Notes from my desk cleaning - 2017

I find myself with a lot of time to clean my office.  These days, my unemployment days, I have perfected my schedule.  I wake, have coffee and breakfast, then hit the computer looking for work.  Some days I am lucky and find two or three jobs to which I can apply.  I update resumes and cover letters to match those chosen jobs and send off the applications.  Then, I wait.  This process usually takes until noon.  Time for lunch and then to wait to see if the applications actually took.

In the afternoon check my e-mail, usually auto-responses that my applications were received.  I print out that email and put that copy in my work seeking binder and note the company and job on my desk calendar.  Then, usually by 1:00 pm I am free.  I clean my desk and office, or go do some household chores, laundry, kitchen cleanup, yardwork.   That is my schedule, Monday thru Friday.  Broken only by phone calls and the occasional interview. 

During one of the desk cleaning days, I found some notes from probably 2006 or 2007.  I guess my wife and I took the kids to the local elementary school "country hoedown":

"Some of the children I had known since they were babies.  It is a beautiful thing to be able to watch them grow up.  There is a certain freedom in their play and ease of expression.

I also found a little quatrain.  I probably wrote this about the same time.  I noticed that it was getting more and more difficult to get moving in the morning.

'I'm sorry,' he said as he rose this morn,
An old body ached and worn.
The quickness, gone as fast as the years,
The friends, lost in death, as well as the fears."

Maybe I will use that in a poem some day.  Or maybe some thoughts like it.  Who knows?

 

Week 5, Day 1

The title says it all.  This lay-off is not as bad as the other two.  I have prospects.  I have had several interviews.  Several companies are interested.  I have had a lot of experience in my field and my resume has been updated to note that.  I am ready. 

And yet, my fate is in other's hands.  Other people are set to make the decision about my future.  Not the way I envisioned it at this point in my life, but so be it.  I shall be patient and see where that virtue takes me. 

I am ready again to devote the energies of my career to the next employer to hire me.  A new job will not have as steep a learning curve as my last one.  I am ready.  Just let me at it. 

Week One, Day Two

My  trip to the unemployment was not so bad.  I did most of the prelim work online so the lady there really just made some comments on my resume and sent  me home with a better and more clear idea of what to look for, how to search, etc.  

Not a bad morning.  She also told me to re-activate my Linkedin account.  I will.  I do not like Linkedin.  I had a recruiter contact me on Linkedin several years ago.  A stranger, out of nowhere.  It was clear that she was grasping at straws.  But she really had nothing for me.  It took me forever to shed that contact.  I don't know her.  But I think maybe the link is still there.  Anyway...

I also signed up for a social media for job search class through the Oregon UI department.  Tomorrow. More research, more fun. 

I am trying. 

Check in tomorrow for more fun news. 

D. 

Week One

This is the beginning of my first week being laid off.

7:15 AM - This Monday morning establishes my routine.  Get out of bed.  Wash face, head downstairs.  Breakfast, coffee, check up on news.  Not bad, I guess.

8:15 AM - Freshen Coffee.  Head upstairs with newspaper clippings.  Time to job search. First, reflect on what got you here.  I don't begrudge my former employer.  I was the lowest on the totem pole.  Least experienced in their system.  Work scarce.  Something has to go.  Wish it wasn't me.  What else could be done?
UPDATED 3:53 pm
8:30 AM - Write blog post.  Check.

8:45 AM - Get to work.  Check.

11:30 AM - Ready for my first interview.  They said they'd call.
11:35 AM - Still ready...  Check e-mail.  Did I miss something?  Maybe their conference room was booked. Panel interview.  Schedules got crossed?

11:37 AM - there it is.  Phone ringing.
 Hello....

11:40 AM - connection starts to get blotchy and staticky.

11:45 AM -  Call waiting beeps.  Another call coming in.  Really?

11:55 AM - Another call waiting beep.  Shut up. 

12:05 PM - Went well, I think.  Good conversation.  Wish me luck.

Time for lunch.  While fixing lunch the call waiting call comes through.  Some education facilitator wanting me to go back to school. He is going to switch me over to a recorded line.  Suddenly, I get two lines.  Him and some recorded sound track telling me about this, that and the other.   It is lunch time.  I have another interview this afternoon.  I need lunch and then I have to go to the other interview.  Geesh.  Sorry, Man, I am not interested. 

There are a lot of scams out there.  Find your dream job.  Sign up to apply and they want to charge you $19.95 for two months access to apply for that job and others like it.  Fahgeddaboutit!!!!
Good bye. 

