one step up from the classic ‘Guinness’ t-shirt.
Then, a while back, my wife returned home with the most awesome-ist, down-right kick ass, most totally wicked traditional golf shirt I have ever seen. And, it has a logo – this logo –
http://www.psycho-bunny.com/servlet/StoreFront
Does wearing this shirt make me want to listen to ‘Psycho Killer’ by the Talking Heads or ‘Psycho Analysis’ from the Ramones? Not really. But take note all you alligator wearing, collar up two initials sporting ‘polo’ looking guys, do yourself a favor and think outside the proverbial golf shirt box. Grab yourself a Psycho Bunny polo and snub your nose at convention. I like to think of the Universe as wearing the alligator and me wearing the Bunny. Psycho Bunny, that is. (I don’t work for the Psycho Bunny, I’m just a fan).
But when it’s time to ‘step it up’ a bit, I tend to reach for the traditional, collared, solid color golf shirt. I know what you’re saying, if that’s his ‘step it up’ look, I would hate to see ‘formal’. Speaking of ‘formal’, that is usually some sort of long sleeved button down with crisp starched collars that can cause skin abrasions when worn for more than 30 minutes. It’s more like Velcro than silk. Anyway, those ‘armor’ styled shirts are still hanging in my closet, with the dry cleaning tag still attached (and hopefully the blood stains removed).
Back to the golf shirts; the ones I have are mostly just solid prints, with the occasional striped accents ala Bobby Brady and not too many logos (an alligator or someone’s initials stitched on my upper left chest? I think not!). Basic golf shirts, too me, are one step up from the classic ‘Guinness’ t-shirt.
Then, a while back, my wife returned home with the most awesome-ist, down-right kick ass, most totally wicked traditional golf shirt I have ever seen. And, it has a logo – this logo –
Check out that bunny head. Totally cool. Yes, I now have a very cool Psycho Bunny traditional golf shirt (in a blue solid print, of course). And, it doesn’t matter where I go, someone always manages to comment on my new, way cool ‘polo.’ “It’s not a traditional polo,” I am sometimes asked for which I answer, “It still has a collar and two buttons so I think this still qualifies as a ‘polo’.”
http://www.psycho-bunny.com/servlet/StoreFront
Does wearing this shirt make me want to listen to ‘Psycho Killer’ by the Talking Heads or ‘Psycho Analysis’ from the Ramones? Not really. But take note all you alligator wearing, collar up two initials sporting ‘polo’ looking guys, do yourself a favor and think outside the proverbial golf shirt box. Grab yourself a Psycho Bunny polo and snub your nose at convention. I like to think of the Universe as wearing the alligator and me wearing the Bunny. Psycho Bunny, that is. (I don’t work for the Psycho Bunny, I’m just a fan).
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
What's in a name?
Totally Wink.
What a strange surname and domain title. What kind of person uses such a creative and thought provoking alias?
Well, it’s not so thought provoking as one might think, but it still catches folks’ attention.
So, here’s the story of how Totally Wink became such a phenomenon (well, at least in my head).
Years ago, when I was a young lad, I was in a cover band that was going to focus all its songs on the 1970s. Didn’t matter who the artist was (Captain and Tennille) or what the song sounded like (‘September’ by Earth, Wind and Fire). We were going to do the songs our own way (damit!).
One night, during a band meeting at the local Chili’s Restaurant, we reviewed our set list, pondered gig schedules, and discussed attire. Everything was going very smoothly (as were the industrial strength margaritas – on the rocks with salt) when it dawned on us that we lacked the one thing a working band needs, a name.
“Who were we?” we thought in between bites of our epic beef nachos and salsa. “What’s our niche” we deliberated while alternating our margarita and beer consumption. Finally, the lead singer announced, “We need a 70’s icon that we can have as the face of this band, so everyone start thinking about that” (this was before smartphones were invented). Well, that only left me (the bass player) and the singer as we were both born in the 60s and the drummer and guitar player were born during Disco’s peak (i.e. they had no clue).
So, names were launched out – Mr. T? Nah. Fonzi? No way. Poncherello? “What the hell is a Poncherello…” the drummer asked. Anyway, we continued and the guitar player says, “Who was this guy Wink Martindale? I remember my parents saying that was a funny name.” Like a ball peen hammer hitting your pinky toe in the middle of the night, it came to me. I said, (and probably was slurring a little when I said it) “Man, that’s totally wink…” The other guys waved me off like the drunk bass player I was and continued with their search.
Me? The next day at my job, working for an internet service provider, I bought the domain name Totally Wink (that was in 1993) and still have it. As for the band, we lasted about as long as a contestant on Tic-Tac-Dough and called it quits soon after. But the name, Totally Wink has lived on.
What a strange surname and domain title. What kind of person uses such a creative and thought provoking alias?
Well, it’s not so thought provoking as one might think, but it still catches folks’ attention.
So, here’s the story of how Totally Wink became such a phenomenon (well, at least in my head).
Years ago, when I was a young lad, I was in a cover band that was going to focus all its songs on the 1970s. Didn’t matter who the artist was (Captain and Tennille) or what the song sounded like (‘September’ by Earth, Wind and Fire). We were going to do the songs our own way (damit!).
One night, during a band meeting at the local Chili’s Restaurant, we reviewed our set list, pondered gig schedules, and discussed attire. Everything was going very smoothly (as were the industrial strength margaritas – on the rocks with salt) when it dawned on us that we lacked the one thing a working band needs, a name.
“Who were we?” we thought in between bites of our epic beef nachos and salsa. “What’s our niche” we deliberated while alternating our margarita and beer consumption. Finally, the lead singer announced, “We need a 70’s icon that we can have as the face of this band, so everyone start thinking about that” (this was before smartphones were invented). Well, that only left me (the bass player) and the singer as we were both born in the 60s and the drummer and guitar player were born during Disco’s peak (i.e. they had no clue).
So, names were launched out – Mr. T? Nah. Fonzi? No way. Poncherello? “What the hell is a Poncherello…” the drummer asked. Anyway, we continued and the guitar player says, “Who was this guy Wink Martindale? I remember my parents saying that was a funny name.” Like a ball peen hammer hitting your pinky toe in the middle of the night, it came to me. I said, (and probably was slurring a little when I said it) “Man, that’s totally wink…” The other guys waved me off like the drunk bass player I was and continued with their search.
Me? The next day at my job, working for an internet service provider, I bought the domain name Totally Wink (that was in 1993) and still have it. As for the band, we lasted about as long as a contestant on Tic-Tac-Dough and called it quits soon after. But the name, Totally Wink has lived on.
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Still Networking...
Well, here I am, now having surpassed a year of not working, and the one major accomplishment so far, is that my lawn is the best looking one on the block.
Really.
Now, don’t get me wrong, I enjoy having an awesome green, well manicured lawn that stands out from the slightly more yellow in hue looking lawns that surround me, but I would rather be employed.
