Lousy Bum

"You're hired."

2009-08-07T02:19:00.000-07:00

Well, I was planning on writing a lengthy rant this coming Saturday, titled "One. Fucking. YEAR." and then likely bitching in tune to and in time with my favourite music of the current moment, but I actually got a job a few days ago, and start this coming Monday. I am going back to construction, but the company seems pretty okay, and the two owners appear to be decent folk. The pay is not nearly what this position would witness just a few short years ago, but right now A Job Is A Job Is A Job. I shant complain, not after 363 straight days of financial instability that shall possibly be a bit alleviated, at least temporarily. I'm going to celebrate by saving up as much god damn money I can, and, just because I want to do my part to help along the ridiculously non-balanced consumer-debt driven economy, will soon place an order for Cliff Bordwell to build me a bass not unlike this example:

So, this will be my last blog here but it was fun while it lasted I suppose, and I hope that anybody reading it learned something, at the very least just how often I can swear at inanimate objects. If/when I find myself under untimely unemployment once again I shall start things up post haste, but hopefully it will be a long time before that happens. Who knows? Don't forget to visit my other rantsite Ugly and Swearing in the meantime.

You know what? Fuck all that. I can't just close it out saying "'k bye, gonna buy a new bass now lolol," because I really have learned a few things over this past year. First, I don't care about your feelings of job security, in economic times like these nobody is secure in their employment, and while you don't want to live your life in fear, I am VERY FUCKING GLAD that a little personal foresight combined with my wonderful domesticated situation with a frugal womanlifemate allowed the two of us to get through an entire year without having to make any drastic changes in our lifestyle. We had a backup plan if things got really bad, but thankfully we didn't need to resort to cashing out saving and retirement funds, moving, or selling something huge like my soul, vehicle, or manhole. Granted, we got pretty damn cheap a few times (and by "a few times" I mean "CONSTANTLY"), but we still had some fun spendy holidays, a vacation or two, and even ate out at restaurants more than I assumed we'd be able to, which translated to Once A Month instead of the Never that I expected. However, although I was already well on my way toward Responsible Spending when this whole escapade brought itself so unwelcomed upon my face, this misadventure really has taught me about the value of money and just how fleeting it might easily be. We're going to be taking a more serious look at buying a house now, but I doubt that I will ever forget this experience (at least until I grow senile, if I'm fortunate enough to make it that far), and my lifestyle has been permanently adjusted to a way of being that may not involve a terrible amount of Instant Gratification, but will hopefully limit our stress while still enjoying life at the same time. Virtue is its own reward? Well hopefully not that far, but something similar when it comes to things wallet I suppose.

I'm still going to buy that bass though. In a few months. Maybe.

GIVE ME A FUCKING JOB.

2009-07-29T02:44:00.000-07:00

This will likely not make any sense. You have been warned.

This is ridiculous. Why are able bodied people being told "no, sorry, you want to be a slave to a paycheck, and that benefits everybody involved including yourself, the employer, the community, the city, the state, and the government, but we DO NOT WANT YOU." What the fuck is going on? Oh sure, I've looked for jobs in the past and occasionally after 10 to 20 applications being sent out only one or two will respond, but during those times I either 1) got work quickly, or 2) already had a job so was just trying to change my life a bit. These days, oh no, things are quite different. The length of jobs applied for has grown to insane proportions, and I've gone on FOUR FUCKING INTERVIEWS. Four! Not fourteen, not forty, no. Four. FORE!!!

This fucking blows. This fucking blows goats. This fucking blows rabid goats. This fucking blows ugly rabid goats on a hot summer day. I'm also currently (hopefully temporarily) getting jerked around on my unemployment checks, which by the way equal exactly 30% of my former salary so no, let's not pretend that I actually ENJOY having had to cut back 70% of the money aspect of my lifestyle over the past fucking YEAR, hmmm? Well then, now that that has been stated thusly, it's time to move on to something more enlightening:

FUCK YOU JOB MARKET.
FUCK YOU CALIFORNIA.
FUCK YOU WASHINGTON.
FUCK YOU CAPITALISM.

Maybe since I've been personally kicked in the nuts by all this mess I see it as worse than it really is in the overall picture, but I still do not see ANY improvement to our current situation unless drastic change is enacted. So far, it hasn't happened. We have not witnessed the giant US Bank building in LA being demolished. Gas has not run out in any corner of the globe. GM has not ceased to exist. Obama has not gone on TV pleading the gathered masses to stop killing anyone in a 3-piece suit. Useless celebrities with no talent have yet to be crucified and fed to their own fans. Will it really take such things for Real Authentic Change to occur? To my 3am wired mind, I say yes. Here's to waiting.

Best Chance: FAIL

2009-07-23T19:29:00.000-07:00

So after almost a full year now, I finally got an interview with a place that is nearly identical to businesses that I worked for from 1999 until 2008. Even the position was the same. Field: construction. Trade: masonry. Position: estimator. I can't lose this one, right? Wrong. Alas! It took this long to even find an opening in my exact job description, and even then it didn't come together. Depressing? No, not really. This is reality. This economy can suck it. Anyone who thinks otherwise is wrong. Take your green shoots and shove them up your arse. That's right, I'm getting violent. Well, verbally so, although that little threat likely fell on no ears, especially those whom which it would actually matter, such as the stupid Fed and their idiot cheerleader squad as championed via the Mainstream Media.

So, what shall I do? Continue sucking off the unemployment rolls it would seem. Hey, it has paid my billz up until this point, for how much longer I have no idea. I honestly can't imagine what any debt slaves that are in my position are doing right now. Oh wait, yes I can, I see it every day. They are losing their homes, cars, toys, and sanity. Do I mock those who overextend themselves? Yes, yes I do. Does that mean I wish upon them the mental anguish as associated with such trying times? No. Well, for the most part anyhow. These days are flat out unfair to the overall populace who, though many got in far too over their heads, allegedly live in this Free, Advanced Society where opportunity as seen through the light of Regular Jobs should not be difficult, or at least not impossible, to retain throughout one's normal existence. But we've seen this all before, time and time again. Why? I still cannot get a straight answer as to why Made Up Money (and yes, it is complete make-believe) works certain years, doesn't others, and then pulls randomly timed 180 degree shifts in any chaotic direction it pleases whenever the hell it wants to. Who is in control here? It certainly is not the general population, no matter how many faux elections they let us "participate" in. Is it the government? Possibly not even them, as witnessed by certain failures across the years (notably the USSR but more recently places like Iceland). Some small group of cigar smoking zillionaires? Probably. The strings of billions are yanked by the hands of 3 old, ugly, disgusting men sitting around a fire in what appears to be a Sartre play, but is so much more serious and deadly. Who the fuck are they? Why do we put up with them? Someday they shall pay for what they've done? Unlikely.

Despair

2009-06-22T16:30:00.001-07:00

No, not the Nabokov novel, though that is swell indeed (and not nearly as depressing as I assumed it would be), rather I speak of the feeling of hopelessness that one can succumb to at times of utter, well, despair. Yes yes, I understand that there is nothing I can do to help the current global economic collapse (outside of digging myself into debt like The Fed so desperately wants us all to do at this point), other than go through the motions of applying for jobs that dried up ages ago yet continue to rot like so much bad fruit on the Monster.com vine. So, as a realist to this entire situation, the feeling does not hit me very often, but at this current moment, I'm a bit depressed. My second unemployment extension is set to start within just a few short weeks, and while my billz are very thankful to have that wee stipend to help stave them off until the next month, it is a continually discouraging feeling that no, I am not in control of my immediate, let alone far away, financial future. Granted, after almost an entire year spent Without Job we are in a lot better shape that I thought we would have been when It First Hit The Fan, but that does not mean things are peachy keen. Not even close. So, here are some words of encouragement for anyone finding themselves in a situation similar to my current mental instability concerning the whole mess:

Things are still going to get worse.

All this crap about late 2009 seeing the end of the recession, housing bottoming out, government stimulus jobs coming out the wazoo, and other lies, are, like I just stated completely factually, lies. The root of the current economic problem is housing, and housing has a long way to go before it comes back, or even stops shitting itself to some degree. Since myself and Ze Woman are currently getting in the mood to buy a house (yes, even without me working, how smart is that?), I've been doing even more research than usual about such things, because apparently even though construction left me hanging in the lurch last year, I still cling to it for at least some form of daily entertainment. There are deals in the cheaper housing areas right now, a lot of them even. But in the mid-range to upper? Nothing doing. Yet. However, the days of looming Alt-A / Option ARM resets are coming (Google it for more information), and this will send additional shitwaves through the system that has already been wracked by the subprime mess. That means more job losses, lower home prices (by the way this is a GOOD THING because housing is still TOO EXPENSIVE), and all the other associated crapola we have had to deal with since early 2006.

Of course I think things currently are much worse than any of the powers that be are letting on, what with the banks that should have failed a year ago still being propped up by future tax dollars. We were told the bailouts would Fix Everything, but in reality they were nothing more than tools in order to Buy Time in hopes that things would Get Better on their own. They haven't, so either more bailouts are in store (while people will still stand for them), or perhaps Oblammer will be honest with the world and say "yeah, shits all fucked up," allowing the Zombie Banks to fall on their collective faces, allowing some form of new system to rise up from the stinking ashes. Not that he is the only that has to, as it seems nearly every other country in the world is equally fucked than the US, if not more so. We just happen to the be largest zit on the forehead. Either way, the current state of Almost Done is all bullshit, and we're in for a much deeper storm than most people let on.

Although it's not as though I've given up hope, no no. In finding a job soon sure, I continually doubt that will happen anytime soon, especially since the last time I got my hopes up for just that I went into a prolonged funk, but as for the fate of the overall populace? We'll be fine. Eventually. I'm not nearly as pessimistic as I was about this even 6 months ago, if anything I think this Great Downsizing may be seen as a Good Thing someday in the far future. I'm certain that the world will get through this and come through stronger, because we shall, for the first time in 75 years or longer, be able to shrug off that horrible spectre of Perpetual Debt, either by force or perhaps just by finger. Well, unless peak oil hits us in the face before somebody comes up with a viable alternative that is. Because if oil dries up before that, everything will be solved by mass extinction of the human race. Whee!!!

Néw Résumé Tímé

2009-06-18T13:50:00.000-07:00

Shortly after last night's decision to get a little creative, I think I went gonzo and typed a multiparagraph tirade in lieu of a traditional resume. I have not sent this to anyone yet, and depending on my judgment/sanity at the time of next New Job Search, I may decide to just keep plugging away at my old, boring, practical one. Not sure yet. So anyhow, here is my 4am whatever from earlier this morning shortly before losing what was left of my ability to comprehend reality for the day. Enjoy.

To Whom It May Concern:

I am hoping that this is not the typical resume that you see day in, day out. If this has been done before then alas, but I never thought I was a terribly original person anyhow. I'm not going to give you a specific breakdown of the various schools and employers forced to deal with me over the years, but instead I shall prattle on aimlessly in hopes of catching someone's attention where my usual resume has failed, or at the very least bring a smile to your face for but one fleeting moment.

My professional history is simple. In high school I was a tutor, then I got a job at the local K-mart so by the time I hit college I could buy a car. Something cheap, but not necessarily explosive in nature. Once I hit the years of higher eduction, K-mart was wearing thin, so I did what all the fancy kids do and found myself a nice, boring office job. That worked just fine for years. In fact I even stayed with the same boring office job once I finished my Bachelor of Arts because hey, they were pretty decent folk and the pay kept increasing the more I did what they told me to do. Anyhow, so after quite some time at that same place, I moved on to another very similar job because they offered me the world, and by the world I mean a nicer salary and more laid back atmosphere, two things that don't often combine but sure did sound sweet to me. What I didn't know is that “laid back” really meant “laid off” after only a year or so, and here I am, fruitlessly stuck collecting unemployment checks as I desperately search for jobs that seemingly no longer exist.

My personal life is needlessly complex, but uneventful to the point of sheer boredom to anyone not immediately part of it to a vast extent. I shall summarize it briefly by saying that my two main hobbies are writing and music. I write a lot, I read a lot, I listen to and play a lot of music. I wish I had more time to devote to all of that. I wish I got paid to do what I love, but unless I'm sending this to Rolling Stone or perhaps to some huge record label alongside my band's latest demo album, the chances of that are slim. Oh, and one quick aside, I am a long haired male. For whatever reason this image-based society deems me a biker, drug addict, or some other form of unkempt individual, but I assure you that I am none of those things.

Well I think that about wraps it up. Oh, you might be wondering what field I was part of for 9 years, or perhaps what specific school or subject in which my BA degree was procured, but really, does it matter? If so, and you've read this far into this whole mess, odds are I have piqued your interest enough to warrant a phone call (if anything perhaps just for a stern talking-to), and I will be glad to discuss any specific details you would like to hear about at that time.

Sincerely,

Adrian Smith

I'll probably only send it to potential writing jobs, but hey, maybe somebody else in a Boring Office Job that nobody cares about may sympathize and grant me pity employment.

Time to get creative.

2009-06-17T23:31:00.000-07:00

Well this got stupid a long time ago. Nobody pays attention to when I apply for a job, so unless it is simply a case of hundreds upon thousands of similar applicants flooding away at anything they see, I need to make some changes to hopefully pop out to anyone reading my (sometimes) ample qualifications. So, I have decided to include the following sentences peppered throughout my work and education history within my resume:

"Built up an alcohol tolerance of extraordinary magnitude."