1:45 PM - Second interview today.  Nice to be wanted.  Or that people want to talk to you.  No, we don't have anything that fits your needs.  We will keep looking tho'.  Thanks for driving a half hour to get here.

2:30 PM - At home.  Check e-mail.  Nothing.

3:00 PM - Sitting in my Jammies updating my blog.

3:45 PM - sitting in my jammies, sippin' on some suds, watching some inane stuff on the widescreen.  k

4:00 PM - Calling it a day.

Stay tuned to this page for Tomorrow's gripping tale of Dave's excursion to the unemployment office.  Or, as my cousin says, "the unenjoyment office."

D.

Blue Skies Ahead

Sometimes you wake to a glorious day.
A clear, azure blue sky with no blemishes,
'cept for the two white lines of travelers,
and the fingernail clip of a waning crescent moon..

Then, the news.  Like some belly punch
that takes your breath away, and wrenches and pulls at your core.
The news that, simply, we are all mortal,
and our struggles are as omnipresent as the clear blue, unblemished sky.

And then, a cloud appears, as out of nowhere, as God's reminder
that life is ever changing and nothing remains the same.

D. R. Normand

One-Way street - Metaphorically Speaking

I had a rough day a few weeks ago.  But I realized I am in a great place.  I have a job.  And I work across the street from a psychic palm reader, a pot paraphernalia shop, an art gallery, and a bar.   In less than one short block we have everything needed for all your spiritual refreshments.  Oops.  Sorry, no church.  That is back down the street on the right.  If you've come this far, you missed the church.  Kind of a metaphor for life. 

Did I tell you I work on a one-way street?  It is an interesting little town.  I like it.

A Story About My Friend

Just a little funny story about my friend - this is the way he told it.

When my friend, Bob, was a kid his dad drove a school bus for the county (this was in Montana).  During the summer he drove a truck across the state. Hauling hay, or other stuff.  Bob, being the oldest would always beg to ride along in the summer months.  His dad was always reluctant cause he didn’t want a kid slowing him down. 

When we went to Montana (2004 or 5), we stopped at a place called Philipsburg for lunch.  That is where Bob’s dad would drop the kids off to fish all day.  Drop them in the morning, pick em up in the evening. 

But anyway, one day his dad said come on.  Bob could accompany him.  Bob says he was about 9. Quite the adventure for a kid.  They left early one morning, right after breakfast. 

An hour or two later, Bob tells his dad he has to pee.  The way Bob told it his dad was not too happy.  He said that he makes money to take care of the family by driving and getting the job done.  Can’t waste time. 

Dad told him that if he really had to go he could step out on the running board and let ‘er rip.  Bob thought about it.  He really had to go.  Stood up, dropped his pants, opened the door, and stepped out.  Using one hand to hold on, he “let ‘er rip”.  Just stood there and went.   Driving on the curvy mountain roads.

Bob says he was surprised how easy it was.   But he wasn’t as surprised as the nuns he sprayed at the scenic overlook as his dad drove around the curve. 

D

A Walk on the Punny Side

Several years ago I worked in an office where everyone at break time would take walks in the parking lot.  It helps keep the blood flowing through the day.  One day my friend and I were walking.  About one hundred yards away I saw his car parked under a tree.  I asked him if he left his window down.  He said he didn't think so but he'd better check.  Break was just about over so as he went to check I went back to my desk.  Several minutes later, my friend came back to the office.

"Did you leave the window down?" I asked.

"No, it just looked down," he replied.

"Well, I hope you did something to cheer it up."

"Yes, I juggled some balls and told some jokes."

"Oh, a real 'glass' act," I said.

"Hey, that's funny.  You can go to a comedy club and 'win dough'," he countered.

"Naw, they'd see right through it," I replied.

Notes to self:

Drink a lot of water.

Shut off the computer and go DO something. 

Where is my phone?

Write more, talk less.

Drink water.  Whisky and ice.  Yes, ice is water.

Do we need anything from the store?

Where is my phone?

Why is the cat in my office?

Shut off the computer and feed the cats.

Geesh!   Duly noted.

DN.  

Oregon Coast, Lincoln City, Or June 11, 2016

A writer sits on a cliff overlooking the ocean on a mid-morning, some June Saturday.  A frenzied writer found a blank notebook page but could not find a pen. 

The beach, the waves, the people, the drone, all starting the day enjoying the beauty of nature.  Cumulus clouds in the distance off the coast, the white –topped cotton balls, the grey rain clouds below stand against a deep blue sky.  