Upon further inspection, I have noticed that two other lawns, further up the road on my street, are in competition with me for the ‘best lawn on the block’ award (I just made that up). And as I drive by these masterful putting greens, the men in charge of these tour de forces are all (get this) retired.
Retired? I’m competing against retired men? Can’t be.
Well, I thought that when I RETIRED, I would have conversations with other retired men about our lawns (Say Bob, what kind of weed killer are you using? Well, Skip, I just used Ortho Weed B- Gone MAX in the spray bottle that you can get at the local Ace Hardware for only…)
I’m not there yet!!! I’m in my forties and can’t even think about retiring let alone what I’m even having for dinner tonight (I checked – leftovers). This is like a bad dream that has come true. So, what’s an able bodied person such as myself going to do? Well, I’m still networking with the New Jersey Open Coffee Meet Up about Social Media and Digital Marketing on Thursdays (http://www.meetup.com/New-Jersey-Open-Coffee-Montclair) and I’m getting ready for my awesome class at the Rutgers Center for Management Development in Digital Marketing in July (It’s part of their Mini MBA program - http://www.cmd.rutgers.edu/mini-mba-digital-marketing.html). So, if nothing else, I’m keeping busy.
And I will get to all this as soon as I’m done taking out the Craftsman Gale Force gas powered leaf blower to rid my deck of the grass clippings that my Honda Elite Mulcher lawn mower sprayed all over the place. Well, at least there are no weeds in the lawn. Well, not yet.
Really.
Now, don’t get me wrong, I enjoy having an awesome green, well manicured lawn that stands out from the slightly more yellow in hue looking lawns that surround me, but I would rather be employed.
Upon further inspection, I have noticed that two other lawns, further up the road on my street, are in competition with me for the ‘best lawn on the block’ award (I just made that up). And as I drive by these masterful putting greens, the men in charge of these tour de forces are all (get this) retired.
Retired? I’m competing against retired men? Can’t be.
Well, I thought that when I RETIRED, I would have conversations with other retired men about our lawns (Say Bob, what kind of weed killer are you using? Well, Skip, I just used Ortho Weed B- Gone MAX in the spray bottle that you can get at the local Ace Hardware for only…)
I’m not there yet!!! I’m in my forties and can’t even think about retiring let alone what I’m even having for dinner tonight (I checked – leftovers). This is like a bad dream that has come true. So, what’s an able bodied person such as myself going to do? Well, I’m still networking with the New Jersey Open Coffee Meet Up about Social Media and Digital Marketing on Thursdays (http://www.meetup.com/New-Jersey-Open-Coffee-Montclair) and I’m getting ready for my awesome class at the Rutgers Center for Management Development in Digital Marketing in July (It’s part of their Mini MBA program - http://www.cmd.rutgers.edu/mini-mba-digital-marketing.html). So, if nothing else, I’m keeping busy.
And I will get to all this as soon as I’m done taking out the Craftsman Gale Force gas powered leaf blower to rid my deck of the grass clippings that my Honda Elite Mulcher lawn mower sprayed all over the place. Well, at least there are no weeds in the lawn. Well, not yet.
Monday, June 6, 2011
Going to a State School
So, the Universe is taking pity on me and finally, throwing me a bone, so to speak. I attended several training workshops with the New Jersey State Unemployment and they have agreed to send me to school for some additional training (whoo hoo!!).
Now, unlike my recent venture into the world of community college (see blog posts dated January 27th and May 20th), this class I am about to take is geared toward a skill set that is very current. Anything to get an edge on the workforce.
This coming July, I will be taking a one week intensive in Digital Marketing at the Center for Management Development at Rutgers. This class is part of their Mini MBA program and even my Unemployment counselor has heard good things from this program. (http://www.cmd.rutgers.edu/mini-mba-digital-marketing.html)
My counselor has also told me that this career is still in its infant stages and to go to this class at Rutgers will certainly help my resume. So, I am a little over a month away from taking this class and I can’t wait. In the meantime, to sharpen my Digital Marketing skills, I’ve joined a Meet Up that meets every Thursday to talk about Digital Marketing and Social Media (http://www.meetup.com/New-Jersey-Open-Coffee-Montclair/). Could there be light at the end of the unemployment tunnel? Or is that still an oncoming train piloted by the Universe?
Stay tuned.
Now, unlike my recent venture into the world of community college (see blog posts dated January 27th and May 20th), this class I am about to take is geared toward a skill set that is very current. Anything to get an edge on the workforce.
This coming July, I will be taking a one week intensive in Digital Marketing at the Center for Management Development at Rutgers. This class is part of their Mini MBA program and even my Unemployment counselor has heard good things from this program. (http://www.cmd.rutgers.edu/mini-mba-digital-marketing.html)
My counselor has also told me that this career is still in its infant stages and to go to this class at Rutgers will certainly help my resume. So, I am a little over a month away from taking this class and I can’t wait. In the meantime, to sharpen my Digital Marketing skills, I’ve joined a Meet Up that meets every Thursday to talk about Digital Marketing and Social Media (http://www.meetup.com/New-Jersey-Open-Coffee-Montclair/). Could there be light at the end of the unemployment tunnel? Or is that still an oncoming train piloted by the Universe?
Stay tuned.
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Getting the Band Back Together
Well, it’s happening. Something that I really didn’t think would happen but, I guess the Universe had other plans for me. Yes, it’s true.
“We’re getting the band back together.”
I’d never thought I would be a part of the famous 'Blues Brothers' movie quote but now I guess, I've come full circle, musician wise.
The band that is getting back together was a group that I auditioned for back in 1993 in a seedy rehearsal room in West Paterson. Well, they picked me and for seven years, we rehearsed in said seedy room and played out in the surrounding area. We called ourselves ‘Gang O’Kids’ after a phrase that the guitarist mom used to say about her neighborhood. “Look at all them gang o’kids running around…”
Nice.
Well, times change and lives change. The singer left in March of 2000 to move to Seattle and I left a month later to move to Colorado with my wife. Fast forward 11 years and I am now back in Jersey with my wife, a five year old daughter, a thirty year fixed mortgage and a dog. Wow. Our first rehearsal is at the end of June and I’ve started to relearn the demos and practice tapes of the band yet again. For this band, I have to break out the five-string bass for the deeper low end that the music demands (Thank You Modulus Flea 5!!) and because of everyone’s schedule, this will be a one-off gig. Ok, no problem. This should be fun. I’d like to thank the Universe for giving me a present during my unemployment time.
“We’re getting the band back together.”
I’d never thought I would be a part of the famous 'Blues Brothers' movie quote but now I guess, I've come full circle, musician wise.
The band that is getting back together was a group that I auditioned for back in 1993 in a seedy rehearsal room in West Paterson. Well, they picked me and for seven years, we rehearsed in said seedy room and played out in the surrounding area. We called ourselves ‘Gang O’Kids’ after a phrase that the guitarist mom used to say about her neighborhood. “Look at all them gang o’kids running around…”
Nice.