"...getting the short end of the stick with an unexpected pink slip after being wooed to go work for a new company with my old boss."

"...making sure the dishes are cleaned before fiancée returns from work..."

"...driving all over Southern California in an attempt to launch music career that has little hope of succeeding..."

"...losing sanity over mundane existence."

I'm also considering inserting random swear words just for kicks. Let's see if anyone is paying attention, hmm?

$95

2009-06-16T00:55:00.000-07:00

Not counting unemployment checks and bank account interest, that is how much money I've made since losing my job. I used to make $95 before lunch on a daily basis. Scratch that, I just did the calculation, I used to make $95 just after 10:30am each work day. Wow. That is far too depressing a statistic to continue on this current blog-path. Think I'll go hang myself, or at least visit http://www.freetetris.org/ for a spell. Gone.

Okay nevermind, after the initial shock of that horrific exercise in wallet-sized mathematic discovery, I'm back. Didn't even get a single round of Tetris off even. Why? Because that number really doesn't matter. No giant burden has unleashed itself unto my household since last August, and even what few moneyfights The Woman and I have succumbed to have been brief at worst. Well okay, I think with one I ended up waltzing out the door off to the hills for the majority of the night, without my cell phone of course because yes I'm Just That Mature, but that was an isolated incident. Generally speaking, I'm probably a happier person these days, regardless of the fact that certain months we barely squeak by with Them Billz, because money is only a tool to be utilized when able, nothing to get chained down by when not.

So. $95. More than 10 months. No temp jobs, no great musical escapades, nope. Just a handful of freelance writing assignments, obviously few and far between. I stopped hearing from numerous job applications in any way, shape, or form months ago. Hopefully they'll keep pumping my mailbox with unemployment benefits as this Economic Recovery begins to take hold. Just kidding. There is no recovery. Not for years. Wait and see.

$80,000

2009-06-06T01:52:00.000-07:00

So I just did a quick calculation on how much money I've "thrown down the terlit" by renting since moving out of my parents' abode in the year 2001, with the total residing somewhere in the land of $80,000. Adding property taxes, home repair, HOA fees, general upkeep, and interest to the fold brings the total to... $80,000. Yeah, you like that, idiot. Oh sure I never got a sweet mortgage deduction tax credit, but then again, come on people, do the fucking math: getting $10k back from the IRS doens't mean squat if it cost you $40k in various payments to them in the first place. Yes, it's better than the paltry $60 renter's credit I used to qualify for (and might once again this year, hooray!), but still. Not that great of a deal really. So even though obviously my own job security is 100% guaranteed in that I'm not currently working, every several months I start taking a serious look at buying a house. Hey, I still live in dwelling that, during normal economic times, is an UNSTOPPABLE STRONGHOLD OF DUAL INCOME, so why not shop around at least? Because those days shall return. Someday. Hopefully.

I've been reading articles lately that discuss how the low-end of the housing market has returned to reality, but the mid-range stuff is still ridiculous, and finally the high-end rests up in some corner of the globe known as Who Gives A Fuck. After several days worth of research, I must concur that this is correct. There are deals right now. A lot of them. I've found all kinds of starter homes in the $50k to $90k range, which, while not in the nicest of areas, are plenty affordable for a whole lot of people (nearly including myself, sorta). Unfortunately, in the area where I live and would like to remain for the time being, housing is still foolishly Stuck On Stupid. Down the street from us I have watched a pad sit there motionless for nearly 6 months, beginning with an asking price of $375k, quickly dropping to $269k, and now settling at $229k. Still motionless of course, still too expensive. Similar properties are the same. While I won't get into the Pending Alt-A Madness waiting just 'round the corner, I do know that if I want to buy in this area, I will have to wait for that other shoe to drop. Granted, with a huge hospital close by there are a shitload of doctors and nurses in this area so I don't ever expect all the nice joints to go for way cheap here, at least anytime soon, but good deals are certainly looming. Someday. Hopefully.

So, since I "wasted" $80,000 already, what's another several grand over the next year or so? Not a whole lot in the grand scheme of things (oh so punny!), and for the time being, especially given my continuously jobless ways, I'd much rather sit on any extra money I still thankfully have rather than plunking it all into a downpayment that is just as likely to disappear before escrow closes than actually speed along the process. Oh sure, I could have paid cash for a cheap house right now if I lived with my parents over the last 8 years, completely demolishing my pride, sanity, and sex life all at once, but even looking backward I still don't consider that to be the smartest of all possible options. I do think a few stupid mistakes I made were purchasing two brand new vehicles, one before finishing college and another just 2 years later, along with running up about $10k worth of credit card debt at one point, but blowing money on a rented domicile or three is not something I consider a mistake. In this country, few have the luxury of living under a free roof. It's just how things work, unless of course we all go back to happily living in caves, after realizing the utter folly that mankind has truly become. Which eventually we just might do. Someday. Hopefully.

Ten Freaking Months

2009-06-05T13:24:00.001-07:00

Well, technically that milestone shall not become breached until Monday, but at 1:30pm on Friday I somehow doubt that I'll be getting any Magical Job Phonecalls for this next workweek's 8am. Hey, just because I'm trying to be Mr. Musician doesn't mean I'm not still looking for regular work. I have no problem going back to losing sleep in order to fulfill my creative side if Real Honest Work takes up 40+ hours per week, I did that for years without much issue outside the periodic bout of sleep-deprived insanity (which honestly, sometimes I enjoy a little bit). Fact is, probably 78.932% of musicians I consider My Heroes have normal day jobs when they aren't busy cultivating their soul's life requirement, because unless you make The Big Time, that is pretty much how things go. Note: I'd rather get paid strictly for music-based work, and that is my current goal, but if it doesn't pan out it's not like I'm going to quit playing. Which brings me to this recent discovery:

The album is called Transmutations by the post-core / jazz group Yakuza, and wow is it amazing. I listened to it once several months ago but forgot about it, then last night stumbled upon a great article about the Working Stiff aka Starving Artist during this current recession which featured Bruce Lamont from the group, and got to a re-listening. Once again I just casually tossed it on in the background, but a little beyond halfway through the album it caught me unawares and I sat there staring at the stereo waiting for what word of wisdom it would spew forth next. Oh sure, everybody loves albums with great a lead-off track, but sometimes it's really fun when the strong stuff is left for the tail end of things, perhaps to whittle out the nonbelievers and only grant the real cheese to those truly paying attention. This is not an album for most people, but if you prefer your rock n' roll a bit more adventurous, or maybe you're an old jazzhead looking for the next natural progression of things instead of growing endlessly tired of your genre being taken over by muzak, perhaps this would make a proper avenue to explore.

So here I am in the double-digit land of monthly unemployment, with the real rate hitting 16.4% as announced today, albeit seemingly slowing down from the utter catastrophe it was becoming just a short while ago. In other words, things are still getting worse, just not as quickly. I still do not expect any great changes to anyone's overall jobless condition, simply because I do think we have reached a turning point in this world, and yet I still wait for someone of public importance to stand up and say: "the old ways have failed, we must now move on to this Great New Thing." Until that happens, the gradual slide shall continue. Bring on the Amero!

The Calling

2009-05-29T03:06:00.001-07:00

Some people hear it, others may never heed its word, still fewer will answer it properly. I do believe that many, if not every, persons on the earth have a specific purpose to their existence. No, I'm not going to get religious because while everyone should be able and willing to believe what they want, I think that crap is all a bunch of hooey. That being said, we all have a calling in life, and finding it should take some priority.

I have been listening to a lot of Acid Bath and Miles Davis lately. There have been many times where I think "I wish I could create music like this," but now I try to remind myself that no, that is not what I am supposed to do. Oh sure, I play around with heavy riffs and still maintain my role in a jazz fusion group, but I'm never going to write a song like Venus Blue or create the next Bitches Brew. However, I can and will be a solid bassist for anyone who is a great songwriter, all while creating odd ambient/noise tracks here and there when time/inspiration allows. It is what I am designed for, and denying that will lead to the fulfillment of yet another of life's self-defeating prophecies. Thankfully my latest endeavour is allowing me to explore both sides of those immediate creative desires, what with me playing along to the songs and adding my form of ambient nonsense for between-tune delights.

Another calling is writing, but over the last 2.5 years of bringing a little focus to that direction of my persona I have discovered that, with regard to the very thing I first began this god damn sentence with, I have absolutely HORRID organizational skills with such things. Oh sure, if someone offered me a writing gig at Rolling Stone I would quite happily go back to my hobbyist ways concerning music, but that isn't likely to happen until I get my shit together instead of continually blathering about the awfully boring (boringly awful?) economy for reasons I still have yet to determine. Seriously, knock that shit off, will ya?

Failing the whole music thing, I'll go and get my Class A driver's license, because as anyone who knows me well will attest, I can drive for 12 hours straight throughout the country whenever necessary. Another calling that would, at the very least, give me enough time to catch up on my CD collection.

Bah Humbug v. Boo Hoobastank?

2009-05-27T03:15:00.001-07:00

Why am I so god damn wired at 3:17 in the AM? Well, it doesn't really matter I suppose. Anyhow, whereas this blog is definitely The Bitch Zone for me, I don't mope about feeling sorry for myself about this current jobless situation every waking moment of the day, no matter how much I might complain about the entire stupid mess. Oh sure, it's pretty god damn discouraging trying to find work that doesn't exist, but on the whole, I'm pretty okay with it. Honestly, I'm still good. Here are a list of things to be thankful for over the last 10 months of sitting about doing nothing productive, at least in terms of Responsible Citizenry:

-I have a lot of time to create music.
My current band/project count stands at 5 (only 1 of which is currently inactive) with plenty of room for more if necessary. Since this is what I love to do with life, and since starting just recently I'm actually attempting to make a career out of it and once again become A Real Taxpayer, I'm very happy about spending more time than ever with bass in hand, creating whatever the hell it is I do on them four strings.

-I don't live on the streets.
Luckily I have a wonderful fiancée who puts up with me not working for what is nearly an entire year now. Sometimes I feel like a chump because I am currently rendered unable to fulfill her every cost-related fantasy in return, but never once have those emotions come from her actions or words. Also, thankfully for both of us, her job remains intact which makes sure that we do not end up in said streets. At least not yet.

-Unemployment Insurance continues to pay my chunk of the billz.
Oh sure, it isn't exactly Financial Stability Incarnate, and some real Creative Math is required at times so as not to bounce the rent check, but so far, so good. The US gov't isn't exactly keen on doling out wadfuls of cash to just anyone, anyone who is not a major financial institution that is, but with this incredibly awesome Total Economic Collapse they are becoming a bit more lenient when it comes to freeloaders such as myself. Not that they really have a choice at this point, but still.

-Gasoline has not run out.
Even after spending years watching/reading numerous post-apocalyptic and generally whacked out science fiction works such as Mad Max, Dune, and the Teletubbies, I never really considered a world without oil until quite recently. I'm still not sure where I stand on the Peak Oil Tip, but last summer's ridiculous gas prices served as a harsh reminder that yes, that whole Car Thing really could come to a screeching halt someday soon, and very well might, quite unexpectedly even. But not today.

-Free internet pornography remains abundant.
Look, I've been pretty busy the last several weeks heading to LA searching for Creative Forms of Employment, but let's face facts: unemployed males have only two paths of recourse in desperate moments of Excess Couching, and those are Video Games and Porno Graphy. Since I don't really play video games anymore, I have no choice but to find solace in that other method of hand-eye coordination at such times of utter boredom.

Sometimes when I bitch and moan about "ohhh woe is me, I can't buy a new bass until I get a job wahhhhhh" I should be thinking about families that have lost everything in these nasty years, probably through little to no fault of their own. So I must say that I am very thankful for such things, even when the god damn cable internet goes out.

The Fake Economy

2009-05-17T17:27:00.000-07:00

Something that has bothered me for some time now is just how simple a solution the entire economic problem should be, at least in theory. To simplify, I'm going to place this into geometric proof format (note that I have not taken a class on geometry since 1995 so I'm likely to get this style completely wrong):

1) Fractional reserve lending allows banks to hold only 10% in reserve compared to what they lend out to consumers and businesses.
2) Using this so-called math: 10 = 100 (aka $10 = $100).
3) This shit is all made up.