The birds in the coastal bushes, the seagulls, all making music interrupted on occasion by the annoying crows cawing over some road kill back on the road.  

The beach is full of walkers this morning.  This cool, crisp, rainless morning.  Walkers, all on two feet.  No dogs today, although I have seen two cats back by the road.  Looking for birds, maybe?

The sound of the waves ever present, like the soundtrack of the beach, a never-ending, relentless symphony.  Mother Nature’s way of telling us that land is temporary in her great lifespan.  If she loses some, she’ll make more.  She is creative like that.

 

A group of seagulls are waiting on the beach.  Standing there on their two feet in a group.  Planning session on how to deal with tourists?  The group parts down the middle, the topic of discussion put on hold as they move to let the tourists pass.  It is a long, wide beach, the tourists could easily have walked around but humans like straight lines and can’t be bothered to change our course. 

Time

Sometimes things just get complicated. Tonight, I began to realize that time is slipping away. Oh, I always knew it was, but it was a faint knowledge, almost a subconscious knowledge.  But tonight I was open to the message.  There are pictures of my children hanging on the wall in my living room.  My son is frozen in time as a nine-year-old hanging from a zip line.  My daughter is frozen as an angelic four-year-old sitting in a pine tree in my parents backyard while her uncle snaps her picture.  My children, forever young. 

This weekend, my nine-year-old son turns 22.  And later this year, my four-year-old daughter turns 27. Where does the time go?

Recently, at work, a new co-worker sent around a picture of his newborn daughter announcing her entrance to the world. I responded with a hearty congratulations and I told him to enjoy and cherish each moment.  I believe that every new parent has heard the admonition that the moments are precious and must be cherished.  My wife and I heard them. But looking back, I wonder if we paid attention.  Or perhaps, it is just the intervening years that have clouded the memories of those little children, those bundles of joy. The laughing, smiling children.

A memory is a crazy thing.  Tonight I sit here and want to remember all the fun moments from my kids' lives.  But if wishes came true I would re-live every moment, and really, who has that kind of time?  I must be satisfied with the knowledge that the lives they lived, the memories they made, are theirs and theirs alone.  The people they knew and interacted with have made them into the caring adults that they are today. 

And tonight, the only advice I can give to them is cherish each moment.  Be there.  BE THERE in your life.  Seize the day. Accept and enjoy every moment, be it good or bad.  Good moments are great, but even the bad times, the low times, the boring times, teach us things about ourselves if only we have the strength to look and to learn.

Hello from Oregon

Today is April 16, 2016.  I am writing this from our new home in Gresham, Oregon.  A lot has happened over the past year and many of those events have lead to our current circumstances and living arrangements and conditions.  When I say "our", I mean myself, my wife, and my children.  My adult children.   Who we raised to be responsible adults, or at least know what it means to be responsible adults.  As a responsible adult myself, I take responsibility for my situation.  I will talk more about that later.

But let me state that this past year, these past twelve months, have been hell.  Into each life we see a great many people come and go.  Some friends and acquaintances simply move on to different lives, different experiences.  Some loved ones die, and leave us with our own miseries of broken hearts and tears.  I was not prepared for this year.

First, we lost a beloved brother-in-law.  Larry was a good friend, a good husband and grandfather.  He was a good person who we loved dearly.  It was a pleasure having him in our lives.  His unexpected death last April really hurt.  But God has His own plan.  We cannot know why.  He was too young, only 62.  God must have had His reasons.

And then, in June, I lost my job.  I was not smart enough to really convince my boss that he was not doing things the way the company wanted him to.  I think I really knew what I was doing in becoming an adversary to him.  I did not like working for him.  I hated his arrogance.  The fact that he couldn't communicate very well and we work in a field where that skill is somewhat important, well, perhaps it just really annoyed me.  But anyway, I am lucky to be away from that corporate life.  I hated all the BS politics.  And believe me, there was so much of it.

In October, we lost our dad.  Dad was in failing health but my sisters and I did our very best to take care of his needs.  We cooked him dinners and took him to appointments.  We helped him to be comfortable.  I know it was tough on him since our mom died three years ago.  But we tried to help him through it all.

In November, my brother died.  He had been fighting cancer and was winning but the cancer called in reinforcements and in the end my brother just could not fight it anymore.  My brother was a good man.  Years ago, after my wife and I got married, I hatched a plan to win the lotto and move all of my brothers and sisters into a family complex where we could all live together and be a family again.  That plan never came to fruition and I know now that it never could have.  We all had grown into each of our own separate lives and needed to make our own way in the world.  Truth be told, in adulthood my brother and I were not very close.  But at his funeral, I realized that he had become a much greater adult than I can ever wish to be.  And the truth is, I miss my Mom and Dad and my brother every day.