Well, times change and lives change. The singer left in March of 2000 to move to Seattle and I left a month later to move to Colorado with my wife. Fast forward 11 years and I am now back in Jersey with my wife, a five year old daughter, a thirty year fixed mortgage and a dog. Wow. Our first rehearsal is at the end of June and I’ve started to relearn the demos and practice tapes of the band yet again. For this band, I have to break out the five-string bass for the deeper low end that the music demands (Thank You Modulus Flea 5!!) and because of everyone’s schedule, this will be a one-off gig. Ok, no problem. This should be fun. I’d like to thank the Universe for giving me a present during my unemployment time.
Friday, May 20, 2011
Fifteen weeks in Thirteenth grade
OMG! WTF? LOL!
Is this Morse code?
No.
Some new Pharmaceutical ad campaign?
No.
A new kind of alien language?
Well, yes.
This little tidbit of information was brought to you by me, who just completed a semester at a local community college, or better known as, fifteen weeks in thirteenth grade.
Yes, fifteen weeks in thirteenth grade (now known as 15w13g, LOL) was quite the campaign by yours truly. Here I was, navigating thru a student body that was so strange, yet, seemed so familiar. After all these years, I was now on the OUTSIDE looking IN on these kids who probably looked at me with the same amount of perplexity as I did at them. Here are a few observations;
- Skinny Jeans can be worn by girls and guys. Back in the middle 1980s, this was all the rage. I know because as a musician, I did wear them (sadly). Then grunge came in and mercifully killed the look. Why it’s been reborn is anyone’s guess.
- ‘Heathers’ do exist.
- Every kid there is more important than you.
- Every kid would rather be somewhere else.
When you take a step back and look at it, community college is really just thirteenth grade. Most the kids know one another and it’s almost like a reunion of sorts, except they really are only one year (more like three months) removed from hanging out in high school. Whether or not they continue their education, all I know is that I will never wear skinny jeans again and my thumbs cannot text as fast as them. Maybe I really wanted to be someplace else just like them (like a job that I really like).
Is this Morse code?
No.
Some new Pharmaceutical ad campaign?
No.
A new kind of alien language?
Well, yes.
This little tidbit of information was brought to you by me, who just completed a semester at a local community college, or better known as, fifteen weeks in thirteenth grade.
Yes, fifteen weeks in thirteenth grade (now known as 15w13g, LOL) was quite the campaign by yours truly. Here I was, navigating thru a student body that was so strange, yet, seemed so familiar. After all these years, I was now on the OUTSIDE looking IN on these kids who probably looked at me with the same amount of perplexity as I did at them. Here are a few observations;
- Skinny Jeans can be worn by girls and guys. Back in the middle 1980s, this was all the rage. I know because as a musician, I did wear them (sadly). Then grunge came in and mercifully killed the look. Why it’s been reborn is anyone’s guess.
- ‘Heathers’ do exist.
- Every kid there is more important than you.
- Every kid would rather be somewhere else.
When you take a step back and look at it, community college is really just thirteenth grade. Most the kids know one another and it’s almost like a reunion of sorts, except they really are only one year (more like three months) removed from hanging out in high school. Whether or not they continue their education, all I know is that I will never wear skinny jeans again and my thumbs cannot text as fast as them. Maybe I really wanted to be someplace else just like them (like a job that I really like).
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Lost on Campus
Ok, ok, I know you all have a lot of questions regarding my sabbatical from this hobby called ‘blogging’ and the silly point of view that I have toward job-hunting. In all actually, I really had nothing to write about unless you call painting every upstairs room in my house blog-worthy. But I’m sure what you really want to know is, where have I been since Thursday, September 2, 2010? (aka, the date of my last blog entry).
Well, many events have taken place since that time but none more important than what happened today.
I went back to school.
Yes, school. Just so you know it’s not ‘Harvard’ or ‘Stanford’, or even an Adult Education night class held in a cafeteria at a local middle school. No, it is just ‘community’ college. Community is actually Latin for ‘really inexpensive’.
Say it with me – ka-moon-e-tea.
Excellent.
I’m attending a local community college to finish a Graphic Design degree that I started way back in the early 1990’s. We all remember the nineties, right? Well, here I am in 2011 back at school fighting my way through the North Face jacket wearing, iPod listening, two thumbs a texting, I’m cooler than you because I was born when you were in college, crowd. A fellow student actually called me “Sir” the other day.
Really? ‘Sir’? Ugh.
Talk about culture shock. Might be time to get a North Face jacket and take a black Sharpie to my grey beard (not really).
I am taking four classes at the local community college; Art History, Drawing I, 2-D Design, and English Comp II, and I’ve gotten lost looking for one of my class rooms at least six times. I’m hoping that once I’m done with about three semesters of classes, I can join the hearty folks of the working class. By then I should know my way around the campus.
Graduating with a degree in Design I hope will propel me into a fancy Art Director position with a nice window view and free coffee or working for a local t-shirt company. Either way, I’ll be in a cool creative environment (Hey, ya gotta dream it!).
I have been blaming the Universe for sending me on this crazy route in hopes of finding joyful employment and, moving forward, I will continue to blame the Universe for sending me on this crazy route in hopes of finding ANY kind of employment.
But in the meantime, I have a quiz about poetry next week and need to study the material. I’m betting that there is not one poem on the syllabus that starts with “There was a man from Nantucket…”
Hey look, I see that North Face jackets are on sale! (Man, I really need to get out of the house more often).
More to follow.
Well, many events have taken place since that time but none more important than what happened today.
I went back to school.
Yes, school. Just so you know it’s not ‘Harvard’ or ‘Stanford’, or even an Adult Education night class held in a cafeteria at a local middle school. No, it is just ‘community’ college. Community is actually Latin for ‘really inexpensive’.
Say it with me – ka-moon-e-tea.
Excellent.
I’m attending a local community college to finish a Graphic Design degree that I started way back in the early 1990’s. We all remember the nineties, right? Well, here I am in 2011 back at school fighting my way through the North Face jacket wearing, iPod listening, two thumbs a texting, I’m cooler than you because I was born when you were in college, crowd. A fellow student actually called me “Sir” the other day.
Really? ‘Sir’? Ugh.
Talk about culture shock. Might be time to get a North Face jacket and take a black Sharpie to my grey beard (not really).
I am taking four classes at the local community college; Art History, Drawing I, 2-D Design, and English Comp II, and I’ve gotten lost looking for one of my class rooms at least six times. I’m hoping that once I’m done with about three semesters of classes, I can join the hearty folks of the working class. By then I should know my way around the campus.
Graduating with a degree in Design I hope will propel me into a fancy Art Director position with a nice window view and free coffee or working for a local t-shirt company. Either way, I’ll be in a cool creative environment (Hey, ya gotta dream it!).