Explained in such terms, a lot of people out there surely must think that it has to be more complex than this, but really, I do not think that it is. Nothing, absolutely nothing is any different with today's world than it was before this crisis began, it least in vastly sweeping generalizations. There are no widespread oil, food, or water shortages in places that didn't already experience such things. The made up shit as proven above just shifted in a different direction than it was headed. That's it. Same thing during the Great Depression. Period. This is not difficult to understand, although it may be excruciatingly painful to comprehend. So, since it was all made up to begin with, why is there not a simple made up solution to end it all? I don't have the answer, so instead I shall end this rant with the following three quotes and allow any passers by to draw their own conclusions:

It is well enough that people of the nation do not understand our banking and monetary system, for if they did, I believe there would be a revolution before tomorrow morning.
--attributed to Henry Ford

I just found out that unemloyment recently gained a third extension, pushing benefits up to 79 weeks total. Some would say this money is to make sure I can still pay most of my bills on time because awwww the gubmint likes me. But I know that it is only to keep me sleeping somewhat soundly each night instead of raping/pillaging various other households. Of course since I only bitch about such things from the safety of my cable internet connection instead of getting out there with the ol' R&P, I'm just buying into their "solution" along with everyone else asleep at the wheel. What can I say, pobody's nerfect.
--me via Facebook

I’m glad [mushrooms are] against the law, 'cause you know what happened when I took ‘em? I lay in a field of green grass for four hours going "My God… I love… everything." The heavens parted, God looked down and rained gifts of forgiveness onto my being, healing me on every level – psychically, physically, emotionally. And I realised our true nature is spirit not body, that we are eternal beings and God’s love is unconditional and there is nothing we can ever do to change that. It is only our illusion that we are separate from God or that we are alone. In fact, the reality is that we are one with God and he loves us. Now if that isn’t a hazard to this country. You see my point. How are we gonna keep building nuclear weapons, you know what I mean? What’s gonna happen to the arms industry when we realize we’re all one? Ha ha ha ha ha. It’s gonna fuck up the economy. The economy that’s fake anyway. Which would be a real bummer, you know. You can see why the government’s cracking down… on the idea of experiencing unconditional love. Isn’t it interesting that the two drugs that are legal – alcohol and cigarettes – the two drugs that do absolutely nothing for you whatsoever. And drugs that grow naturally upon this planet, drugs that open your eyes up to make you realize how you’re being fucked every day of your life. Those drugs are against the law. Wow! Coincidence? I don’t know. I’m sure their motives are pure.
--Bill Hicks

Ho(u)sing

2009-05-16T16:14:00.000-07:00

So, I'm sure I've mentioned it several times already, and I'm also sure that the 3 people who read this blog already know, I worked in the housing industry for 9 years until getting laid off. I watched a lot of people dive in headfirst into deals that they really should never have been allowed to get themselves into, and, at least when it came to friends, I would do little more than attempt to educate them, briefly, on the possibility that this was a terrible financial decision to embark upon. Of course back then I thought things would get bad, but honestly, I spend many years thinking "things are only going to get downhill from here" concerning any great number of things, and as such will occasionally hold my opinion in check due to what I think might simply be a bit of conspiracy theory gone haywire within the confines of my own brain. Not that I don't yell and scream about it anyhow, but I do recognize the fact that such rants are proven wrong a lot of the time. Of course with housing, things got a lot worse than I ever imagined, and they are destined to get even more so. So, I was right this time. Stupids.

I redated an old fling some years ago, around the time of the housing peak it was, in late 2005. The first go'round we were together for over 3 years, so it was a little more than just a casual encounter the second time, at least as far as emotional content goes. While it was brief, and likely not the wisest of choices either of us could've/should've made, one of the few things I remember her asking me (and I can only assume this was to reassess my lack of maturity that may have been a problem the first time perhaps?) was if and when I was planning on buying a house. I gave her a 15 minute diatribe about why housing was far too expensive and out of control during this current mania, and that yes, eventually, if I wanted to stay in one area for a very long time, I would seek out a relatively affordable purchase to ascertain, once the market regained some sense of um... sense. As usual my lengthy answer to her yes/no question died on the spot never to be spoken of again, but back then any thought processes/conclusions such as mine were usually relegated to those of the broke, lazy, or irresponsible. She had recently purchased a 20-year-old starter home in a shit area for 1/3 of a million dollars, but of course, I was the dumb one back then for renting an apartment, as far as HGTV would tell it. Again, I was right this time. Stupids.

So, to get to the point of this mess, if there indeed is one, I submit the following blanket statement, without whipping out fancy charts, graphs, or even further knowledge: I predict that housing is to hit a continual decline for years to come. There is no end to this mess in sight, and won't be for a long time, if ever. Why? Because median incomes are currently set to plummet. They were barely treading water under Fuhkya, and are now crashing just as low as unemployment aims high. The historic ratio of 3:1 for housing price to median income must be reestablished, and I think these two numbers will be chasing one another down to a serious bottom that, quite literally, may take several generations to play out. I've been in the market for a home for over 4 years, and I'm still waiting, likely to do so for a considerable amount of time in the future. By the way, I'd rather not be right this time. Stupids.

Finally, one of my grammaws passed away yesterday. I dedicate this rant to her, although I wished I could have tied something about education herein, since she was the member of a local school board for a great many years. Rest easy.

The Responsible Choice

2009-05-13T00:11:00.000-07:00

Sometime around the age of 17 I began sending out some college applications. Actually I may have only sent out one, I honestly can't remember, but either way I ended up going to a local state school, and I have momz to thank for footing that bill. I had never really planned on going on to higher learning, but had been told by numerous people that yes, I was indeed "college material," so I just assumed it was the right thing to do. It was around this same time that I realized that life was not free, so I decided to get up and find a job. Well okay, mostly it was the fact that I was tired of depending on automobiles owned by others to cart my arse around wherever it was I needed to go, but either way, jockeying a register and cleaning terlits at K-fuck was about all I was qualified for in the eyes of most employers, so hi-ho hi-ho, off to work I... went.

By the time I hit 18 I had kept the stupid high school job, owned a car I paid cash for ($1,200 + $700 in parts to make it awesome), and was an Average College Idiot. Did well in school, did okay at my job, and drank as much beer as possible whenever my responsibilities allowed the time required. At 19 I found something interesting to major in, and even started enjoying the learning aspect of college when I wasn't too busy drinking the above mentioned beer. Sometime around age 20 I grew weary of cleaning other people's public poop mistakes, and thankfully found myself working in one of those delightful office jobs that makes you fat but thankfully pays well and gives you the night and weekend to do whatever it was you wanted. 21 found me drinking the twice mentioned beer legally, therefore publicy as well.

I finished my Bachelor's degree at age 22 and started working fulltime at the same place I found 2 years prior. I was living with roommates by this time and quickly began enjoying The American Dream, which basically amounted to paying bills and buying toys with whatever was leftover at the end. Looking back I had few complaints really, blending into society didn't bother me in the least. I even owned two cars at one point, how American is that? Didn't buy a house, but I did run up some needless credit card debt to make sure that I at least fit in with my peers in that regard. 23 and 24 rolled by much like 22. Responsible living. Simplified life goals. Relatively happy.

It was not until I turned 25 that I realized the entire fucking game was rigged, and just how screwed most of mankind is. This was in 2004 when the US of A was too busy reelecting a dipshit leader and buying boats on borrowed time to bother paying attention to just how fucked we were all about to become. I began to realize the fallacy of Being Responsible, which doesn't get you much more than an impressive FICO score and a newish car to drive you to the job you hate every day of your life. I saw the flaws, but I was all talk and no action, so I continued playing the game of showing up to work and doing what I had to do to get by. At least around this time I started writing again and began playing music like never before. Even met a nice dame a few years later. 26, 27, 28, and 29 might have been enlightened in spirit, but this also involved a lot of anger toward numbers.

So now, at age 30, when after 13 years of being Mister Responsible Citizen, I realize what I squandered leading up until this point of over 9 months of uncertain future. One degree, one strong work history, one able body, and zero job offers. What was the point of everything leading up until the layoff? I'm not alone. There are many others. Come next month there will likely be a whole new wealth of Responsible People of varying talents that have little to no hope of even starting what they have worked for up until this point. Not that we need another scapegoat, but who is really to blame? The people in charge? The people at the bottom? Everyone else stuck in the middle? Wall Street? Housing? Alan Greenspan? Boom/bust economics? Human nature? Tulips? The car launched off the cliff in December 2007 and we have still yet to come to terms with what the problem actually was.

The Changing Face of Panhandling

2009-05-12T09:56:00.000-07:00

I've always been a donator when it comes to such things. Oh sure, there are a lot of valid reasons not to give in to change-askers, such as it will just goes to drugs and doesn't help the asker at all, or quite possibly said handler make $80k / year doing pretending to be homeless and your dimes would only feed a corrupt system, but I don't care. If I have some spare change, it's all yours. The only time I recall flat out denying someone some pocket leavins was when the same dude gave me the same story for the second time at a whole new location"we're trying to make it to Hemet and we're running on fumes," several months after the first round. If my $0.47 didn't help you get there the first time, it certainly won't now. What can I say, I hate being lied to. Speaking of which:

My favourite such story occured in Oakland, getting gas on a road trip on the way to San Francisco some years back. I witnessed what coulda shoulda woulda been a homeless guy, or at least some dude a little down on his luck, sitting across the gas station from me, calling out to get my attention:

"Hey man, com'ere a minute, I got a question for you."
(This dude wants some change.)
"What's the question bro, I don't need to walk over there to hear it."
"Nah man, it's embarassing, just com'ere a minute."
(I'm not walking into that trap, he might rape me.)
"Well if you don't want to shout it, you can come over here and ask me."
(Whoops.)

After this went back and forth several times he did in fact waltz over toward me. The fucker was huge, I'm talking HUGE. Now, I rarely carry more than about $40 on me at any given time, but I was on vacation and happened to have about $300 cash in my wallet. Even if this dude was friendly there was a size issue and no way in hell was I going to reach into my gangster roll and pull out a single for him. That could have meant death. Anyhow, as I silently began to suspect the continuity of my own mortal coil for much longer on this particular ride, the two of us had a discussion involving the merits of dealing with panhandling. He was upset that several times people had told him "oh, let me run to the ATM real quick for you," only to disappear. "Look, if you aren't going to give me any money just say no, don't lie to me!" He's right you know. So I gave him a wad of quarters/dimes/pennies and wished him luck, and I've never been back to Oakland since.

Anyhow, things are changing in this field. Oh sure, the usual suspects still apply, but now I'm seeing non-homeless types asking for a little handout. A few months ago an elderly woman of seemingly sound body and mind approached me in a supermarket parking lot, with stupid me assuming it was to either help her lift something heavy or give her car a jump. Nope, she wanted some change. Everybody's good enough for some change, and I relinquished as per usual. Then last night's experience was a new twist, for a few reasons. First, the woman was quite young, and did not look destitute in the least. We had a short conversation concerning the Cthulhu emblem on the back of my car, and she seemed to know who Lovecraft was despite never reading the master's work, which I of course recommended. Anyhow, after the usual handover of something like $0.74, she asked for "just one more thing," and for a moment, I had no idea what this additional query might involve. "Can you put a few dollars on your card as well?" My bullshit detector pretty much exploded at that point, and I figured if I didn't get the hell out of there as quickly as I could my entire credit history would be shipped off on a fast boat to Nigeria. I mumbled something about being out of a job for awhile and no, I could not do that, to which we shook hands and wished one another mutual luck.

Company First

2009-05-05T12:38:00.001-07:00

So I've stumbled across this little qualification a few times in various job posts, and I honestly do not have enough middle fingers to confront it directly, so I'll bitch about it here instead. If nothing else, this here blog is therapy for my own sanity, dig?

This kind of others-defeating bullshit propaganda unnerves me to no end. The expected blind patriotic duty to someone who signs your quickly diminishing paycheck is the equivalent of nazi scare tactics that should have disappeared years ago, or at least by the time Duh-bya left office, but unfortunately unless the working class rises up to reclaim what is rightfully theirs (read: life), I'm sure it will continue until the end of time. Where is the return sense of loyalty when the company sells out to the highest bidder leaving hundreds upon thousands in the lurch with no incentive other than some trivial amount of Worthless Company Stock? How about for the guy who worked unpaid overtime for 25 years and, upon going through a short bit of personal problems, showed up late 3 days in a row which gets him shitcanned by his new boss, some kid younger than the elder's resume? Hint: it doesn't fucking exist, so don't you dare pre-accuse me of pending treason before having so much as earned the right to speak my middle god damn name, you fascist fucking pigs.

With extremely rare exception, companies exist solely for their bottom line. I don't care how many times your boss bought you and your family dinner last month, because the moment you begin to effect their dollar-making existence in any negative fashion, you're gone. Out. Smell you later. Oh sure, if you are one of the lucky, you may get a warning of some sort, in the form of one too many ignored phonecalls or an uncomfortable/accidental "conversation" in passing with someone in charge of your soon demise, but even this may only plainly be seen upon hindsight reflection. Call it a flaw of capitalism or just selfish human nature, this is how the working world works. Employers always put their own interests first. Provided employees line up within this realm of interest, strictly adhering to their own will at the same time of course, a mutual understanding and working relationship can and should remain formed. Neither side should delude the other, or themselves, into thinking otherwise.

Book Review #2

2009-05-04T01:27:00.000-07:00

Month 9 approaches, jesus god damn christ. Anywho, here are several more books I have read lately:

The Children of Men by P.D. James
Growing up I saw her books everywhere around the house being that my mother has always been a fan, but I never read anything by James, mostly due to the fact that I didn't really become a Big Reader until I hit my mid-20s. So, after watching the cinematic masterpiece that was the movie version of this work of literature, I figured it would only be fair to read the original source material. While the story was somewhat similar to the movie, and as such was quite good, the striking thing about involving myself upon this book was the absolute perfect descriptive qualities James writes in concerning the Human Condition. Similar to Nabokov, where the writer can remove themselves from their own station in the food chain and empirically examine what lies slightly beneath the flesh that we call existence, I was absolutely blown away the amount of detail revealed within a mere sentence or two. Stunning and beautiful, in an oddly ugly sort of way. I will be reading more of her work.

Foucault's Pendulum by Umberto Eco
This one ranks as the second most difficult read I have ever experienced, lying somewhere between The Silmarillion and Gravity's Rainbow (the latter of which I have yet to finish), but it was thoroughly worth the effort and perhaps some day I may recall a mere 10% of the cited names contained within. An absolutely hilarious take on conspiracy theories, and a must read for anyone in need of an utter mindfuck. I can't even begin discussing the multiple twists and turns of the plot(s), so I'll just summarize the entire affair by describing it as The Da Vinci Code, but not shite.

Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? by Philip K. Dick
My first Dick. That's right. Having loved Bladerunner as a visual feast for many years, it was only fair that, once again, I read the god damn book after watching the movie. Hey, so I'm a product of this wrecked world wherein nobody has enough time to read before waiting for the TV version to get released, what else can I say? Anyhow, the science fiction literature I enjoy has nothing to do with lazers and robot titties (though they are certainly welcome), as I read things like this along with various Asimov and Wells works for their political nature rather than said mentioned boobzers. Either way, while I enjoyed the stark contrast of the story compared to the movie, being much deeper and infinitely more important in terms of political/religious/social message, what I liked best was how entirely fallible all the characters were. It was like watching an old Ed Wood movie with people bumping into sets and taking piss breaks, very real and completely non-contrived. FYI: no way in hell is Deckard a replicant/android.

The Tales of the Beedle Bard by J.K. Rowling
I've said it before and I will say it again, Rowling is a genius. Her choice of words and absolute knack to tie everything together into tidy, unexpected packages never fails to disappoint. Really only necessary for established fans of the Harry Potter series, but a quick and fun read for just those types. I truly hope she continues to spread her gift for many years to come.

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows by J.K. Rowling
I waited in line at midnight the night this was released, with my mom of course, and finished the book within about 26 hours of it reaching my cold, dead hands. I was too afraid that the ending would be ruined for me, so I quickly flew through it as fast as possible, and while I enjoyed this closing, I was a bit disappointed by several things, yet upon reflection hoped that this was only due to the speed in which I travelled through this final journey. Thankfully, after this second reading at a much slower pace, I realized that there is nothing about this installment that falls flat. I still hold Book #6 as my favourite, but this one definitely had a few new things from her writing that were quite striking, once again. Rowling is a genius.

The Silver Key by H.P. Lovecraft
Served as post script to the Dreamquest of Unknown Kadath (which ranks very high in all things Lovecraft), and honestly, was entirely unncessary. Sorry to sound like a snob. Well, no I'm not.

Through the Gates of the Silver Key by H.P. Lovecraft
Basically a piece of fan-fiction by E. Hoffman Price and allegedly re-written by Lovecraft, this tale was enjoyable but certainly not written by the master himself. More stuff attempting to ruin the original Dreamquest tale, really, which is foolish because that one was nearly perfect in terms in practically everything.

The Dreams in the Witch House by H.P. Lovecraft
Very good story, filled with intense imagery that might not have been explained in the end, but will keep me from staying within the walls of any boarding house containing oddly shaped interior cornered rooms for years to come. I'm pretty sure Lovecraft's goal was to warn me about that very thing, and, like always, I shall do as I am told.

The Shadow Out of Time by H.P. Lovecraft
This one reminded me of At the Mountains of Madness, but taking place in the Outback instead of the Antarctic, all while meeting Pnin from Nabokov's realm out by the shore of the closing scene from Planet of the Apes. Sweet.

V for Vendetta by Alan Moore
Because I already love the government so much, it was an excellent idea to read this! Extremely well done as per usual, the message may seem a little dated but that does not mean that it has lost any of its importance over the years. I loved the balance between madness and objectivism inherent to V's persona, hereby ye shall witness a bipolarite with control.

The Children of Húrin by J.R.R. Tolkien
I was hoping for a good story. I got that. I was not expecting something rivaling the master's best work. I got that as well. Brilliance incarnate.

Factotum by Charles Bukowski
Absolutely, positively, without a doubt, go out and steal a fucking copy if you must, THE book for anyone who has ever been let go from their job. Period.

I'm sick of this shit.

2009-05-03T03:04:00.000-07:00

So the woman has asked me a few times now if I'm getting bored, to which I truthfully answer each time that "there is no boredom here, and provided we remain financially stable, I could notwork the rest of my days retaining this relative sense of well-being," and I mean it. I always hated working, but there are a lot of other things in life I hate doing and have long since resigned myself that many unpleasant things are absolutely necessary. I don't like doing the dishes, but really, what is the alternative? Much worse. I don't like working either, but really, what is the alternative? Much worse. I want to work. Badly. So do many others. Badly. Yet we have nothing.

Which is to say: this got stupid a long time ago. The idiot fucktards in charge of the purse strings screwed the pooch far too long ago and we haven't even begun to truly deal with this shit on any sort of primal level let alone said fucktards having to see what really happens when they reap what hath been sown. Starting a few weeks back I continue to read headlines that claim The Worst Is Over and things will Return To Normal Soon, yet I cannot find one solitary indicator that points even remotely toward either direction. Until I see serious action, and by serious I speak of nothing short of abhorrent violence on a massive scale whether it be from top-down retaliation to bottom-up rage or any paired response inbetween, I don't fucking buy it. All the corporate dickspents continue to suck dry what little remains of the 99% of the wallets of the land, and unfortunately nobody has risen up in large enough quantity to stop those shenanigans, so that when the bill finally comes due anybody truly deserving the pending tidal wave will have long since moved to the Cayman Islands, living out their days complaining about That Failed America, blaming unions or Democrats or something equally sinister.

Nobody cares about us, and by us I mean damn near everyone in the world. Even during "good times" our lot was continuously duped into believing that a positive lifestyle was retained provided one could trade in one debt vehicle for the next every other year, spending the majority of our meager incomes on a basic roof over one's head for the overwhelming majority of their adult so-called life. If this was the Old West (which is to say, honest justice, at least in terms of Proper Spade Calling), the fucks responsible would have been strung up in front of town a long time ago. They have not. They will not. They remain protected, forever it shall be. We've been bent over our entire existence, told that it feels good so much that we started to believe it. Did the truth come too late? Maybe.

Anyhow, since I don't really know where the hell I'm going with this, especially since I've recently become much more optimistic about All Of Humanity and How We'll Survive because the economy is just a bunch of made up numbers that don't honestly mean anything and I do believe that simplified lifestyles catered to a form of muddling through this mess really won't be so terrible provided we regain just a little more of a sense of community, combined with the fact that I'm getting god damn tired at 3am, here are two improvisation works that I wish I could get paid minimum wage to create:

AGAS - Six Mile Sky
AGAS - Alchemy for Unbelievers

The Backup Plan

2009-04-26T00:22:00.000-07:00

Ha! I sat here staring blankly at nothing for 5 minutes.

Apparently I'm still not prepared for this.

Fuckit.

The Lost Decade

2009-04-20T11:29:00.000-07:00

1999 through 2008
Working Construction

1998 through 2003
Ceased Creating

In one way, my "career" for 9 years was a waste of my soul, but at the same time it afforded a comfortable lifestyle and definitely a good bit of fun, sometimes even directly related to the job itself in the form of Working Vacations and countless free dinners, parties, concert tickets, nearly all occasions of which featured an endless bounty of salads, bread, meat, and alcohol. So at times I do feel like What A Waste, especially because once I was shunned by the industry I have yet to worm my way back in (and yes indeed, I have tried), but during the Good Ol' Days I suppose that, outside a few unique instances of utter distaste for all things building supply, I cannot hate my time therein.

However, for the 5 year span that I was not creating a single god damn useful thing, I can't say I'm too satisfied with that aspect of my existence. Between the ages of 19 and 24, where most people are truly discovering themselves attempting to work out what they want to do with their lives, or at least busy putting off the Hard Stuff until later so they can try to write a novel, see the world, screw everything that moves, or engage themselves into any other carefree activity while society deems it A O K to do so before having to finally really truly actually absolutely Grow The Fuck Up, no, I was too busy getting drunk and stupid as often as humanly possible. Not that I didn't have an immense amount of fun during that age, and even did The Responsible Thing by getting my Bachelor's degree during said tenure, but I do not look back at that era and think "yes, I accomplished a lot." Rather, I realize just how aimless and ambling it all truly was, which honestly did not cease until I picked up the pen and bass once again sometime around 2003.

It was only at that point that I reestablished things I had started as a teenager, and subsequently ignored for this substantial stretch as a young adult. During high school I wrote and played in bands, for college I ignored it all in favour of the bottle (of course, not like I did not enjoy that before and have not since, but certainly not to the extent that I did from ages 19 through 24). Since that time I have played in numerous bands and have written countless loads of bullshit, a few times even making a buck or two (definitely not more than three though). Sometimes I wonder why I didn't continue all this nonsense throughout those ages, since I feel so passionately about them today, at the Should Have Put Away Childish Things By Now age of 30. Maybe it is because I had short hair and was voting Republican at the time. Fuckers.

I'm so tired... tired of playing ze game!

2009-04-18T18:13:00.000-07:00

I really don't know why I bother. I continue to wade through various construction job ads, day after day, in hopes of finding something that my resume leans toward so that I can bring a little financial security to my modest family of young Billz to feed, and then continue the usual trade-off of resigning myself to an unsatisfying career that at least busy me a new bass every couple of months so that I can pretend I'm a rock star with one of my band's usual Two Tables Worth crowd. Even though I mostly tolerated my job in construction, sometimes loathing it with even rarer moments spent enjoying it, the actual job itself wasn't exactly torture, but now that far too much blame for the destruction of Western Civilization can be placed upon the endless pile-on of many more shells than absolutely necessary for human survival, I'm no longer passively dissatisfied with such things, but rather openly angry toward them. Look, tract housing has always been ugly, and these days it is rarely more than a blight on the landscape in the form of unfinished streets whereupon vacant foundations rot in the sun. Even those that were actually completed during the beginning of the housing bust have become empty hovels with missing chunks of copper and drywall, occupying what could have been a lovely 50x100 dirt field for coyotes to hunt wee bunnies and spent chewing gum in the night. It was always gross, now it is just flat out disgusting. I really want no part of such nonsense any longer.

So, I signed up to an actual paid musician's bulletin board jobfinder thingthing, and am forging a plan to scour the LA area in search of anyone in need of a 4-string mangler of the deep. Oh sure, I probably just blew $49 I could not afford, and will surely while away much more than that in gas over the coming weeks, but even though I may still look young, fact is I'm 30 and if I don't sell out soon my Charming Good Looks won't get the kind of spam-laced response every poorly typed Craig's List posting deserves. Not that I've ever made more than a few hundred bucks as a musician over the last two decades, but some of them do out there, and a few meager scraps from the door split with a cover band would be a lot more than my current median income of Zero Fucking Dollars. I already engage myself upon the genuine creative outfits I desire, provided I have the time and energy to continue such passions I'll go play corporate for a spell. Best example I can think of where I may fit was a Delerium show at the El Rey Theatre I went to last year with the woman, complete with similar sounding opening acts and a swath of lesbian fans. While I quite enjoyed myself and would willingly travel toward such a live act experience again, it is not exactly my style of music so I rarely grab the albums in question from our mutual CD shelves. So, I spent a good chunk of my time that evening watching the bassists of the night, wondering why in the god damn I wasn't up on a similar stage doing just that myself. Especially considering that a few years ago I was playing in a Cuban rock band with a drummer who didn't even speak English and having an absolute blast, I have nowhere to go but up. The only reason I left that band is because I had a A Career to attend to, which was the first and only time I'll make that stupid fucking mistake because we all know how far that officeful of bullshit got me. Bring on the paid gigs!

Layoff Laughtrack

2009-04-11T15:55:00.000-07:00

So I was reading the other day that various networks are gearing up to move slightly away from the Pseudo Riche mentality when it comes to programming, and more toward fitting this era of economic despair that we're all facing, or at least reading about on Yahoo Newz. The funniest part about this is while the government reels trying to come up with a solution to This Big Mess, the geniuses of television will have it more than covered within one season, and nobody will really notice the change. Actually that isn't entirely true. The funniest part of this is that Amanda Bynes will soon be someone that every day morons Will Really Identify With because she pretends to face the trials and tribulations of being laid off whilst collecting millions on the newest ABC shitcom.

Personally, I'd rather that awe-inspiring masterworks such as Homomance and The Real Cunts of Orange County would remain on the air, making fun of such plebeian activities like figuring out the monthly bills or reading a book, so that the other 99% of the population can warm up the torches and sharpen the pitchforks, but that isn't likely to happen any time soon. Unfortunately. What I don't understand is that this current economy provides many people the opportunity to take a step back from their usual lives and perhaps change a few things, such as lessening the ridiculous amount of time glued to the idiot box sucking down can after can of Sleaze Cheeze, but that isn't likely to happen now that TeeVee will once again swerve itself into whatever mold the ratings demand.

In other positive news, the recession is coming to an end, did you hear?! Not exactly sure how that is even possible, considering that no new industry has propped itself up to take place of all those that are dying not-so-lonely-but-just-as-agonizing deaths right now. I think this assumption is "well, this crap has been going on long enough, so it will probably be over soon" and nothing more it would seem, which really doesn't make any sort of sense whatsover. Anyone who is looking for a job can tell you how slim the pickings continue to be, and really, without jobs, how the fuck is there going to be any sort of lasting recovery? Oh sure, the governments of the world could give every citizen alive a check for X dollars/euros/shekels/ducats, but once the X is gone and people still don't have a paycheck coming in, it will all be back to where we remain today: wond'ring aloud what the hell is going to happen next.