Such is life.  Every life has its own hardships.  And heartbreaks.  And loves.  And deaths.  Births  and losses.  We are human.  We endure.  This is what we do.  We pick up the pieces.  We trudge on.  We live.

At the middle of November, 2015, my health insurance ran out.  My severance ran out.  My wife and I were out of money and with very little prospects for our future.  Thankfully, during the week of Thanksgiving -- Yes, THANKSgiving week, I interviewed for a full-time permanent job out of state.  An offer was made and I accepted it.  I would start on January 4, 2016.  Hallelujah!!

But then, the fun began.  We had to sell our house and move to Oregon.  My son had saved some money and was ready to move to be closer to his sister.  So, he was ok.

My wife was reluctant to quit her job of 18 years but we just could not stay.  Wanting to be near me, with me, she elected to quit her job and we packed up our belongings and moved to Oregon.  My son and I left San Diego on Christmas Day and we drove to Oregon.  I flew down to SD on December 27th, picked up my wife and drove the same two day trip.  We arrived in Gresham, Oregon on December 28th, moved into our apartment on December 29th and began our new life.

So, there you have it.  Our new adventure in a nutshell.  With all the deaths, and job losses, and picking up the pieces, I have been fighting depression.  I thank God that I have my wife with me.  I would be nothing with out her.  I am so glad that we are on this adventure together.

A Bountiful, Blooming Breakfast

There were a bird, a bee, and a butterfly in our bougainvillea this morning.  I was enjoying my bountiful breakfast when I looked up and beheld this beautiful bouquet.

If you think this in an exercise in the letter "B", well, you better believe it.   What better way to start a blessed Sunday morning?

But, of course, it was a bittersweet moment, lost in it's brevity.  Too short to sing about, but long enough to start a thought, to inspire, to ponder.

This brief omen bodes well for a day blessed with beautiful moments.

D.

Paying the Tolls

Today, we laid my dad to rest next to my mom in the Holy Cross Cemetery in San Diego.  My dad died last week at age 85.  As you all know we lost our dear sweet mother four years ago tomorrow.  She was the sweetest lady we could ever know.  She died early in the morning.  We were at a loss for words and direction.  She was the one who we would call when we needed comfort.  We spent two and a half days in the Intensive Care Waiting room praying for her survival.  We knew it was a hard fight.  

We sat there with strangers, each sharing their own little pain.  Strangers with different lives as rich and deep as ours.  Loves, challenges, pains and memories.  Just as ours.  This is life.  This is what we do.

 

And, as I look around me today, I don’t see any strangers.  I see family.  I see all those people my mom and dad have touched, directly, or through the sweet lives they have influenced. My Mom married my Dad, a man strong in faith and beliefs.  They raised seven children and 15 grandchildren.  She looked after so many children in her 20+ years as a day care provider.  She has influenced a great many lives.  Look around you and you will see a face that has gazed upon my mother’s smile. 

After Mom died we went back to Mom and Dad’s house to begin our final arrangements.  I looked around the house.  The house is filled with pictures of favorite phrases.  “When there is love in the house, there is joy in the heart.”  “Welcome to our home, Here find peace and love wrapped in your arms.”  I am sure these were gifts, given to my mom because of those feelings that our house embodied.  She was a dear, sweet, kind woman.  

One of my earliest memories is of my mom, of course.  She was watching the JFK burial on TV.  My brothers and sisters and I were playing in another room.  My mom was in the kitchen crying.  

I also remember when I was a kid, probably about 10 or 11. I overheard my mother confide in an older lady friend of hers. My mom was worried about her newly developing crow’s feet and other assorted wrinkles that come along with age. My mom was wondering what there was to be done. This older woman announced to my mother that those were nothing to be afraid or ashamed of. Those wrinkles, or laugh lines as she called them, were a tribute to how much she enjoyed life. A tribute to how often she smiled and how popular she was.

 Some people call them "worry lines", some call them "laugh lines", whatever you want to call them, they make up who we are.  For my mom, they were both.  She worried about her kids, but she also laughed.  I remember one time we were having dinner.  The phone rang.  I was closest to it so I answered.  It was for mom.  She was sitting right next to me.  I handed her the phone.  She kept saying “hello…hello” but she said no one was there.  I reached over and turned the phone over.  She was speaking into the wrong end.  My mom laughed.