I have been blaming the Universe for sending me on this crazy route in hopes of finding joyful employment and, moving forward, I will continue to blame the Universe for sending me on this crazy route in hopes of finding ANY kind of employment.
But in the meantime, I have a quiz about poetry next week and need to study the material. I’m betting that there is not one poem on the syllabus that starts with “There was a man from Nantucket…”
Hey look, I see that North Face jackets are on sale! (Man, I really need to get out of the house more often).
More to follow.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
End of Summer Unemployment Blues
So, here we are at the beginning of the end – the ‘beginning’ is the long Labor Day weekend and the ‘end’ is the official end of the 2010 summer (although we all know we will certainly have our share of 90 degree plus days right up till mid October).
Recently the job search has been put on the back burner as A) its summer and anyone who is in charge of making any sort of decision is sitting on a beach chair somewhere dreading that they have to go back to the office to make any sort of decision, and B) duh, its summer. I did manage to get out a few resumes to the employed world, and I did sneak in a good networking breakfast with a few friends but here’s the real reason I’ve been slacking recently – my five year old daughter has had a two week break between the end of day care and the beginning of kindergarten. There’s that whole ‘beginning’ and ‘end’ theory again.
So, to fill the time, my daughter and I have been doing a lot fun things, like, watching a lot of Phineas and Ferb, riding our Razor scooters (yes, I have the adult version of the Razor Scooter also known as the A5 – it rocks!), going to the Children’s Museum followed by a trip to Micky D’s for a Happy Meal and then to the backyard to kick the soccer ball for a while.
And on those days when she was off on a play date, I painted the bathroom (a cool blue called Blue Moon), cut the grass, did the laundry, watched Phineas and Ferb (hey, it's pretty funny), built my daughters Barbie Dream House for her fifth birthday present as well as assembled the Zhu Zhu hamster tunnels. Then I added more idiotic apps on my smartphone (why?) all the while perusing the websites Monster.com and Indeed.com.
Ok, I’m guessing that after this long holiday weekend and next week, after I put my daughter on the bus for her first day of kindergarten, I will sober up (seriously) and get cranking on my job search. My unemployment is coming to an end and I will have to apply for an extension but I would rather be working. On the other hand, my volunteer work at the Seeing Eye is still happening, so if nothing else, it gets me out of the house.
Yeah, I was laid off back in May but overall I’ve had a good summer with the family. Thank you Universe for letting me have the ‘summer off’. But, we need to get going on that job search – see you the first week of September!
Recently the job search has been put on the back burner as A) its summer and anyone who is in charge of making any sort of decision is sitting on a beach chair somewhere dreading that they have to go back to the office to make any sort of decision, and B) duh, its summer. I did manage to get out a few resumes to the employed world, and I did sneak in a good networking breakfast with a few friends but here’s the real reason I’ve been slacking recently – my five year old daughter has had a two week break between the end of day care and the beginning of kindergarten. There’s that whole ‘beginning’ and ‘end’ theory again.
So, to fill the time, my daughter and I have been doing a lot fun things, like, watching a lot of Phineas and Ferb, riding our Razor scooters (yes, I have the adult version of the Razor Scooter also known as the A5 – it rocks!), going to the Children’s Museum followed by a trip to Micky D’s for a Happy Meal and then to the backyard to kick the soccer ball for a while.
And on those days when she was off on a play date, I painted the bathroom (a cool blue called Blue Moon), cut the grass, did the laundry, watched Phineas and Ferb (hey, it's pretty funny), built my daughters Barbie Dream House for her fifth birthday present as well as assembled the Zhu Zhu hamster tunnels. Then I added more idiotic apps on my smartphone (why?) all the while perusing the websites Monster.com and Indeed.com.
Ok, I’m guessing that after this long holiday weekend and next week, after I put my daughter on the bus for her first day of kindergarten, I will sober up (seriously) and get cranking on my job search. My unemployment is coming to an end and I will have to apply for an extension but I would rather be working. On the other hand, my volunteer work at the Seeing Eye is still happening, so if nothing else, it gets me out of the house.
Yeah, I was laid off back in May but overall I’ve had a good summer with the family. Thank you Universe for letting me have the ‘summer off’. But, we need to get going on that job search – see you the first week of September!
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
All Hail the Pointy Headstock
You will notice that title of my latest blog post is somewhat deceiving. I mean, you were probably all ready to read something about my latest networking magic or some job hunting moxie. Well, today’s post is going to be a tad more selfish (although, all the other posts have been about me so they could be considered selfish as well). Today I’ll be writing about a true love. Yes, the pointy headstock bass guitar.
Let me explain.
When I was a young pup growing up in a very musical household, I tried several musical instruments before I settled on playing the bass. There was the one week intensive playing drums, the occasional noodling on the acoustic guitar, the three hour piano lesson and finally the concentrated six month banjo dream (somehow, Deep Purple’s Smoke on the Water just didn’t sound as cool on a banjo as it did on the low E string of a guitar).
My oldest bother played drums; my other older brother played the guitar so they encouraged me to pick up the bass so we could be like the Partridge Family but on mushrooms. I was soon hooked (on the playing bass not mushrooms) and off to the bedroom to practice I went.
My first two basses we OK (an old 70s Kramer bass with an aluminum neck and then a pearl white Aria bass – hey I was totally digging on John Taylor from Duran Duran at the time!) and they were adequate for playing the occasional Judas Priest or AC/DC song; but something was missing.
I longed for a pointy headstock bass.
In the 1980s, you could not swing a bottle of Aqua Net without hitting a pointy headstock guitar. They were everywhere. It was March of 1986 when I first wandered into that Sam Ash music store in Paramus and low and behold my eyes were transfixed on a beautiful black pointy headstock bass hanging on the wall. I flipped my frosted glam metal hair out of my eyes while my cut off RATT concert shirt barely clung to my 98 lb body over my ridiculous cut up acid wash jeans and white untied wrestling sneakers (come on, we were all there at some point!) as she hung on the wall in all of her black high gloss glory – a double cut away body with a P/J pick up configuration, a rosewood fingerboard and then the wonderful black pointy headstock. I was hooked. After some careful negotiation about the value of my trade in (the Aria bass - sorry!) and the amount of cash I was to pony up, she came home with me and we bonded.
Wow.
Over the last 24 years, me and that pointy headstock bass played gigs in dorm rooms, apartments, dive bars, outdoor BBQ’s, New York City, gymnasiums, honky-tonks, Staten Island, Philadelphia, strip bars, Halloween parties, Friday nights, Saturday nights, two dollar beer night, New Years Eve parties, one US Army base, three dollar Kamikaze night, one art gallery opening, Sunday afternoons, freshman orientation night, the night before Thanksgiving night, narrowly missed opening for Quiet Riot night,… whew! The list goes on.