I just don't buy this whole talk of recovery, not until something huge happens. Oh sure, a few banks have failed only to be scooped up by another one, and tent cities are popping up all around the globe, but I mean a real HOLY SHIT moment. I want to wake up some morning and see GM and Chrysler closing their doors, with nobody willing or able to land on that grenade to keep up operations for even a single day longer. I want to see the Dollar, Euro, and Yen come together in a new global currency, your current wallet will self-destruct in 5 days if you don't trade in now. I want to see Obama declare martial law in Detroit, letting the citizens know the bulldozers are on their way to begin construction on an 140 square mile solar energy field. Until then, we will continue to decline at this gradual, stupid pace, thinking that if we just wait long enough things will go back to how they were just a few years ago.

Fiiiiiiive Interviews, that's all we've got!

2009-03-24T14:58:00.001-07:00

123 resumes sent over the past coming-up-on 8 months, and I've only been granted the opportunity to Get Personal a whopping 5 times. How inspiring! To write about, that is.

Interview #1: August 2008
It didn't take more than a few days after getting laid off to secure this one, so I was confident that hey, this whole Job Lossage wouldn't be terribly awful after all. The job in question was for less money than my unemployment stipend would be, but I didn't care because it was working for a newspaper, something I've wanted to do for ages. Oh sure it wasn't a writing position, but I let the interviewer know that that was my goal in working for such an establishment. You know, I'd plan on sticking around. Unfortunately, even though I thought it went rather well, in particular since it lasted nearly an hour mostly lying within the realm of comfortable conversation, I never heard back from them. Even after I sent a few emails, including one applying for another position they had open several months later. Alas!

Interview #2: October 2008
Well I quickly resigned my pledge to NEVER WORK CONSTRUCTION AGAIN by applying to this position, which I thought was project management but was actually some sales team bullshit for a commercial firm. I didn't think the interview went particularly well, not just because Mr. Owner Dude was an ex-marine still maintaining a haircut that you can set your watch to, but rather because I'm not a salesperson. At all. No really. If you need someone to convince you to buy something, guess what? You don't need it. Period. This goes from personal to business, but if the world worked as I wanted, how would anyone ever own a vehicle? Anyhow. So even though they said "we'll call you tomorrow with a salary package offer," I knew they would not, and I was on my way. For the second time, since I showed up the day before and sat in their office for 45 minutes before they had to reschedule my interview for the next day. Either way, even though I gave a good interview and convinced myself to suck it up Buttercup, I did not want this job. Fuck sales. They didn't call anyhow.

Interview #3: November 2008
This was an odd phone call because I was visiting my mother-out-law's house on a Saturday afternoon, and as such had enjoyed a few glasses of wine upon flipping ye olde cellular open. The position description was vague, and since it was working for a charity organization so I did not expect a high rate of pay. That combined with the fact that they were located in downtown Los Angeles (some 75 miles away from my residence) made me hesitant at best, but I scheduled an interview anyhow, perhaps influenced by said wine. It only took about 15 minutes research to realize that I would definitely not be visiting their office, regardless of how worried I was becoming about finding any sort of regular employment. Company policy seemed to be paying a salaried minimum wage for simply working over 60 hours a week of door-to-door sales. Apparently my first Metrolink experience would be held off just that much longer.

Interview #4: January 2009
By this point in time I had long since destroyed any enjoyable notion I had for NEVER WORKING CONSTRUCTION AGAIN because really, these were the only positions I could myself qualifying for. If paying the bills means I have to continue on with that stupid industry, so be it. So, this job comes around for a commercial estimator, one of the few positions left in cuntstruction that holds my interest, cool. The interview went well. The job description got better once I learned they were looking for some dude to sit inside all day digging through plans and not talking to much of anyone, just getting their work done and moving on for the day. The icing was that their building is 2 blocks away from my one band's practice space, and it provided decent pay even. Hooray! I want this job. Gimme. No? FUCK!

Interview #5: March 2009
I laughed when I applied to this one because they required a "professional appearance" and drug testing. No, I am not willing to cut my hair. Give me one reason, a reason that makes sense mind you, why the length of someone's hair has any impact whatsoever on their ability to accomplish any job, any place, any time. Hint: there isn't one. Second, fuck drug tests. I don't do drugs and have no plan on engaging in that behaviour in the immediate future, but more importantly, what business is it of yours what activities I choose to engage in during my private life? Unless the job requires the operation of heavy machinery, and you also make use of a breathalyzer, on a daily basis, get the fuck out of here with your Nazi bullshit. Anyhow, they hired someone the day before my interview, but at least had the decency to call and let me know to not bother showing up. Fuckers.

Pantaloons of Ignominy

2009-03-19T18:14:00.000-07:00

I've never been much of a morning person. No, I don't mean one of those wake up and hate life until I get my stereotypical cup o' joe and read the morning 3M™ Post-it® collection piled up on my desk (er, umm, you know, the one I used to go to most days), because that isn't quite it. I just don't like mornings. Oh sure, if I have something to do or somewhere to go I'll bear them without much complaint, but, given the choice, I will avoid them if at all possible. The only exception is while camping, because for whatever reason I'm nearly always the first to rise, very rarely after 6am in most cases. I must enjoy the cool fog, but only if I'm actually in it rather than viewing it from within the usual windowed existence. Anyhow. Since most of my days involve me going nowhere until after 4pm, and even then usually as an option as opposed to some contracted appointment, I've found that sleeping in far too late has become quite attractive, and a regular occurence of general habit. After spending many months with most of my mornings having little or nothing to do outside of checking for job posting sometime before noon, the majority of my AM hours have been spent sleeping. This, combined with the unwritten Law of Man that if one has nowhere to arrive before 10am he will not be wearing pants that day, has lead to a bit skewed of an existence. Try it out, you'll see. I know this to be fact because I spent many a month not wearing anything but typical flannelesque pajamapants throughtout the entire day unless I actually had somewhere to go. It eventually reached the point where I honestly felt embarrassed to go check the mail around 1pm because, day after day, without fail, I never bothered actually getting dressed.

I brought this all to an end a couple of weeks ago. I finally bored myself of this awful habit of sleeping in until beyond 11am and sometimes not bothering to rise until 2:00 in the god damn afternoon like the lazy fuck that I was (and still likely am in some regards I'm sure). The biggest difference I noticed, other than not feeling a surge of depression upon rising well after the sun and shadows had gotten bored of their day, was that I started automatically getting dressed every day, even those upon which I have little or nothing to accomplish outside my domicile. My daily mood greatly improved rather quickly, and I found that I actually attempted to accomplish the important things in life, such as listening to a lot of music, writing songs, and reading books. Of course one might think that this Up And At Them demeanour might translate into me finally finding a job, but no, because after what amounts to nearly 8 months of searching, along with 122 resumes delivered to and subsequently ignored by future potential employees, actual openings are becoming even more scarce as the day goes by. But hey, even with that, I do feel much better these days. Probably because even though I'm still home every day, I no longer take the mailbox walk of shame in 9 year old chonies.

Worst. Glue. Ever.

2009-03-13T11:27:00.000-07:00

Just doing the bi-weekly billing over here on yet another jobless Friday which rarely feel like any sort of end to any real week any longer, and, I can honestly say, without any doubt whatsoever, the envelope glue on the unemployment slip is easily the foulest in all the land. Still bitter about getting the axe? Don't worry, you haven't tasted shit until you've sent back your first Gimme Monay return form. Oh sure, times are tough, and not every little government body can afford Glue Brand Glue any longer like those rich bastards at Southern California Edison with their candylipped folded bits of PayMeNowOrLightCandlesLater, some have to resort to this current concoction of gloe Brand (can't afford the ink to print a full-sized G really) that I currently lay my tongue upon every other week for my Jobless Stipend, because really, it may just be the time of it wearing quite decidedly on, but it's got to be getting worse in flavour as the months go by. Perhaps this is where the money for the $25 / week Unemployment Stimulus comes from, oh yes, we actually got a raise a week or three ago. So now I can lift my skinny fist yelling take THAT, Bank of America! You can HAVE your $208,000,000,000.00 because I'm going to be $800.00 RICHER (before taxes) by the time my unemployment extension runs out! HAHAHA!!! Suckers. Oh wait.

So I read earlier today that legalizing marijuana is once again rising up into the regular lexicon, this time to solve California's state budget problem. Now, I quit even cigarettes years ago, and honestly my sensitive little girl lungs get pretty bent out of shape whenever I so much as sit too close to a large candle these days, but I've always been a proponent of the movement to legalize marijuana. Why? Read the facts. No, not the corn industry funded website on the "safety" of high fuctose corn shit, I mean actual literature based on logic and reason. The state budget brouhaha in question as related to this still illegal drug may be found over on Time.com but the key quote from the heart of it all is as follows:

In response, retired Orange County Superior Court Judge James Gray, a longtime proponent of legalization, estimates that legalizing pot and thus ceasing to arrest, prosecute and imprison non-violent offenders could save the state an additional $1 billion a year. "We couldn't make this drug any more available if we tried," he says. "Not only do we have those problems, along with glamorizing it by making it illegal, but we also have the crime and corruption that go along with it." He adds, "Unfortunately, every society in the history of mankind has had some form of mind-altering, sometimes addictive substances to use, to misuse, abuse or get addicted to. Get used to it. They're here to stay. So, let's try to reduce those harms and right now we couldn't do it worse if we tried."

I can only add two simple truths to that concise spread of Fact: if public safety were the concern alcohol would be illegal, and if public health were the concern tobacco would be illegal. Obviously that rationale does not dictate the drive behind the laws that regulate what drugs we can and cannot play with, so let us allow a practical decision to take hold for this third grouping of temporary mental escape, easing an unavoidable monetary problem all the while. It really wouldn't be that hard, and now that blacks and gays enjoy their complete and utter freedom in today's Modern America, so too shall the legion of marijuana users follow suit. Oh wait.

Speaking of weed, it's time for some Electric Wizard. I'll make it at least sound like Friday.

Keep On Floatin'

2009-02-10T11:50:00.000-08:00

So the Great Stimulus of 2009 seems moments away from becoming a reality, and while I heavily protested the initial Bank Bailout from last year, this one I'm more keen on accepting, and possibly even supporting, at least in part. Oh sure, I may end up being supported by it, so I suppose I may be a bit biased in that regard, but my main gripe with government spending is not the amount, but rather the location. Tax cuts for the rich are bullshit, giving money to failed business models is bullshit, and privatizing profits while socializing losses is bullshit. Funding various welfare, education, and health programs are not acts in such a vein that join the dung with the proverbial steer. I'm not here to argue or prove any of this, that's just like, my opinion, man. So, while the details of this particular Super Tax Spend Thing have yet to be released, I do know that it provides several provisions for the increase and extension of unemployment benefits, as well as some sort of relief to COBRA insurance costs. As a user and abuser of both, I like this. Particularly since monthly COBRA payments for myself alone are less than full coverage car insurance for 2 people with 2 vehicles that aren't terribly old, this may help a great many people. Some may bitch about people sucking off the government when they should be out working, but for those that make such an argument that hold positions in power, this is simply grandstanding because they know that at the end of the day the unemployment benefit extension simply amounts to what welfare always has been: Riot Control. Our ranks continue to grow, and if the soon-to-be masses are not placated, the status quo shall be a-changed. In years past this opiate was dosed in the form of a mountain of credit cards so that people could get all the Stuff they wanted, but those days are gone, hence we're all on the dole lest we become angry gun toting raw red meat eating motherfuckers.

Anyhow. My personal/immediate economic barometer for how things are progressing usually comes in the form of the bimonthly gatherings of one particular circle of friends. Last week was someone's 30th birthday that also coincided with an '80s Themed Partay. Now, to be completely honest, I fucking hate themed parties. I think that if your party is already assumed to be so boring that you need to remind someone to have fun by giving them specific activities to prepare for engagement thereof before so much as anyone has waltzed through the door, the entire affair is borked from the outset. That being said, we had an absolute blast. I never thought that 3 hours of '80s-Centric Pictionary would be so much fun, but it really was. Oh sure, we always have fun around this group of people and knew a good time would be had by all, but we both thought this round might be a little, you know, fruity. It wasn't. At all. Even the Gummy Bracelet Trade that took place at 1:30am, with the majority of participants being relatively sober, was a pretty god damn rockin' good time. So, while there were no roundtable discussions about the economy, I did engage in a sidebar conference or two. Layoffs and pay cuts have become the norm (though not the majority), another foreclosure was added to the list, and even a few bankruptcies are in the midst. Oh sure, nobody is out on the streets going hungry, but living arrangements have shifted and plans have changed. As I said the other night, 2009 is going to be a year to make due as best you can. Of course I think that 2010 and beyond will also be of the Make Due variety, and no, not until "things come back" or some other miracle cure, because I think we are at the start of The Great Downsizing. 10 years from now, we will no longer be a society who buys new cars every 2 years while owning several bits of property here and about on average middle income salaries. The days of credit wastrels are waning fast, and once they are gone, will not come back for several generations. Much like the 1920s were to the next 50 years, so will the 2000s be for that much longer. But rather than playing Kreskin and possibly failing miserably, perhaps I should move on to my more immediate point.

The government needs to step in and keep the masses floating. Reluctantly, I was able to adjust The Family Budget to fit this here predicament we found ourselves upon, and if others have not done so yet, they will be forced. Since I never went gonzo with my previous salary we didn't even have to move, but if something worse would happen to our monetary situation, we could easily rearrange our living situation into an apartment or possible love-in with a friend and/or relative. However, provided the gubmint continues to provide a few pennies here and there, a life of slight inconvenience is much preferred to one of absolute horror. If social programs continue to prop up those first effected by this mess, we will all be able to ease into the next phase of life without too much difficulty. Programs such as Social Security, Unemployment Insurance, WIC, and other social subsidies simply cannot afford to fail right now. Wall Streeters worried about their bonuses being cut this year won't give a good god damn about them next year if they cannot simply walk out their front door without being raped by the huddled but no longer cowering masses of torch and pitchfork.