We are what life makes us.  We are what we become. Our experiences, our fears, our laughter, our smiles and our problems, they all take their toll on us. They all help to sculpt the lines of our face. 

Life took its toll on Mom.  She saw all of her children grow to responsible adults.  She saw the birth of 14 grandkids.  She took care of countless children in her day care.  But she was in a lot of pain.  She died way too soon. 

 

My Dad met my Mom on the first day of classes at American River College in Sacramento.  For him it was love at first sight, I think for her it took a little longer.  But on one of their first dates, this from Dad’s autobiography, there is a story that tells it all.  In those days Mom was living on a dairy farm a little ways up river from Sac.  Dad was going to take Mom to a friend’s house for dinner, then into town for a movie, not too late, Dad said, or they would miss the last ferry across the river and have to take the long way home.  Mom, said it might be kind of fun to take the long way home. 

Dad majored in some kind of engineering in college.  I think he minored in history.  He wanted to be a history teacher.  But kids kept coming along so he took jobs in refrigeration at a local ice rink and soon went into engineering.  My dad skated with Peggy Fleming at that ice rink – he was a professional figure skater.  During his Air Force years he played guitar.  He played several times at the officer’s club on base.  It was then that Carl Perkins asked him to join his band.  Dad declined.  I don’t think he wanted to be a rock star.

Dad took us to most of the corners of this country.  And, oh the places we’ve seen.  Our family started in Sacramento.  Because of allergies he moved us to Placerville, Ca.  And because of his work he moved us to Buffalo, NY and, again, because of work, to New Orleans, La. and eventually to San Diego, Ca.  In 1979, when my Dad’s contract expired in New Orleans, he moved the family to San Diego, Ca.  My brother had just graduated from college and he found a job in San Diego also.  My dad had a long career as an engineer until his debilitating stroke in 1995.  

My dad lived as long as he did mostly because of my mom.  She loved him.  She took care of him.  She made us promise to look after him.  And, Mom, for four years we kept that promise.  We got him to his doctor’s appointments, kept up his meds, tried to get him to exercise.  But time took its toll, as it always does.  Time caught up with my old man last week.  I think he got tired of us telling him what to do.  Mom called him home one last time.  

As a child, I remember Dad singing an old song from the 50's,  written by Stuart Hamblen, an old friend of John Wayne’s.  The song, “This old House” is a classic. Part of the lyrics go like this:

“This ole house once knew my children
This ole house once knew my wife
This ole house was home and comfort
As they fought the storms of life.
This old house once rang with laughter
This old house heard many shouts.
Now he trembles in the darkness
When the lightnin' walks about.

Chorus:

Ain't a-gonna need this house no longer
Ain't a-gonna need this house no more
Ain't got time to fix the shingles
Ain't got time to fix the floor
Ain't got time to oil the hinges
Nor to mend the windowpane
Ain't a-gonna need this house no longer
He's a-gettin' ready to meet the saints

On his knees he’s gettin' chilly
But he feel no fear nor pain
'Cause he see an angel peekin'
Through a broken windowpane
This ole house is gettin' feeble
This old house is needin' paint
Just like him it's tuckered out
But he's a-gettin' ready to meet the saints.
 
Chorus: 

This ole hound dog lies a-sleepin'
He don't know I'm gonna leave
Else he'd wake up by the fireplace
And he'd sit there and howl and grieve.
But my huntin' days are over
Ain't gonna hunt the 'coon no more
Gabriel done brought in my chariot
When the wind blew down the door.

Dad’s house just couldn’t keep his spirit no more. Gabriel done brought His chariot
When the wind blew down the door

And now he is at peace and with my mom. 

Learning to Walk

Today is another fine fall Sunday morning in Southern California.  I just woke up.  Still groggy from a good nights sleep, my wife and I got dressed to go for our early morning walk.  I, as always, reluctantly agreed.  It is a game we play.  She suggests a walk, I suggests I am too tired and we should just stay  home and take it easy.  I allow her to nag me to good health.  She feels good about nurturing and I feel good about the time spent with her.

So, still groggy, we step outside.  The "omen  crows" are making noise in the trees.  I told my wife I didn't want to walk because the crows were making too much noise.

"We are going," she said. 

I stopped to pick up the paper and put it on the porch.  Again, we start walking.  I said I was too tired.  It was then that I stumbled on a crack in the sidewalk.  I told my wife, "I'm not walking".

She said "Yes, you are.  You  need the practice."

I love this woman.

D.