As the years went by, I gravitated to other basses but she was always there waiting to come out and play but she was in need of some major repairs. This year I finally got her spruced up and ready for action. I got her a new neck, cleaned her up and now she is competing with my other basses to get out. It’s like she never left. She is totally broken in, scratched up, beaten down and yet still sounds great. In all the years we played together, she never once let me down.
Welcome home pointy head stock bass. I can’t wait to talk about you when I finally land a new job.
Let me explain.
When I was a young pup growing up in a very musical household, I tried several musical instruments before I settled on playing the bass. There was the one week intensive playing drums, the occasional noodling on the acoustic guitar, the three hour piano lesson and finally the concentrated six month banjo dream (somehow, Deep Purple’s Smoke on the Water just didn’t sound as cool on a banjo as it did on the low E string of a guitar).
My oldest bother played drums; my other older brother played the guitar so they encouraged me to pick up the bass so we could be like the Partridge Family but on mushrooms. I was soon hooked (on the playing bass not mushrooms) and off to the bedroom to practice I went.
My first two basses we OK (an old 70s Kramer bass with an aluminum neck and then a pearl white Aria bass – hey I was totally digging on John Taylor from Duran Duran at the time!) and they were adequate for playing the occasional Judas Priest or AC/DC song; but something was missing.
I longed for a pointy headstock bass.
In the 1980s, you could not swing a bottle of Aqua Net without hitting a pointy headstock guitar. They were everywhere. It was March of 1986 when I first wandered into that Sam Ash music store in Paramus and low and behold my eyes were transfixed on a beautiful black pointy headstock bass hanging on the wall. I flipped my frosted glam metal hair out of my eyes while my cut off RATT concert shirt barely clung to my 98 lb body over my ridiculous cut up acid wash jeans and white untied wrestling sneakers (come on, we were all there at some point!) as she hung on the wall in all of her black high gloss glory – a double cut away body with a P/J pick up configuration, a rosewood fingerboard and then the wonderful black pointy headstock. I was hooked. After some careful negotiation about the value of my trade in (the Aria bass - sorry!) and the amount of cash I was to pony up, she came home with me and we bonded.
Wow.
Over the last 24 years, me and that pointy headstock bass played gigs in dorm rooms, apartments, dive bars, outdoor BBQ’s, New York City, gymnasiums, honky-tonks, Staten Island, Philadelphia, strip bars, Halloween parties, Friday nights, Saturday nights, two dollar beer night, New Years Eve parties, one US Army base, three dollar Kamikaze night, one art gallery opening, Sunday afternoons, freshman orientation night, the night before Thanksgiving night, narrowly missed opening for Quiet Riot night,… whew! The list goes on.
As the years went by, I gravitated to other basses but she was always there waiting to come out and play but she was in need of some major repairs. This year I finally got her spruced up and ready for action. I got her a new neck, cleaned her up and now she is competing with my other basses to get out. It’s like she never left. She is totally broken in, scratched up, beaten down and yet still sounds great. In all the years we played together, she never once let me down.Welcome home pointy head stock bass. I can’t wait to talk about you when I finally land a new job.
(BTW, that is me playing the pointy headstock bass somewhere, I think in 1989, I think. Maybe it was 1991... Just not sure...)
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Volunteer to Volunteer
As part of my networking process, it was suggested that maybe ‘volunteering’ would be a great way to network. Well, there have been too many days of sitting in front of my laptop, breathing the recycled air while staring at the refrigerator – time to get out. So, to up the ante on my networking, I recently applied to volunteer at the head quarters of the Seeing Eye, a dog training facility in Morristown, that trains Labrador Retrievers and German Sheppard’s to be guide dogs.
And, they said Yes!
Now, you just don’t volunteer at a place like the Seeing Eye and expect to get a cushy volunteer gig, just doesn’t work that way. My first day was grocery shopping. Yes, grocery shopping. The Seeing Eye brings in 24 brand new ‘students’ every five months to train them with their new guide dog and sometimes there are certain items that the students wish to have. That’s where I come in. I met Carl, the head of Hospitality (who is a wonderful guy) and he gave me a food and beverage list. Having had experienced being a Stay at Home Dad for a year, I felt I was perfect for the job. Carl handed me the list, wished me luck and off I went. I was buying things like deodorant, spiffy toothpaste, alcohol and the occasional bag of Muncho’s.
Got it all.
I did have to go to three different places but it was worth it. The highlight of the excursion was when I was returning – As I was driving back to the HQ, I saw trainers and guide dogs with their new students walking for the first time in our little busy town. It was awesome. I felt really good about giving back. Well, it went so smoothly, that they have asked me to come back in a few Mondays to do it all over again. I absolutely agreed. It did make me stop and wonder though – here I am, unemployed and looking for work and these folks are just trying to get through their day. And now, with the assistance of a new guide dog, life should be easier.
Glad to see that the Universe is taking care of some folks who could use it.
And, they said Yes!
Now, you just don’t volunteer at a place like the Seeing Eye and expect to get a cushy volunteer gig, just doesn’t work that way. My first day was grocery shopping. Yes, grocery shopping. The Seeing Eye brings in 24 brand new ‘students’ every five months to train them with their new guide dog and sometimes there are certain items that the students wish to have. That’s where I come in. I met Carl, the head of Hospitality (who is a wonderful guy) and he gave me a food and beverage list. Having had experienced being a Stay at Home Dad for a year, I felt I was perfect for the job. Carl handed me the list, wished me luck and off I went. I was buying things like deodorant, spiffy toothpaste, alcohol and the occasional bag of Muncho’s.
Got it all.
I did have to go to three different places but it was worth it. The highlight of the excursion was when I was returning – As I was driving back to the HQ, I saw trainers and guide dogs with their new students walking for the first time in our little busy town. It was awesome. I felt really good about giving back. Well, it went so smoothly, that they have asked me to come back in a few Mondays to do it all over again. I absolutely agreed. It did make me stop and wonder though – here I am, unemployed and looking for work and these folks are just trying to get through their day. And now, with the assistance of a new guide dog, life should be easier.
Glad to see that the Universe is taking care of some folks who could use it.
Friday, July 23, 2010
The Follow Up
So, I reached out to a former co-worker to see how the old company I worked for is doing. Tam Aznod is still sitting in a cube, wearing pleated khakis’ and wishing he was someplace else. I’ve changed Tam’s name to protect his cube position. Here is an excerpt of the conversation:
Me – Hey Tam, how’s it going?
Tam (whispering) – Hey man, I can’t really talk, I’m on a call campaign to all my clients…
Me – OK, I’ll let you go. I was just checking in to see what’s happening.
Tam (still whispering) – nothing’s changed here. I still sit in this God forsaken cube, wearing a headset, talking to people who don’t want to talk to me. It’s horrible. If nothing else, at least the coffee is free…
Me – Bummer man…
Tam – Yeah, you think you’re miserable sitting at home trying to figure out your next career move, try coming back here and wearing a fake smile, and pressed pants. Who knew I had to match my socks with my belt?
