Keepin' It Real

You may want to sit down for this one, because this one could get a little heavy.

From the moment I started writing a blog on my journey through unemployment, I’ve tried to be as honest as humanly possible.

(Of course, the blog is anonymous, so I guess I’ve managed to leave out one little detail.)

I’ve always tried to express exactly how I’m feeling through this miserable roller coaster ride, whether its a good day or a bad minute.

Well, this morning I am throwing a pity party and you are invited.

Let me cut to the chase.

I’m really starting to believe that I will never get a job again.

At least not a job in the industry that I called home for 25 years.

I’ve never asked for sympathy and I’m not about to start now, but I’m just expressing the sinking feeling that is on my mind this morning.

Whatever took place two weeks ago might as well be two years ago at this point.

Yes, that phone could ring at any moment, but I’m pretty worn out from the shoulda, coulda, woulda.

I feel like I’ve over-exhausted every contact I have ever made and over-used every resource that’s out there.

I've called. I've re-called.

I've emailed, I've re-emailed.

I even tried the "I think my internet was down, so I'm not sure if you got my last email."

This is getting old and I'm getting tired.

In a new HBO Documentary, Magic Johnson scored the greatest point of his career when he said he found out who his real friends were when became HIV positive.

He literally cried the entire time he was saying it.

The tears coming out of his eyes matched the ones coming out of mine.

I can't relate to his exact situation, but I can definitely relate to his point.

I have an incredible support system and a growing group of friends who have provided the real love that John & Paul used to write about.

I don’t think I’m special and I certainly don’t think that I am owed anything, but I know that I am really good at what I do.

Or actually, what I used to do.

I just can’t understand what happened.

Honestly, I don’t get it.

I wrote the first draft of this blog on a lined sheet of paper, standing in the dark in my kitchen, kinda like a suicide note.

WHICH IT IS NOT!

I still have plenty of lust for live, it’s just my career that is dead.

And it breaks my heart.

What did I do to deserve this?

What did any of my unemployed colleagues do to deserve this?

When I say that I am open to taking on a new job in a new field, I am being totally sincere.

I don’t need the glamour that TV provided.

I certainly don’t need the stress either, but I do miss being creative.

I love grocery shopping, I really do, but there’s not a lot of room for being creative there.

I don’t mind doing the dishes either, but I think I’ve mastered how to get the most items in one load.

The bottom line is, I want to work.

I love being a stay-at-home dad and all of the amazing opportunities that have come with it, but with every day that I am staying at home, I feel like a big part of me is disappearing.

I don’t have any regrets, well perhaps, I don’t have many regrets, but what I’ve learned is that living in the past can destroy you.

In a hurry.

The New Frontier

Early this afternoon, in the middle of my weekly therapy session, I got the alert that a new email arrived.

But this was not your normal email.

This was an email from the editor of businessinsider.com that my blog had just been posted on his website.

I had been waiting for about two weeks for this email.

Needless to say, the tone of the therapy session changed immediately.

Normally, I turn my off ringer during the 60-minute soul searching, but for some reason, today I did not.

I guess I know the reason now.

When I reached out to businessinsider.com, in addition to Oprah & Rosie, the New York Times & the Wall Street Journal (among others), I really didn’t expect any response.

After all, no response is what I have been getting plenty of during my long run as a member of the unemployed.

But unlike the others, I did get a response from the Henry, the editor.

He said that my blog was “interesting and often moving”.

Sounds like a compliment to me.

He also said he would publish my blog on his site -- a site that gets like two million hits per month.

The only person with more hits in a month than that is Snoop Dogg.

The opportunity to get published was something that I was VERY excited about. It was not as much about me as it was about my story.

I have spent the first 42 years of my life behind the scenes, literally.

For the last 25 years, I worked as a local, regional and national TV Producer, making the pretty people look pretty.

I was never looking for the spotlight and I am still not.

In fact, I have been writing this blog anonymously, under a nickname, “Sir Bacon”, given to me by six-year old daughter.

(P.S., I’m not sure what it means or where it came from.)

But today, my little blog about “My Journey Through Unemployment” took on a whole new level.

Within a couple of hours of being published, there were more than 10,000 hits.

To quote Seinfeld’s ex, Elaine Benes, “I am speechless. I am without speech.”

TEN THOUSAND PEOPLE took at least one second out of their life to read about my journey through unemployment.

I have always felt that my story was one that many people would connect with, but I never expected this.

I have spent more than a day in my life being cynical, so I was not surprised to read so many negative comments about my blog/my situation.

But as they say in the TV business, I don’t care if they like us or hate us as long as they watch us.

When I started writing my blog, I was doing it for me.

And I still am.

But the more I write, the more I realize that I am doing it for you too.

Well, maybe not literally you, but none of us have escaped this miserable recession. We all know somebody who has lost their job.

The opportunity to tell my story was therapeutic, for me, whether I was the only person to read it or not, but it didn’t take long for me to realize that it could be therapeutic for others as well.

Thank you to Henry for giving me the platform.

Thank you to you for traveling on my journey.

Driven to Tears

During the last 13 months, I have tasted pretty much every emotion on the unemployment menu, from “who cares” to “why me” and every side dish in the middle.

But only one time, has this grown man been brought to tears.

After one month of unemployment, I was lucky enough to get a little part-time job for a month, so I stopped filing for unemployment.

One month later, jobless again, it was time to re-file for the government’s goodies.