Oh yeah, here is my dress-up version of the 1980s, which honestly, isn't terribly different from how I look every day anyhow:

"Nobody saw this coming."

2009-01-09T10:28:00.000-08:00

I am getting sick of hearing that line from the powers that be with regards to this current economic mess. The most recent was from Dick "The Dick" Cheney just yesterday. Fact is, a lot of people saw it coming, mostly because in a boom/bust economic model such as the US, this kind of thing happens quite frequently, even the really bad occasions such as this. Many people alive today lived through The Great Depression, and that was much worse than what we face today (so far). Yes, I understand that a complete global recession is a relatively new concept, but consider the level of globalization that has occured over the past 20 years. The world economy is inextricably linked, so when one major power stumbles, the rest are heavily effected. It is almost like the opposite of terrorist organizations. Gee, imagine that.

Now, rather than setting off the Indepent Thought Alarm carrying on with that lead, I'm going to discuss the signs that I saw over the years leading up to this garbage. I'm not about to lay out some plan that shows exactly how I predicted this whole mess, and accordingly why I should be given a lot of money to make future predictions about the economy, weather, relationships, or lottery numbers, because no. I didn't see this coming. At least not entirely. I'm just some dude with very little training with things finance, other than being raised by frugal parents who taught me a simple lesson in money matters: Don't Be Stupid. Other than a few foolish years of college debt, it worked. But other than that, outside of a 3-week summer school class I took in 1996, I didn't start paying close attention to economic matters until early 2007, but even then, my ignorant arse knew something smelt foul within the housing game, a few years prior to the reeking.

I started working in construction in 1999 with a part-time college job for a masonry subcontractor that dealt mostly with residential housing. I didn't know a god damn thing about housing at the time, other than a slight distaste for things tract, what with the mass produced repetitiveness of it all, but even then really, it didn't much concern me. I was glad to get out of K-Mart and have my weekends free from work. I finished my degree at the end of 2001 and, rather than look for another job, perhaps one that suited my interests a bit more swimmingly, I just started showing up every day. Part of it was the ease of transition, but most of it was because since I find any sort of work to be a gross waste of time, doing anything at all that brings me minimal interference with my daily existence is considered a fine career. This job was relatively easy, especially since I had already had nearly two years experience in it, and the benefits of a decent salary plus nights and weekends off went along with my Life Goal at the time: getting fuckin' hammered as often as possible.

So, after several years of living the dream, especially since my income continued upward enabling me to afford bigger and better bottles of finely crafted ale and aged single malt scotch, I decided to be A Big Boy and look for a house in 2005. Did I have a family? No. Did I need anything larger than my single bedroom apartment, even with all my CDs and music equipment? No. Could I afford merely the monthly rent along with the car payments I signed up for a year prior without digging myself slowly but gradually into more debt? No. So off I went house hunting! I decided on an arbitrary cap of $250,000 but allowed a little room on top of that apparently, and was looking at anything below $350,000. Please note that this gave me a range of 5 to 7 times my annual income at the time, which is far beyond the 3.5 maximum one should follow when house hunting. Nobody told me about this, I had to find out on my own, years later at that. So. I'm already getting myself way over my head just by looking, and this was before even stepping foot into the loan office. The best part is the fact that these $250,000 to $350,000 homes landed myself, along with my realtor type friend, in some of the shittiest areas around town. These prices were the bottom of the scale at the time, and while one or two looked nice, even during daylight hours I wasn't entirely comfortable being within most of their respective vicinities.

That afternoon I ascended myself into the loan officer's abode to discuss affordability of the two houses I found acceptable from our list of many. One listed for $292,000 and the other for $325,000. The monthly mortgage for either was a bit over $1,800 per month, before taxes and upkeep of course. This was over double what my apartment rent was, which was already difficult enough to surmount by myself. Now, I've always been pretty good at math, but apparently I never really put two and two together that borrowing 1/3 of a million dollars would translate to blowing almost $2,000 per month. Every month. For 30 years. It was then I truly realized that I could not afford this, and told them as such. "You'll be okay, you can do it." No really, I argued, I can't afford that. I pay $865 in rent each month, asking me to come up with another grand on top of that, every single month, is an impossibility. The money simply isn't there. "You'll be okay, you can do it." If I remember correctly, I had never even given anyone my salary information, let alone proof of it. I quickly wondered how anyone could be buying houses if this is how much the bottom of the market cost, and I knew that I was not exactly on the lowest salary rung, at least for my age. This is when the discussion of those mystical ARM loans came up, and how easy financing anything you wanted truly was, because since house prices keep going up, the everlasting game of leapfrog will never end. This is when I truly realized just how fucked the entire game was. My first mass economics lesson in 9 years, the first of my tried-as-an-adult station in life. A big one. Shortly afterwards I left their office, absolutely floored that this was how things worked, and kept my apartment, waiting for the crash.

It came, less than a year later, early in 2006. A date of retrospect of course, as at the time things were flying right along as if nothing had changed, although I knew things were rotten by that time because of the ARM fiasco, but nearly as important was the fact that, after working 6 years in residential housing, we were not getting any new plans in. For years, absolutely years, my company at the time received new sets of plans by the bushel on a constant basis. Anywhere from 5 to 20 rolls of architectural plans were flying toward my person every week, with very few dips along the way. That ceased to exist suddenly, although nobody noticed until a few of us realized that, for the first time ever, we were actually caught up with new projects. That had never happened before, in fact the very reason I was hired on to begin with was to help go through the back catalogue, which was massive, and it was never eliminated for longer than a day or two at best. Of course, I didn't realize how much of a mess this would create for the overall economy, but I did know things were about to get pretty nasty in more than a few areas.

It really was not hard to see coming, even with the blazingly ignorant attitudes of the higher ups that I witnessed. Nobody thought anything was wrong, in fact most were too busy swapping their own houses to pay attention to the basic lesson that my foolish self learned quite quickly just by thinking about it for 5 seconds after my first, and only, loan officer visitation. At the very peak of the bubble, the company I worked for were bought out by one of those lovely Private Equity Fund group of assholes, and believe you me, they are assholes. Actually, for any that happen to read this that are involved with one such PEF, I have a simple message: FUCK YOU. If you don't understand my hostility, let me explain it to you in further detail: FUCK. YOU. Anyhow. They were predicting this housing trend to continue for years upon years, which was obviously false to me, and really should have been to more than a few others, especially to anyone with any sense of history or training. Apparently, I was wrong. About others. Not about the mess. Case in point, here we are, 3 years later, with no end in sight.

Now. This is merely my own self realizing that something was rotten with the monied world through very few keen observations. Looking back after the fact, I've read countless reports from The Great Depression itself of nearly exact behaviours that happened in Florida during the 1920s that lead up to their mess. This link will take you to an article written by Eliot Spitzer, before he was shamed out of existence, that proves this was not hard to predict. Many did. All were ignored. Here we are.

This afternoon begins Month Six of my personal mess in this matter.

2009-01-08T12:35:00.001-08:00

Oh, rapture! I've always dreamt of not working for months on end, now if only I could truly enjoy this moment rather than being paranoid it will all end with me out on the streets. Well, that isn't entirely true. I sleep in every day, play a lot of music, only put on pants if I must, and even went on vacation just last week. Including a run to Amoeba Records, I think we spent $100 total for a 5 day getaway. Sweet. What was I complaining about?! Ah yes. Even trying to find jobs to apply for gets more difficult by the day, but at least I'm having a bit of fun. Cheap fun, but fun nonetheless. Hooray. Now, back to the pain. I spent some time last night filling out a variety of job boards, ones where you enter a very specific quantity of information in order for them to run searches on The Career For You, and I think the best part was after 15 minutes of spelling out exactly how qualified I may be for something within my range, the ending result was the same for all:

0 matches

Ha! I wonder why I even bother trying to find something I might actually qualify for as opposed to just going for anything that might be available. OH WAIT that's what I'm already doing. I practically vowed never to return to construction since I did my time in the form of 9 years stuck behind that desk before receiving The Downturn Hatchet, but since that is where my resumé appears healthiest, after this much time being jobless at least half the places I apply for are within that field, just because I might as well go for what I have a chance of nailing, as opposed to some mystical new field where I get a great big hardon every time I think about clocking in. The result? Nothing. Nada. Zilch. Well okay, I had one visit with a general contractor over 3 months ago, which was the last time I had an interview, and their "we'll call you tomorrow with a salary package" offer turned into dead air before I so much as unassed myself from their hot seat. Alas!

Unrelated bout of whatever:

Last night I had another Didn't Finish College Yet dream, although this one I was anticipating the completion of one final class to ascertain that goal, and there was no paranoia involved. To be fair, I was thinking about the fact that it has now been over 7 years since I graduated, shortly before falling to sleep. I am of the opinion that dreams are very much influenced by whatever might be racing through one's mind immediately prior to passing out, and do not usually attempt to infer deeper meaning into such things. Maybe I'm just no fun with regard to this, but it is be what is be. Anyhow. After leaving the dream-class (?) I walked by Stevie Wonder, who happened to be busking, oddly enough sans performance. He asked me for a dime, and mentioned that I could just pretend to put one in his cup, as he wouldn't be able to tell the difference anyhow. I told him sorry, no dice, and then was hassled by a few people. Moderately. I informed them two things: first, I had already given him a dollar earlier in the day, and second, that I did in fact own "a shitload" of his albums already. Technically speaking, I don't think I gave him a dollar, and, most importantly, I only own two Stevie Wonder albums, which most certainly does not constitute said shitload. It would seem that I lie in my dreams. Interesting.

Recurring Dreams and/or Nightmares

2008-12-17T11:41:00.000-08:00

So I finished my BA in December of 2001 right, which, depending on the timing, might be exactly 7 years ago. I did pretty well I suppose, finished with a 3.21 GPA so I wasn't the greatest student but hardly was I horrible. However, and this is where the tide perhaps shall turn the other direction in the form of the opinion of others, I ditched class. A lot. A whole lot. Really. Several classes I'd show up only for the first day, midterm, and final. Well, maybe it was just one class I did, and I probably went to almost half of the class sessions, but still, I wasn't exactly well known by most of my professors. Anyhow. So starting somewhere around a few years after I finished college, I have continuously had the dream that I ditched too many classes, inadvertently show up on the wrong day for the midterm which has already occured, which causes me to fail the class and therefore never complete my degree. This literally happens at least once every 6 months, whereupon a panic ensues within my mind that I have to go back to school, finish that last class, and get on with life. It only ends once I finally stop running about and think, "you've seen your BA in the flesh, this is merely a dream from which you may awaken at any time," at which point I open my eyes in the early morning / late afternoon giggling sheepishly in confused fashion about yet another recurrence of this foolishness. I've never quite figured out the meaning behind this madness, although I can assume that I still feel guilty about ditching too many classes back then. Either way, doesn't much matter I suppose. It happens.

A new chapter has begun in these Duplicate Dreams. This one is not related to school, but rather to work. Two nights in a row I have dreamt of my old coworkers from a job I left, quite happily and of my own volition, close to two years ago. I seek their help in finding a new job, and by the end I'm back working where I once did, not entirely happy about it, but hey, a job is a job right? That is my overall thought process within said dreams that is. Now, since it has been some time since I left that establishment, the passion of my undying hatred toward those fucks may have lost some of its bite, so I can only summarize rather than offer an extended diatribe of why they are of the proverbial Teh Suck. Long story short, great small company achieves increasing success throughout the years, accordingly rewarding its employees with a good work environment and decent financial appreciation. After over 20 years (with me there for about 7 of those), a private equity firm purchases said company and merges it with another. "Nothing will change, go about your day just like normal!" is quickly revealed to be a lie, and The Corporate Nightmare ensues. After spending the next year gradually losing more sleep, patience with loved ones, and finally my hair, I turned in my two week notice only to be briskly escorted from the premises like a wanted man, which was followed up by multiple lawyer letters threatening me with various lawsuits if I so much as scratched my arse the wrong way. Finally a month after quitting they were gone from my life, but never once have I neglected to give them The Finger upon passing by their festering, decrepit tower in my unrelated travels. Again, anyhow. Is it clear enough that I would never, ever go back there, no matter how destitute I may become whilst suffering this bout of joblessness? Good.

So why do these dreams recur? Granted, I think most dreams are just visual incarnations of whatever thoughts may be running about your head on any given night, the contents of which are therefore usually left to chance, simply being something that pops into your head mere moments before sleep arrives, but when they happen more than once, I begin to wonder. More importantly, why are these coming years after the fact? It would make more sense if I dreamt of the job I was recently laid off from, especially given how upset I initally was about that mess. But it would seem that these come later on, well after the affair in question is long since said and done. Maybe these episodes of my life have simply hit syndication, and now I am viewing them weekdays at 11.

DOOOOOOOOM!!!

2008-12-16T13:07:00.001-08:00

Hey everybody! Let's do The Unemployment Benefit Breakdown!

26 weeks of half your previous salary, up to a maximum of $450 per week.
13 week federal extension.
7 week in addition to said extension.
13 week second extension for high unemployment areas.