Me – I’m wearing a pair of shorts right now…
Tam - You suck...
Me - Anyway, how are Laurie (Laurie Broadway) and Mickey (Mickey VicShane) doing?
Tam (still whispering) – They are miserable as well, wait hold on (Tam changes his voice) That’s right sir, it’s Tam Aznod calling, I was calling in regards to……. that’s right,….. yes, from the corporate office,….. and…… (Tam starts to whisper again) whew,… that was close, our new Senior VP just walked by, I hope he bought it, you still there?
Me – I’m still here. Look you sound somewhat busy…
Tam – Yeah kinda, these call campaigns are so bothersome that I can’t even play Bejewelded anymore…
Me – Well, tell everyone I said ‘hi’ and…
Tam – I will, hey man, be happy you got this chance to sort your career out. Its way too tough to do it while you’re in a call campaign having people yell at you over the phone. And I cannot express how much I can’t stand sitting in a cube. Gotta go! Let’s have lunch!
Well, Tam and I and the rest of the gang are going to have lunch to commiserate on corporate cube sitting. It really won’t be a networking gig but it will sure be fun.
Take that Universe….
Me – Hey Tam, how’s it going?
Tam (whispering) – Hey man, I can’t really talk, I’m on a call campaign to all my clients…
Me – OK, I’ll let you go. I was just checking in to see what’s happening.
Tam (still whispering) – nothing’s changed here. I still sit in this God forsaken cube, wearing a headset, talking to people who don’t want to talk to me. It’s horrible. If nothing else, at least the coffee is free…
Me – Bummer man…
Tam – Yeah, you think you’re miserable sitting at home trying to figure out your next career move, try coming back here and wearing a fake smile, and pressed pants. Who knew I had to match my socks with my belt?
Me – I’m wearing a pair of shorts right now…
Tam - You suck...
Me - Anyway, how are Laurie (Laurie Broadway) and Mickey (Mickey VicShane) doing?
Tam (still whispering) – They are miserable as well, wait hold on (Tam changes his voice) That’s right sir, it’s Tam Aznod calling, I was calling in regards to……. that’s right,….. yes, from the corporate office,….. and…… (Tam starts to whisper again) whew,… that was close, our new Senior VP just walked by, I hope he bought it, you still there?
Me – I’m still here. Look you sound somewhat busy…
Tam – Yeah kinda, these call campaigns are so bothersome that I can’t even play Bejewelded anymore…
Me – Well, tell everyone I said ‘hi’ and…
Tam – I will, hey man, be happy you got this chance to sort your career out. Its way too tough to do it while you’re in a call campaign having people yell at you over the phone. And I cannot express how much I can’t stand sitting in a cube. Gotta go! Let’s have lunch!
Well, Tam and I and the rest of the gang are going to have lunch to commiserate on corporate cube sitting. It really won’t be a networking gig but it will sure be fun.
Take that Universe….
Friday, July 16, 2010
Holiday Week
This post was delayed due to a vacation, so I apologize for the lateness - So, I will admit that this was indeed a bad week for networking. When a major holiday comes rolling in, it seems like everyone (myself included) gets sucked into the hilarity of it all and completely shuts down. I am one of those folks and I am guilty as charged. Well, the July Fourth one day holiday suddenly became the July Fourth four day holiday weekend. July Fourth landed on a Sunday so most companies gave Friday July Second off as well as Monday July Fifth off. This all made me a tad bitter as I wished I had all those days off as well (wait a minute, who am I kidding!?) I know, I know, people kept telling me that I’m so lucky to be home, and “that’s awesome that you have the time to find what you want and…”
Ok. I get it.
I do know I have this great opportunity to ‘find myself’ so to speak but it’s not like going to Stop and Shop to get some buttermilk waffles (two for $4.00 today with your Stop and Shop card!) and a couple plain vanilla yogurts (I like yogurt, really!), it really is a bit tougher. Then there are more hiccups thrown at you (but this one is a good hiccup) - Today, I went with my daughter on their school field trip to the Turtle Back Zoo. Talk about insanity! 32 five year olds wearing neon green shirts dodging rain drops and goose poop trying to watch the penguins eat sardines. It was awesome! And for a few hours I didn’t really care if I networked or not. I left drenched and happy. My one observation about the zoo was that they put the red tailed hawks habitat directly across the way from the prairie dog home; now, isn’t that a bit insensitive toward the Hawks? I mean, they must be going crazy watching those brown varmints running around freely without a care while they are in a twenty four by twenty four foot square cage with NO CHANCE of grabbing one for breakfast.
Like I said, strictly an observation, and here I was thinking that the Universe was playing tricks on me….
There’s always another chance to network tomorrow.
Ok. I get it.
I do know I have this great opportunity to ‘find myself’ so to speak but it’s not like going to Stop and Shop to get some buttermilk waffles (two for $4.00 today with your Stop and Shop card!) and a couple plain vanilla yogurts (I like yogurt, really!), it really is a bit tougher. Then there are more hiccups thrown at you (but this one is a good hiccup) - Today, I went with my daughter on their school field trip to the Turtle Back Zoo. Talk about insanity! 32 five year olds wearing neon green shirts dodging rain drops and goose poop trying to watch the penguins eat sardines. It was awesome! And for a few hours I didn’t really care if I networked or not. I left drenched and happy. My one observation about the zoo was that they put the red tailed hawks habitat directly across the way from the prairie dog home; now, isn’t that a bit insensitive toward the Hawks? I mean, they must be going crazy watching those brown varmints running around freely without a care while they are in a twenty four by twenty four foot square cage with NO CHANCE of grabbing one for breakfast.
Like I said, strictly an observation, and here I was thinking that the Universe was playing tricks on me….
There’s always another chance to network tomorrow.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
The Delete Button
Every now and then, I find myself hunched over the laptop keyboard looking like a gigantic ‘C’ from Sesame Street, inches away from the screen like I was panning for gold, wondering, “I really need to get out of the house.” Yes, part of networking is actually going out and talking to people. Email has become so impersonal that you can never have that wonderful human contact that speaks volume. When you are actually speaking to someone, they can’t hit the delete button (although, if you had the super power of mind reading, you might come across some folks who wish they did have a delete button).
So recently, I found myself at a BBQ, surrounded by folks with alcohol in hand and burgers on flowery paper plates, ready to launch my own autobiography to anyone who would listen; and hopefully they would not hit the delete key. Well, the damn Universe which I have spoken about so harshly in other post’s, was up to his old tricks again. The Universe also put an alcoholic drink in my hand as well.
Nicely played, Universe.
Well, instead of talking about possible employment or job leads, the World Cup was a captivating conversation (grown men running and kicking a ball) as well as the status of my next oil change in my truck (riveting, I know). And the evil drink that the Universe Bartender supplied me was putting me in la-la land (good ole Sam Adams).
Curse you Universe.
