Shall I Run Away?

Too experienced, and too expensive to hire, and far too young to go on Social Security. That’s me. Is that a euphemism or a fact? Companies are “gun shy” with the economy. They only want to move on sure things and/or people, especially those that fit in a box. I’ve been told that after one year, I’m no longer changing my career. No. I’m now re-entering the workforce, as though I’d taken time off to raise kids. I need more skills! I need certification! It’s extremely frustrating.

I’m half-thinking of running away. Let the bank handle the mortgage, and just run away for a little while. By getting out of the area that I’ve lived in for virtually my whole life, I might get a new perspective. I could find out what interests me, or for what and whom I need to be grateful, or I could find out … nothing. I’d much rather think it would be a new beginning.

You see. The fact of the matter is, if I left tomorrow, very few people would really miss me much at all. They live their lives. And I really haven’t. I’ve pretended, and I’ve survived my life so far. I worry about it, and at it. Live it? I think I’d like to, but I honestly find it hard to imagine what it could be like – in a good way. In a bad way, I can come up with way too many scenarios!

In my career search the questions keep coming up: what do you love? What inspires you? What do you want to do? Replace all those “what”s with a “who,” and the answers are the same. There are some folks that I really depend on to keep me going. One, I’ve depended on for years. And bless her heart, she still takes my calls.

I keep thinking…. maybe a change of place, a change of circumstances and a change of people,… and maybe, just maybe, it would kick me into gear. Of course, my head would be coming with me, so I’m not at all sure that’s the right plan! Lol.

No wonder people make themselves sick, and then, die. It takes the matter right out of their hands! I used to live that way. I’m not doing that any more. So now, I’ve got to come up with an alternate plan. Running away is only one.

Bread Line NYC 2010

Yesterday, when I saw the great mass of people lined up waiting to go where I was going, I blurted, “Good Grief! It looks just like a bread line!” A woman in line shouted back at me, “That’s because it is!” Thankfully, it wasn’t the Great Depression kind of bread line. Food was not being given out. The bread that caused people to show up was money. This massive grouping of humanity was caused by a simple job fair. O.K. It had been advertised to the entire metropolitan area. However, it was, still, simply, a job fair.

I had gone because my career counselor thought it would be good for me. The excursion’s purpose was to help push my own job search into high gear. She wanted me to see what was on offer, who were the companies, ask questions, find out what kind of skills/people companies wanted to hire, and finally, to see how people dressed and what they said. The afternoon was fascinating on several levels. Why? Largely, because of the parallels I drew to the Great Depression. It was also rather a fiasco, but I’ll get to that later.

It’s a different time, different people from that America in the 1930s. Why am I calling this line leading to the job fair a bread line? Because, there were startling similarities. Also, there were major differences that emphasized the cultural changes which have occurred in the past 50 years. The Great Depression was a time of great economic deprivation, and of the Dust Bowl that forced a migration of thousands of people. (Today, it would be millions – except there’s really no where to go.) The whole country lived off of its newsmakers. Not so different from today.

Unlike the old bread lines, nothing was offered freely except admission, yesterday. Whatever you gained, you had to earn. However, before you got to the action, you had to wait. It took a good 10 minutes for me to find the end. The line stretched from the entrance of Madison Square Garden, to the corner of 7th and 31st; turned the corner, going all the way to 8th Avenue; and then, stretched back almost all the way to 33rd Street where I got on the line. That was a little after 2 p.m. Luckily, it was a beautiful Spring day. I got through the line to the job fair doors at 4:15 p.m. somewhat dehydrated, and vaguely delirious! Yes, two hours later.

The job fair was jammed. There were more, very long lines inside! The U.S. Census was there, along with US armed force recruiters looking for cannon fodder. Most of the names were business schools or employment agencies. The actual number and caliber of jobs were small and low level. The fair was held in a concrete-floored room with all the charm of a public toilet. They also had one of those, too, thank goodness!

After such a long wait, the fair was a disappointment. It was also very depressing. The sheer number of people looking for work was a sobering reminder, how truly recessed our economy is. When you are alone, you only see your own struggle. It’s rare to see the sheer number of other people who are “out there” and looking – just like you.

The similar parallels to the bread line are simple. First, there’s the obvious - a huge line of people waiting on a sidewalk to get in the door for “bread.” Next, most people in line refused to make eye contact with anyone, almost as though they were ashamed to be in this line. Third, all the people were eerily silent. There was almost no talking between folks. Fourth, everyone was amazingly patient. It became an endurance test of standing, and waiting. It’s not just the strong who survive. It’s those with the best bladders! And yes, we actually shuffled. It’s impossible not to when you’re in a line. And, in the end, it just wasn’t fun.

The differences between lines from the 1930s to 2010, were mainly cultural. First, because it was a job fair, everyone was very well dressed and groomed. We were a good looking bunch! Next, there were men and women. Third, because the event was co-sponsored by AARP, the age range was extremely broad. Fourth, there was a mix of races which in the 1930s would be unimaginable. And, in the end, when the silence got to be too much, most people hauled out their phones. However, most conversations were short and abrupt. No one wanted to be there.

I sincerely hope I do not go to another job fair. The effort really outweighs the reward! Not only standing in line, but also the time and cost of just getting to the job fair. A gentleman in the line behind me, said he’d been to one at Giant’s Stadium, where there were so many people – there was no parking. So, he left.

I’ve decided to use the power of positive thinking. The economy has turned around. More and more jobs will be created as the days go by. The strategies that do not work will be abandoned. And the job fair will become extinct. All my co-job fair attendees will soon be working in their desired fields, and getting the wages they deserve.

There’s such a thing as repeating the past. I’d rather not! Nor do I wish it on anyone else!

There Was A Tree .... There.

A lot of people in the northeastern United States – well, those who aren’t flooded out of their houses – are experiencing the above phenomenon after the most recent nor’easter. There was a tree there. In some cases, it’s the plural. And. Well…..They’re just not there anymore.

It’s a very strange feeling when you lose a grown tree. It’s like a visible piece of your world has disappeared by magic. Irrationally, it just doesn’t seem to matter that you know exactly how it came down. Or that its down fall was due to a soaked ground and a massive wind. Not having the tree where it’s always been, is very strange. The missing tree really leaves a gap in your world. You can feel rather exposed. I know I do.

In my case, the tree was a major psychological buffer between my apartment and the harsh condominium lights from the building on the other side of my neighbor’s lawn. Especially in the summer with its full foliage, I could pretend the other condominium wasn’t there so much. Since being unemployed, my tree had become a steady companion while I did my morning writing. I’d watch the sunrise light up its branches. I'd watch the birds coming and going, and squirrels chasing each other all over it. When the mulberrys were ripe, it was fun to watch the squirrels fighting each other and all manner of birds for branch space, barely hanging on.

Now, I wonder if “they” can see me in my apartment at night, or early in the morning. (This is assuming, of course, that "they" care!) I find myself making sure the blind is down more often now in my living room. It’s not that I’m doing anything remotely interesting. However, I do spend a lot of time in there. Talk about self-conscious. Oy. And, too, any time, I glance through the window, I’m startled by the tree’s absence. The view seems much harsher.

Needless to say, one of my priorities, aside from getting a livelihood, is to have a new tree put in! I’ve even offered to pay for part of one, so that something more than a tiny sapling will be purchased. Silly? Perhaps. Though I think of it more as an investment in my perceived privacy and feeling of security – not to mention, my early morning entertainment!