So that means even though I'm on Week 18 of Joblessness, I'm still good for up to another 41 weeks of Gubmint Cheese! Party Time! Get Down! Dyn! O! Mite! No really, not really. Yesterday I blew $99 finishing up xmas shopping, and it damn near made me sick because that's about what our gas, electric, and internet bills all add up to for one single month. Pinching pennies is awesome! But hey, technically speaking, there should be no substantial panic until maybe October of 2008 if we can continue our Superior Math Skillz. Of course I've already read multiple horror stories of people getting screwed out of their Unemployment Cheque due to phone-call / internet / incompetence whackiness, but so far I have not been privy to such unfortunate instances. Hopefully this streak shall continue, or, well, you know, I'll actually be able to find a fucking job. But I remain content, playing Budget Meister is not nearly as bad as I thought it might be, although only because said budgeting is successful, as opposed to rocketing us to the poor house, a place we have thusfar avoided quite successfully.

So why all the DOOOOOOOOOM titling? Because someone emailed me 3 doom metal albums last night, which are all pretty stellar, and what better time to listen to said dooming than whilst sitting at home all day, enjoying this wet, dreary, awesome weather?

Conifer

Conifer - Crown Fire

Ocean - Here Where Nothing Grows

Conifer remind me of Neurosis by way of Failure, and Ocean (whom I have heard of many times but finally paid them proper attention) sound like what would happen if Skepticism would get angry instead of just depressed. Oh sure, I'm oversimplifying perhaps, but this is not meant to be a review, just rather a spoonful of doom to destroy your saccharine pleasure. This seems to be the first year in a great many that I am not scampering as quickly as possible to my black metal collection in days of cold, but for whatever reason, I am quite enjoying all of this. All of this DOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!

Hectic Complacency

2008-12-11T13:18:00.000-08:00

So I'm well past 4 months of joblessness now, and I do believe I'm a bit used to things. One very odd thing that I did not expect: I'm freakin' busy! Never would I have thought that I'd have so much to do while not working. Oh sure, many days I sleep an extra 2 or 3 hours just because I can, but I figured I'd have some trouble unassing myself from the couch after a few weeks, and even more difficulty assuaging my own boredom, but that really hasn't happened. Granted, I've spent a bit more time with my family lately, and I did join a second band, but even factoring that along with the extra sleep (which isn't daily), the numbers don't quite add up. I was at work 45+ hours per week consistently since 2001, other than the occasional day off and vacation (and prior to that I worked 20+ hours while going to school, which was an even busier schedule), but I seem to have about the same amount of Do Nothing time now as I did throughout all of then. Although perhaps I'm just bad at numbers, much like when you go visit your grandparents when you're little the drive seems to take several weeks if not years, then when you start driving yourself down there you realize it's only about 45 minutes.

I suppose the point of all this is how much I hate work. Where'd that come from, you ask? I think I just told you, I say. Since our budget was already adjusted for a pending company collapse, so far (knock on wood) money has not been an issue. Provided I can keep that up, I'm perfectly content. I've told a few people that I'm getting bored, but really, I'm not. Oh sure, it has happened once or twice for an hour or two at a time, but that's about it really. Like I said, my time is pretty well occupied. That doesn't mean I'm not still looking for work, because I very much am, but at the same time, I've grown to recognize that things are getting worse and worse for those seeking new employment, and even for those that still have a job, but truly, I'm very much okay with this current station of my existence. However, much like when on the terlit, things seem just fine until the paper/money is gone, so hopefully by the time that occurs I will regain my title of Average American Douche Who Hates His Soulless Fucking Job.

Moving back home / Guy on the couch / Living in a cardboard box

2008-11-19T12:13:00.001-08:00

Those are certainly three options presenting themselves to many currently caught within The Slump. Well, assuming that one has a family member with more security and the will to allow one's 45-year-old brother to live under their self-established roof, a friend that has ample couch-space for the hopelessly unemployed to forge their own (hopefully temporary) ass groove, or the fortitude to withstand whatever outdoor inclement weather your particular region provides. Either way, if one of those three issues provide not the problem, go nuts! Many an opportunity can arise from such conditions. You may tie further binds with long lost family members hoping to relive their high school days together thinking that the bygone hatred of parents/siblings for petty reasons disappeared with age/maturity but really only went away as proximity diminished over time, or perhaps learning just how much fun it was to have college roommates only when everyone was constantly hammered instead of yearning for peace and quiet like you do now, and finally, rising upward to become the biggest pencils-in-a-cup salesperson on your side of the dark alley in order to win both respect and awe from those once shunned as society's unfortunates that you now consider your peers. The repressive smog-filled skies are "clearly" the limit!

To put it succinctly, cheers to The Møøse who sent me this:

In other exciting news, at least I'm engaging in more musical adventures as of late. I finally have a completed demo for the noise/ambient project I started earlier this year, Avolition has a recording session this weekend along with two shows before the end of the year, and tonight I head off to my New Band's First Practice, some jam/fusion/improvisation experiment that lands me on Second Bass and Other Drummer. That should be interesting, especially since two of the band members are veritable music encyclopaedias with the talent to match. Also, since I've casually been looking into actuarial studies for future employment (I may hate the insurance industry, but I shore doo luv me sum maffus), I finally started reading Foucault's Pendulum by Umberto Eco. Hopefully it will at the very least improve my vocabulary. "Here you go, fatso!"

Misery Loves Company and other shit clichés.

2008-11-07T14:27:00.000-08:00

Alright, another month, another borked jobs report, pushing the "official" number to 6.5% unemployment, which is the worst in 14 years. The realisitc figure is 11.8% but hey, in today's society we seeketh lies, and they telleth accordingly. Further proof that either Wall Street is moronic and/or I don't know a god damn thing about it, the Dow went up today. I'm not sure how anyone can kid themselves into thinking good times are on the horizon as job losses have increased exponentially each month for nearly an entire year so far, but like I said, maybe I'm the idiot here. However, with this e'er-growing jobless class of society comes relief, in the form of companionship amongst the worried, broke, and hopeless. Within every gathering I've attended over the past month, across a few different groupings of folk, most have similar worries in mind even if the majority still retain employment, but nobody is jumping out the window. Most recognize what is happening and are trying not get too bogged down by debt, dismay, and despair. Instead, we can all hold hands and sing together, free songs from the public domain at least, while we wait for this ship to be righted in 2009...2010...2011...?

Anyhow, I did some grocery shopping today. Sure, at least a few times a week I walk across the street to Ye Olde Locale Markete to grab a handful of items like bread, chips, and other monosyllabic sundries, but today was the first time I've done The Shopping by myself in many years. Not that I ever considered myself one of those hopelessly idiotic single males as portrayed on television, breaking half the kitchen apart attempting to fry an egg only to end up lighting the microwave on fire, as when I lived alone for 3 years I survived on at least a moderately healthy diet of pasta, chicken, fish, frozen vegetables, scotch, and Alberto's. Today was fucking pathetic though, I had a list o' 15 things to purchase and it took me 40 minutes to finish up. In one aisle, I found olive oil. Circled around for a few minutes, returned to the same aisle for beans. Repeat said circling, found soy sauce on that same fated aisle. Jumped about like an idiot trying to remember where the tofu lives, discovered it exactly next to the other vegetarian items I had already grabbed 20 minutes prior, and once again found myself back at that same stupid aisle for a sack of brown rice. Surely I must be done with this vile specific location, I'll go to some other region for something else on my list. Nope, there's that macaroni I should have known would be 2 feet away from the gnocchi I snagged half an hour ago. Jesus! Once I finally gave up trying to find salsa within this same immediate area, because surely everything I need must be right here, and finally discovering it next to the tortilla chips that by now was gathering dust in my cart, I was on my way. What a maroon.

"Ach, I'm bad at this!"

Unemployment Shower

2008-11-05T09:39:00.000-08:00

So yesterday I did a whole lot of nothing. Most of the time I get up in the morning, eat something, peruse job ads for a spell hopefully finding a few to apply to or at least research further, check various personal interest sites around the 'net (read: pornography), maybe clean a few dishes and water the plants, put on some pants to go for a walk to pick up an essential sundry or two from the store, and a few other necessary daily activities. Not yesterday though. Sure, I walked across the street to go vote, but afterwards I came back, removed my clothing to quickly return to Pajama Land long before even noon, and then played Chrono Trigger / re-read Book VII of Harry Potter most of the day, awaiting the pending exit poll results. Nothing much doing really.

Yet at the end of the evening, I took a shower anyhow. Why? Sure, I walked about 1.5 miles total on two brief jaunts throughout the day, but it was cold enough that no sweat was broken, and it's not like I did any actual work beyond defeating Golem Boss. Cleanliness I required not, but went through the motions anyhow. Oh sure, my curls will look their brightest for one more day, but it really wasn't necessary. Maybe I'm just trying to feel like an active part of society, within a few more weeks I'll start getting up at 6am to shave, hastily put a nice suit on, grab an empty briefcase, commute 40 miles away to some giant mirrored building, waltz in importantly, take a shit in their public bathroom, and then spend the rest of the day sleeping in my car before returning home sometime after 5pm. Image is everything.

Where have all the cowjobs gone?

2008-10-31T10:21:00.000-07:00

When I first got laid off I was a little shocked, slightly upset, and somewhat itchy, but I decided to treat it as an opportunity to go and do bigger and better things with my time, as even if for less money it hopefully would call for a little more soul fulfillment. I worked in construction since 1999, and continually advanced in pay and stature since the beginning, but never quite enjoyed it. Although I didn't flat out hate it (constantly), I regularly had to convince myself that it wasn't so bad and that I should stop bitching about it day in day out. Abject tolerance I suppose. So after panicking for first three days of unemployment, I manned up to the thought that things wouldn't be so bad, and decided to pursue something I enjoyed. This was my chance to escape a field for which I had little patience remaining, the time to leave was years ago but I simply got a slow start, and needed that final exterior push. Goodbye construction, now comes the time when I must conceive something related to music, literature, computers, or booze to spearhead this new career endeavour. I have skills in each, a Bachelor's degree to boot, and since I secured my first freelance writing assignment and an interview with a newspaper within the opening 5 days of receiving Herr Axe, I figured this new venture would pose no problem whatsoever. Oh, what ill-conceived foresight. Since then I have had zero further writing assignments, and just one additional interview, which was for a construction job no less. Yes, I started applying to those even though I pseudo-vowed never to work in that industry again because I, much like Mr. T before me, need work.

Now, this isn't meant to be a tale of woe, at least on an individual level, because even after nearly 3 months of receiving no form of paycheck other than the government unemployment stipend, the woman and I are still stand on relatively okay financial ground, which I could attribute to me predicting a financial tsunami well over a year ago and not lining us up into debt as much as possible while trying, a little, to prepare for this worst, but really it is because said woman has always been frugal which has taught me much about stretching every dollar possible, even when not necessary because just in case, sometimes the unpredictable is, well, unpredicted, and furthermore whoa baby this sentence is eternally long, time to end it with a single misplaced word: buns. No, the point of all this is the following emboldened (embiggened?) sentence:

There are no jobs.

(click the image to see the whole thing, since Blogger's image size limits suck ass)

I look for jobs every day, and rarely do I apply for openings that are obviously well over my head, instead hunting for those that my qualifications appear to match, but it is pretty difficult to find any at all, and even more difficult to get so much as a "thanks, but no thanks" from anyone. Sure, my resume could just be shit, or perhaps my email is one of thousands per second received, part of the large chunk roundly ignored by an overwhelmed HR department, but the fact remains that this type of response is discouraging at best. Now, as I stated above, this isn't a call to Cry For Me, Argentina, so it is best I carry on to what it was I initially started this whole mess about earlier this morning, because contrary to former opinion I don't just make this all up as I go along. No really, I don't. Always. Anyhow.

The local factory didn't close, the state didn't suffer a massive earthquake, the country isn't going through a painfully individual period of growth/stress, no. This problem is global. Everything is adding up to a complete and total shitstorm, almost completely worldwide. Which, oddly enough, gives me hope. When one person falls on hard times, it is a personal tragedy laced with feelings of "well why doesn't he just get off his arse and ____________," no matter how secretly whispered such utterances are displayed. When a substantial group plummets, not tied to one singular entity, the world takes notice. Now, I don't expect some great banding togetherness good time happy fun For All Mankind, and I don't think "well, someone will do something about it!" because the only Something done was to give banks $700 billion to make sure their annual bonuses were paid, but when even the price of housing and gas has come down recently, I see that little money does, quite literally, talk. If there is no demand for even two of Western Life's basic necessities, does anyone really think that conspicuous consumption will survive this mess? I welcome this shift in attitude, and sure, it could be a flash in the pan once the credit cards markets thaw, but I'm hoping this attitude becomes everlasting throughout at least another full generation or three, much like the frugality witnessed by those that survived the Great Depression for years upon years. Last year I envisioned the torch and pitchfork chasing down the richers on Mulholland Drive, and while I don't quite see that happening anymore (except in my dreams), the possibility remains that enough will truly be enough, as the carrot is gone, and now is the time to target the rider, or at least give him a stern talking-to, refusing to purchase his uselessly peddled wares.

Now before anyone says BUT LESS MONEY SPENT MAKES THE ECONOMY WORSE LOLZ!!!11 I'll say shut the fuck up and go back to sucking off your god damn Visa commercials. The world still requires plenty of local services, and since oil is in finite supply, a bolstering of said localities should be more than in order by now, which, huzzah huzzah, will create work. Regardless of your thoughts of Peak Oil, the wells will all be dry some day, and planning ahead for anything known to be around the corner, whether said darkened alleyway is months, years, or decades away, can truly never be too soon. Bring back the local farms, build upon the already existing mass-transit rail system, and fund renewable energies as opposed to failing banks. It will take time, but while last year we needed it to secure our future, today it is required to heal the present. Put me to work!