I know that this has to be all part of the hazing ritual from the Universe, but those patriotic beers were going down, well, like patriotic beers at a BBQ. And the next morning (actually, afternoon) I went and got the oil changed in my truck while I watched the World Cup on the TV in the ‘lounge’ (I wouldn’t exactly call it a ‘lounge’ with the torn vinyl seats and last year’s Motor Trend magazine laying around but that’s what they called it). It was at that point I wish I had my own delete key.
I will see you again, Universe.
So recently, I found myself at a BBQ, surrounded by folks with alcohol in hand and burgers on flowery paper plates, ready to launch my own autobiography to anyone who would listen; and hopefully they would not hit the delete key. Well, the damn Universe which I have spoken about so harshly in other post’s, was up to his old tricks again. The Universe also put an alcoholic drink in my hand as well.
Nicely played, Universe.
Well, instead of talking about possible employment or job leads, the World Cup was a captivating conversation (grown men running and kicking a ball) as well as the status of my next oil change in my truck (riveting, I know). And the evil drink that the Universe Bartender supplied me was putting me in la-la land (good ole Sam Adams).
Curse you Universe.
I know that this has to be all part of the hazing ritual from the Universe, but those patriotic beers were going down, well, like patriotic beers at a BBQ. And the next morning (actually, afternoon) I went and got the oil changed in my truck while I watched the World Cup on the TV in the ‘lounge’ (I wouldn’t exactly call it a ‘lounge’ with the torn vinyl seats and last year’s Motor Trend magazine laying around but that’s what they called it). It was at that point I wish I had my own delete key.
I will see you again, Universe.
Monday, June 21, 2010
May the beard be with you
During the course of my recent unemployment, I have sent out resumes, I have networked, I applied to volunteer, all the things one should accomplish. And lastly, I decided to grow a beard. Yeah, just like the movie Mr. Mom. Remember this classic conversation?
Ron Richardson: Yeah? Are you gonna make it all 220?
Jack Butler: Yeah. 220... 221, whatever it takes.
My decision to grow a beard was, I admit, driven by one part laziness’ and one part financially. The laziness’ was obvious. Every morning, I go to battle with the hair follicle’s that cover my face with musky smelling soap and a razor that holds five scalpel styles blades to do their work. Sure, there are always some casualties (nothing that a little toilet paper can’t heal), but morning ritual had grown stale. On the weekends I would teas my chin, not shaving until early Monday morning, giving my neck and cheek hairs some life before I mercifully hacked them down. Then, to add further punishment, I would dose them with a stinging after shave. They were not amused.
It was then, that the beard began to plot its revenge.
The beard has always wanted grow. Knowing that if I could just get through the awkward sandpaper and patchwork phase it would all work out (we won’t talk about the ‘grey’ phase). So, after conferring with the wife and kid, we all agreed to give it life. I felt reborn. I felt strong. I felt like I was giving back. The beard was all for it.
My immediate friends all had their initial opinions – from ‘must be not feeling well’, and ‘hasn’t he ever heard of Gillett?’ to ‘what the hell is that?’ and ‘is he trying to be a Civil War reenactment actor?’ but I’ll damn society and I’ll break the trend. The beard would not only enhance my fire side chat sweater but it would make me stand out amongst all the men. Goat-tees are trendy. Mustaches are too old school. And I mean like old school from the Normandy beach invasion days. Not for me.
So, the beard progressed. It became fuller and richer as did my attitude. “I am a real man” I shouted to myself, “I’m not afraid of growing a beard’. Other men sensed my cockiness and suddenly would change direction in aisles in stores or move over to another urinal.
But quite suddenly, the questions began. And just like any person who is on top, there are folks looking to knock them down. And they usually don’t have beards. I would hear things like ‘going hiking this weekend?’ and I would have to summon the energy to look at them, still with my confidence high and answer ‘no. I’m going to a butterfly exhibit with my daughter’.
Agh!
What was happening? I gave the beard life and it was now turning on me. For all the years that I sub consciously just butchered the follicles under my thought process of ‘routine’. I sensed the beard laughing at me and I needed to keep it under control. Other bearded men were on to my facade. Non bearded men still held me in esteem. I was caught in the middle. Like between an admiral beard (the big chin strap) and the Grizzly Adam’s (full on ‘can’t find your own mouth on your own face’ beard). I needed to make a decision. I could go out a buy real hiking boots and some flannel shirts or a new pack of Fuzion razors and some exfoliating soap. Me and the beard, well, we’re going to have it out.
So, the beard grew. And grew; and grew. Its fullness started to become a hazard. Its maintenance became all too consuming. Here I was giving my full beard its own life and it was starting to turn. The beard began to itch. It was at that point I dreamed about being able to scratch my face with my hind legs, like my dog, just to alleviate the discomfort; although if that were the case, I would never leave the house. I was now discovering food hidden away in tiny nooks and crannies of the beard map. The upkeep was now battling with the status, and I was growing tired.
Monday morning I wiped the steam off the vanity mirror and announced to no one in particular that I was ready to rejoin the beardless society. Ten minutes later, I surveyed the flotsam and jetsam that was floating in the pool and decided not to second guess. Too late for that! The five extra sharp Schick blades did their damage and soon I was just another guy mowing his lawn in the suburbs with white toilet paper clinging to his face. I was blending in. I was sad.
Maybe if I lived in a more rural surrounding like New Hampshire or even Colorado would my facial hair look be more approving. Hell, I would chop wood and take hikes knowing that my beard and I were joined at the cheek. With this experiment now over, I take with me the joy of having been one of them. The non societal crusaders whose lust for finely trimmed facial hair was not met with disdain or prejudice. Now, all I need to do is get out of this non beard state and find employment in a non beard free zone in the comforts of a small home town. Somewhere in the woods. Near a hiking trail.
May the beard be with you.
I really need to get out of the house.
Ron Richardson: Yeah? Are you gonna make it all 220?
Jack Butler: Yeah. 220... 221, whatever it takes.
My decision to grow a beard was, I admit, driven by one part laziness’ and one part financially. The laziness’ was obvious. Every morning, I go to battle with the hair follicle’s that cover my face with musky smelling soap and a razor that holds five scalpel styles blades to do their work. Sure, there are always some casualties (nothing that a little toilet paper can’t heal), but morning ritual had grown stale. On the weekends I would teas my chin, not shaving until early Monday morning, giving my neck and cheek hairs some life before I mercifully hacked them down. Then, to add further punishment, I would dose them with a stinging after shave. They were not amused.
It was then, that the beard began to plot its revenge.
The beard has always wanted grow. Knowing that if I could just get through the awkward sandpaper and patchwork phase it would all work out (we won’t talk about the ‘grey’ phase). So, after conferring with the wife and kid, we all agreed to give it life. I felt reborn. I felt strong. I felt like I was giving back. The beard was all for it.