In my state, you can pretty much do everything online, except re-open a claim. To make that happen, all you have to do is talk to an agent on the phone, they ask a couple of questions and bingo, you are back on the list.

At least, it’s supposed to be that easy.

As you might expect, the unemployment office is a wee-bit overloaded. In fact, if you are not one of the lucky ones to get through when the phone lines open up at 7:30am, they don’t even give you the option of waiting on hold.

But they do give you a couple of very fancy recorded words of inspiration:

-- “try back in two hours”

-- “give us a call on a Thursday or Friday when we are not as busy”

-- “we know you are frustrated”

Well after days, and days, and days of not getting through, I finally reached my destination -- I was one of the lucky ones on hold.

I was willing to wait all day, if that’s what it took, because I was finally going to talk to a human being.

That sweet sound of hold music played like a symphony -- for 10 minutes... 20 minutes... 30 minutes and then at minute #35...

...Nothing.

N-O-T-H-I-N-G.

Nothing but my cell phone getting disconnected.

Are you kidding me!!!!!!

Getting laid off, after 25 years, made me upset.

Not being able to find another job, made me sad.

But getting disconnected after 35 minutes on hold, now that made me cry. I’m talking full-on waterworks.

I had finally reached my breaking point.

My one opportunity to speak to a real-life human being was gone and there was no way I was going to get through again that day.

Thankfully I found the energy to go through the same drill the next morning -- at 7:30am exactly.

This time I got through, and 95 minutes later, I was officially unemployed again.

Now that’s something to cry about.

"Checking In"

With those two little words -- “Checking In” -- on the subject line of an email that arrived at 7:18am, the tone for day was set.

When I was working, there would be days where it felt like I couldn’t go a minute without getting a new work email. Now, I go full days without getting anything. I’m even off the list of people to get their package enlarged -- if you know what I mean.

I used to look forward to seeing my voice mail light unlit, now I can’t wait for the phone to ring, even if it’s a telemarketer.

It’s hard to believe that people were only talking to me because of where I was and not who I was, but with each passing day, it’s becoming more clear.

Perhaps the most disappointing and discouraging part of this unemployment process is the lack of response from people I considered friends.

Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t expecting and am not expecting ANY kind of free meal and I certainly never expected somebody to hand me a job “just because we were friends”, but I didn’t expect this sound of silence.

I have joked with myself -- because no one else is listening -- that I should keep a list of all the people who have not had the courtesy of returning an email.

(Note to self: you have a project for tomorrow.)

Whether it’s passive-aggressive or courteous of just plain dumb, I have chosen to try and make contact with people via email instead of hitting the phone lines.

The last thing I want to do is cross that line of confronting a “friend” for a job and making them uncomfortable. I figured, everybody knows how to respond to an email these days.

I have certainly contacted many of my former colleagues to make them aware of my situation and at the least, I expected a response of “I will keep my eyes and ears open”, but in reality I have received pretty much nothing.

Recently, I sent out eleven different follow-up emails to friends in the business to say hello and see if they had heard anything. (Keep in mind that these eleven are just a fraction of a the hundreds I have sent out to others.)

A month later, here’s the tally.

Two people responded -- including one, who my father once hired for his “big break” and a friend who I used to work with, who now is the top executive in his company.

Response #1 (from my dad’s friend) was basically: don’t call me, i’ll call you.

Response #2 (from my friend) was thanks for the update.

That would mean that the other nine “friends” couldn’t find the time to respond. I would’ve taken a “Thank You”, “Screw You” or anything in the middle, but in the end, I got nothing.

Hey, there’s always tomorrow.

The Journey to Unemployment

January 1, 2010

Today is the first day of the new year, the first day of the new decade and hopefully the first day of a new life.

I enter 2010, like one of many million Americans, whose office door was slammed in my face, through no fault of my own, leaving me unemployed and unhappy.

There are a lot of ways to fight back, but in the best interest of sanity (and staying off the top 10 most wanted list), I am taking a different approach -- writing a daily blog.

This desire to express myself has been burning inside of me like a forest fire from the moment I was told, over the phone, 13 months ago, that my services were no longer needed.

For me, it took a $1 movie rental to help me find my way. I’m not sure that “Julie & Julia” will ever make its way into my DVD player again, but to see how one person’s choice of expression inspired her was enough for me.

Unfortunately for you, and me, there will be no Beef Bourguignon on this blog, but the recipe here is to connect with you, as I take this unpleasant journey through unemployment.

This blogesphere is a brave new world for me, but one that will hopefully be very therapeutic. The opportunity to say what I want, when I want, how I want, is one that I am very much looking forward to doing.

I am a 42-year old father of three who has accomplished a tremendous amount in my 25-years in the working world. I have been honored several times with national awards that “really didn’t matter to me”, until I won of course.

I am just as motivated as the first time I walked into the workplace, but to find that workplace doesn’t want me anymore and that the people I once called friends won’t respond to me anymore is what really hurt.

With so many new colleagues in this same broken down boat, I am hoping we can keep our head above the water until the Coast Guard arrives, and stay motivated to find the new world of happiness.

For some of us, that may someday mean a return to the industry that we have called home for most of our life. Even if that industry has left us battered and bruised, like an abused spouse who can’t manage to leave the comfort zone of their battleground home.

For others, it may just mean a new world. A new job. A new industry or perhaps, just a new direction.

On this, the first day of the new year, I am joining a new year’s day movement that is more deep in tradition than watching the Rose Bowl Parade -- I am making a resolution -- to write a blog.

Welcome to my new journey. I hope you enjoy the ride.