My immediate friends all had their initial opinions – from ‘must be not feeling well’, and ‘hasn’t he ever heard of Gillett?’ to ‘what the hell is that?’ and ‘is he trying to be a Civil War reenactment actor?’ but I’ll damn society and I’ll break the trend. The beard would not only enhance my fire side chat sweater but it would make me stand out amongst all the men. Goat-tees are trendy. Mustaches are too old school. And I mean like old school from the Normandy beach invasion days. Not for me.
So, the beard progressed. It became fuller and richer as did my attitude. “I am a real man” I shouted to myself, “I’m not afraid of growing a beard’. Other men sensed my cockiness and suddenly would change direction in aisles in stores or move over to another urinal.
But quite suddenly, the questions began. And just like any person who is on top, there are folks looking to knock them down. And they usually don’t have beards. I would hear things like ‘going hiking this weekend?’ and I would have to summon the energy to look at them, still with my confidence high and answer ‘no. I’m going to a butterfly exhibit with my daughter’.
Agh!
What was happening? I gave the beard life and it was now turning on me. For all the years that I sub consciously just butchered the follicles under my thought process of ‘routine’. I sensed the beard laughing at me and I needed to keep it under control. Other bearded men were on to my facade. Non bearded men still held me in esteem. I was caught in the middle. Like between an admiral beard (the big chin strap) and the Grizzly Adam’s (full on ‘can’t find your own mouth on your own face’ beard). I needed to make a decision. I could go out a buy real hiking boots and some flannel shirts or a new pack of Fuzion razors and some exfoliating soap. Me and the beard, well, we’re going to have it out.
So, the beard grew. And grew; and grew. Its fullness started to become a hazard. Its maintenance became all too consuming. Here I was giving my full beard its own life and it was starting to turn. The beard began to itch. It was at that point I dreamed about being able to scratch my face with my hind legs, like my dog, just to alleviate the discomfort; although if that were the case, I would never leave the house. I was now discovering food hidden away in tiny nooks and crannies of the beard map. The upkeep was now battling with the status, and I was growing tired.
Monday morning I wiped the steam off the vanity mirror and announced to no one in particular that I was ready to rejoin the beardless society. Ten minutes later, I surveyed the flotsam and jetsam that was floating in the pool and decided not to second guess. Too late for that! The five extra sharp Schick blades did their damage and soon I was just another guy mowing his lawn in the suburbs with white toilet paper clinging to his face. I was blending in. I was sad.
Maybe if I lived in a more rural surrounding like New Hampshire or even Colorado would my facial hair look be more approving. Hell, I would chop wood and take hikes knowing that my beard and I were joined at the cheek. With this experiment now over, I take with me the joy of having been one of them. The non societal crusaders whose lust for finely trimmed facial hair was not met with disdain or prejudice. Now, all I need to do is get out of this non beard state and find employment in a non beard free zone in the comforts of a small home town. Somewhere in the woods. Near a hiking trail.
May the beard be with you.
I really need to get out of the house.
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
The Unemployment Fifteen.
The Unemployment Fifteen is a title for several topics. First, it is my purpose to network with at least 15 new people this month. Second, it will be my determination to send out at least 15 resumes for the next month. And thirdly, I will do my best not to gain fifteen pounds sitting in front of this evil laptop eating M&M’s (plain) and cold pizza (plain again). My quest has for networking with new folks is kinda like standing on a long line at the grocery store, eagerly waiting for another register to open. It’s all about being tactful, maybe a tad restrained, then, when the opportunity presents itself, launching a personal salvo - ‘I’m unemployed, please, talk to me!’ At that point, they will either A) reluctantly talk with you or B) call the police. I always hope for A.
As for the resumes, I have sent out about five already so I am one third of the way to my goal. That of course does not include anyone who may have glanced over my resume on one of the many online websites that I have posted to. I should probably do an inventory of just where my resumes are (Me – No, I did not post my resume on the Mary Kay site; I think you may have the wrong number. Thanks though.).
And now for the last installment of the Unemployment Fifteen, this is about hopefully not gaining fifteen pounds. Listen, I know we’ve all been there. Sitting in a non ergonomic chair with bad lighting, breathing recycled air while staring at a bunch of Excel spreadsheets that make no sense, all the while getting the 1024 x 768 pixel tan while chowing down on vending machine Snickers and Mini Muffins; and don’t forget the cube walls that surround you with their awful sterile fabric that the manufactures’ assumed would make you more productive, right?
Well, it’s the same scenario except now, I’m home. Albeit, I’m sitting in a more comfortable chair and the windows are open, but the fridge is 14 steps away and it’s located carefully next to the microwave which sits above the coffee maker. And that is only to my immediate right. If I look to my immediate left, it’s the 46 inch flat screen TV with the remotes just sitting there on the couch cushions screaming, ‘Channel 570 is SportsCenter and it’s on right now! And it’s in High Def!!’ Ouch.
This might be the Universe hazing me (Me – Universe!! You and me, we’re not done here, you hear me?!?!).
I can get through this.
The Unemployment Fifteen is a title for several topics. First, it is my purpose to network with at least 15 new people this month. Second, it will be my determination to send out at least 15 resumes for the next month. And thirdly, I will do my best not to gain fifteen pounds sitting in front of this evil laptop eating M&M’s (plain) and cold pizza (plain again). My quest has for networking with new folks is kinda like standing on a long line at the grocery store, eagerly waiting for another register to open. It’s all about being tactful, maybe a tad restrained, then, when the opportunity presents itself, launching a personal salvo - ‘I’m unemployed, please, talk to me!’ At that point, they will either A) reluctantly talk with you or B) call the police. I always hope for A.
As for the resumes, I have sent out about five already so I am one third of the way to my goal. That of course does not include anyone who may have glanced over my resume on one of the many online websites that I have posted to. I should probably do an inventory of just where my resumes are (Me – No, I did not post my resume on the Mary Kay site; I think you may have the wrong number. Thanks though.).
And now for the last installment of the Unemployment Fifteen, this is about hopefully not gaining fifteen pounds. Listen, I know we’ve all been there. Sitting in a non ergonomic chair with bad lighting, breathing recycled air while staring at a bunch of Excel spreadsheets that make no sense, all the while getting the 1024 x 768 pixel tan while chowing down on vending machine Snickers and Mini Muffins; and don’t forget the cube walls that surround you with their awful sterile fabric that the manufactures’ assumed would make you more productive, right?
Well, it’s the same scenario except now, I’m home. Albeit, I’m sitting in a more comfortable chair and the windows are open, but the fridge is 14 steps away and it’s located carefully next to the microwave which sits above the coffee maker. And that is only to my immediate right. If I look to my immediate left, it’s the 46 inch flat screen TV with the remotes just sitting there on the couch cushions screaming, ‘Channel 570 is SportsCenter and it’s on right now! And it’s in High Def!!’ Ouch.
This might be the Universe hazing me (Me – Universe!! You and me, we’re not done here, you hear me?!?!).
I can get through this.
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