Useless Degree

2008-10-29T00:27:00.000-07:00

So I was fumbling about the other night, and not that this was some chunk of Golden Advice from a Trusted Source, but it was an interesting concept I came across: don't put your higher education credentials on your resume. Apparently some employers think that those that have a Master's degree somehow feel a sense of entitlement, and therefore said resume will quickly be roundfiled so as to avoid even thinking about such smarminess gracing new presence.

Perhaps this just another case of being overqualified for something, which basically translates to "we don't like your kind 'round here, boy," but I smell something worse. This is a further example of the erosion of knowledge, truth, and justice in this country, because it's not already enough that we hate poor people, we're starting to hate them educated types as well. What would you know, college boy? Sure, having a piece of paper stating I Went To La Escuela does not guarantee intelligence, but it can't possibly be a detriment for a job interview. Well, so I thought.

Where does this idea come from? Have we become a nation of idiots so duped by Faux News and other similar outlets that the truth has become extremely relative to the point that any excuse to shun it is commonplace, expected, and encouraged? Of course this attitude is nothing new, a great man like Abraham Lincoln was able to pretend he was just yer average cornpoke to get done what was necessary in his day, but even with noble instances such as that, the enduring response to this attitude frightens me. Granted, it doesn't take a genius to graduate college (I got my Bachelor's with maybe a 60% rate of attending class), but this reaction to an educated class cannot possibly be healthy for future generations of this land. It's bad enough tuitions have become so high as to keep increasingly not-so-lower income types out, but perhaps that is part of the big plan to keep this club exclusive: the richers will have it, the have nots shall hate it.

Oh well. I'm confused by all this, yet I still can't even figure out why people still eat at McDonald's. Maybe I'm attempting to surmount too large a hurdle. Like I said, level of education is not always indicative of intelligence. At least I can still find solace in The Bizarre Reverend.

Two Months

2008-10-08T09:33:00.000-07:00

Well, in about 5 hours I'll have completed my Second Full Month of unemployment. Hooray! I keep looking for jobs, digging far to find any that I may qualify for with little hope to see more than one or two new ones pop up per week, frantically send out an expertly crafted cover letter and resume, only to... be completely ignored. D'OH!

Anyhow, here is a list of books I have read so far:

The Dream-Quest of Unknown Kadath by H.P. Lovecraft
This quickly flew up the list of my favourite Lovecraft stories. Usually I find his lengthy pieces not quite as rewarding as his shorter works, but this one was definitely an exception. The visuals were incredibly powerful, the characters very memorable, and the story gripping. I felt a little let down by the oversimplified ending but overall I was quite pleased.

The Amber Spyglass by Philip Pullman
This was the third and final book in this His Dark Materials series, which I never entirely loved, but obviously remained interested enough in it to read all three books within a one year period. I found myself occasionally glossing over the details of some passages, to me it seemed like a bit could have been trimmed to make the story flow a little better, but at the same time it was quite easy to get lost within and watch the chapters fly by. The Golden Compass movie was awful by comparison, as they changed far too many details, reduced the venom of the anti-religious aspect, and quite literally dropped the real ending. If they end up making movies two and three, they had better improve things, post haste!

The Wood Beyond the World by William Morris
Magical. Amazing. Wondrous. The only thing wrong was that the ending was too short, but I'm searching for something to complain about really, this was incredible. Written in 1894 and a precursor to many great things, I can't imagine anyone even vaguely interested in fantasy literature not loving, or at the very least respecting, this work. Given that this is now part of the public domain, nobody has any excuse not to read this.

Tortilla Flat by John Steinbeck
First Steinbeck, finally decided that I should join these ranks I suppose. I was not very impressed the first 50 pages, and usually if a book doesn't grab me by then, I give up. However, I sallied forth and was pleasantly surprised on numerous occasions. The simple lifestyle of the pro/antagonists was perhaps a little mocking at times, but nonetheless enjoyable. The world may return to such basic existence soon enough, and honestly, things could be a lot worse than living in a small town fighting over jugs of wine simply for lack of anything better to do.

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince by J.K. Rowling
Second time I've read this one, just felt like going through it again before the movie comes out in November OH WAIT Warner Brothers is trying to squeeze a few extra shekels from the summer crowds. Joke is on them, nobody will be able to afford even a simple movie ticket by July, 2009! But seriously, what a dick move. Fuck them. As it were, this book lost none of its power the second time through. Since I already know the full outcome I was able to pick up on certain things I may have missed the first go round, but the fact remains that Rowling is quite the amazing author indeed. Sure, her style may be aimed at a younger audience, but that doesn't mean she isn't compelling. The Lord of the Rings was written for Tolkien's children after all, and while I doubt anything will ever surmount that amazing pinnacle of literature, I think history will at least place the Harry Potter series in a nearby rung.

One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich by Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn
Well for starters, my life isn't that bad. At all. Really. I mean christ, jesuspoop. I didn't like this book as much as I expected, but watching how dedicated Shukhov was to his difficult life requirements (I'm not sure how else to refer to his daily arrangements, as his tasks aren't chores, his ways of survival not rewarding, and his living not a lifestyle), was a very sobering experience. We may all end up in prison camps some day, and it might behoove one to be at least a little prepared.

OUTTA THE CAR, LONGHAIR!

2008-09-30T11:07:00.000-07:00

So, I'm not entirely sure if it is true, but there is a general stereotype about long-haired males, at least in America. Sure, once or twice I fell "victim" to such assumptions, but I don't think it really is as prevalent as it was in days gone by. Although one time the neighbour across the street saw me checking the mail (after living here for over a year), and I'm pretty sure she thought me a thief. Cool.

Anyhow, just in case this crap is factual more often than not, I came up with several different hairstyles to present to potential employers, for us shaggy manwoman types:

The Awaiting Final Surgery:

The Steven Seagal:

The What Drug Test, Man?

The Rapist:

The Should Not Operate Heavy Machinery:

The Crying Game:

I hope that the '60s revivalist in you can find a boring office job with just a little bit of my help.

Statisticianationalizing

2008-09-30T10:38:00.000-07:00

52 days.
45 resumes.
2 interviews.

There are all kinds of reasons I can be turned down for a job, but the vast majority of these people ignore what I have to offer, and I'm not going too far out of my field(s) or anything. Either my resume has too many swear words (I cut it down to 5 just recently), or the job market blows. Maybe both. Maybe neither! After all, THE FUNDAMENTALS OF THE ECONOMY ARE STRONG.

Sure, I was going to avoid politics with this blog and try just regale this select audience with personal tales of woe/wonder, but really, how can it be avoided? It is clearly obvious what is going on here: unemployment is skyrocketing because of all the irrational exuberance from the lovely banks currently tanking, which of course was caused by lax regulation standards from the government, many of which stemmed from Alan Greenspan and the repeal of the Glass-Steagall Act in 1999. Granted, there are peaks and valleys all the time with such things, but the grand scheme of it all is looking pretty bad for anyone that relies on a paycheck, and nearly all of us do. When I first arrived at the last company I worked for, I knew that staying employed would not be the easiest thing in the world because of the pending economic slump that anyone in the housing industry should have noticed early in 2006. I worked in residential construction from 1999 to 2008, and I tell you what, there was a massive shift in frequency of work by March of 2006. All of a sudden we went from up 10 new projects a day coming in the door to maybe 5 per month. It was, quite literally, as if someone had shut off the tap. So, one can point many a finger, including several at myself, but if the overall economy was not currently in a tailspin, few would have more than a digit or two to aim toward anything (there are of course a multitude of exceptions, but let's just discuss willing and able employees for the time being). The overwhelming majority of people I know that are currently out of work, including myself, WANT TO WORK. Sure, the first few weeks of sitting around were a little fun, once the initial panic wore off, and I'm very glad that I beat Final Fantasy IV for the first time ever without using someone else's save data (I last played this game in 1995), but fuck me sideways, I'm gettin' a wee bit bored. Granted, if the government would continue sending me the meager unemployment stipend I receive twice a month for the rest of my days, my desire to work would be quite a bit lessened. But I know this isn't a free ride. This is simply a cushion to use between jobs/careers/daysouls so that I can still pay them billz, and it will be gone much quicker than it took for them to send me the initial check. So yes, indeed, quite, rather, sure, yes, you got it: put me back to work. College graduate, strong back, good with the typing and the talking, $17.30 an hour minimum, and I'll do anything. Call me.

Hey, it was either blab about this or bitch about the difficulties I'm having trying to get COBRA health coverage right now. Yeah, that paragraph up there just got a whole lot more interesting, didn't it.

The Classifieds

2008-09-26T10:45:00.000-07:00

So, since I've had a decent career with only two employers over the past 9 years, I haven't unfolded the classifieds much. Sure, periodic displeasure with corporate what have yous forces a scan or two of Monster.com and perhaps even a posted resume or three every great once in awhile, but I haven't honestly picked up The Classifieds in the local paper for almost a decade. Until today! Fun facts:

The Press-Enterprise
172,593 daily circulation
27 job openings

Granted, this isn't a Sunday paper chock full of more nooses than neckties, but still, if that isn't a sign, well then I'll be your mother's Uncle Monkey walking door to door in his new neighbourhood announcing his most recent sexual offense. There are no jobs right now, even local bands are having a hard time getting gigs these days because bars can't afford to have them play (and believe you me, we don't see much cash from these deals). Eight straight months of job losses with certainly more to come, especially since this has been the most tumultuous month for Wall Street in years, which, even though only a select portion of the population are affected by the Daily Dive, such reverberations are felt throughout the country, if not entire world. Some talk about things "getting better" but we haven't even come close to bottoming out just yet since The Powers That Be are trying their damnedest to delay the tsunami that everyone simply must face. But hey, at least the fundamentals of our economy are strong, right?

I've really been ignoring this blog lately, mostly because of all the financial turmoil going on that has caused me to rant and have at that other blog, which you can find at Ugly and Swearing if you are so inclined.

Psychobabble

2008-09-10T13:34:00.000-07:00

So therapists/psychologists/streetpersons always say there are the 5/9/14/whatever Stages of ________ that people go through, right? Well okay, I've been at this for over a month now, and if that doesn't qualify me to make the same assumptions that the ivory tower types have, well then I'll be an uncle farting on a monkey.

Stage One: Panic
What I'm I going to do what will I tell my friends what about my family oh no we'll be out in the streets come Monday morning what will this do to my credit score and chances of buying a new SUV in 4 years oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck.

Stage Two: Anger
Those jerkoffs got rid of me? Got rid of ME?! I hope they all die a painful flaming death in the flames of death, but not before the whole company collapses. Assholes!

Stage Three: Momentary Happiness
Well hey, I've deserved a vacation like this for years, might as well take advantage of it. Well, until my car payment is due next week anyhow.

Stage Four: Innovation
I think I'll start handbuilding custom lawnmowers to supplement my unemployment checks.

Stage Five: Reemergence of Panic
Oh shit are you serious I'm really still unemployed and without means of survival what am I going to do the neighbours are suspicious now because I check the mail every day at 1pm in my undies they'll call the cops tomorrow I just know it oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck.

Stage Six: Video Games
I haven't done a 14 hour Tekken marathon since I was in college!

Stage Seven: Education
I should probably go back to school or at least earn my Class A license so I can drive children to school.

Stage Eight: Content / New Job Found / Suicide
Fuckit.

First Month

2008-09-08T12:19:00.000-07:00

It has now been one month since I was laid off. This experience has been a little itchy, and I have learned the following 5 important things:

1) Monster.com blows.
2) Most people ignore your emails and resumes.
3) Internet scams are alive and well.
4) Not working is a little boring at times.
5) I can easily sleep 10 hours straight on a nightly basis.

Other than watching the rest of Season 4 of Futurama (I left off about halfway through during the transition period between my last two jobs early in 2007, since the previous company made it illegal for me to work for a few weeks there), I have not accomplished anything too grand, other than making the following decision concerning New Job:

No matter what I do, it must involve at least one of the following subjects: music, literature, alcohol, and computers.

These are the four things I know, these are the four things I love. Do I want another desk job? No, no I do not. But if I can somehow make it fall under one of those four criteria, so be it. Today begins the Well, Okay Then part of my journey, where I have to get serious about finding this new job of mine, instead of just half-assedly tossing resumes hither, thither, and yon. HAVE AT YOU!

Housework

2008-08-29T15:11:00.000-07:00

So since I'm the one sitting at home with the woman working 4 to 6 days a week, it really is only fair that I pick up a little of the household chore slack. I try to cook more often, do the dishes, run to the store for various crap (this is part of my exercise routine even, hooray two dead birds!), and take care of daily garbage that everybody hates but some people have to do. Note: I'm not trying to put myself on a pedestal here, after all we've only been together for a bit over 2 years, let's see what a Super Guy I am after 20 years of marriage. Anyhow, my jobsearching lately is following an obscure schedule, sometimes skipping the usual morninglooking and browsing Monster.com during 2am insomniac sessions instead, so I have a little more free time during the daylight hours. I can only watch the same Simpsons episodes so many times in a row before I get sick of them, at least until the next day cometh, so why not grab a mop or vacuum from time to time? Granted, when I lived alone I never bothered cleaning much of anything (just ask my friends who were afraid to use my bathroom, even if they were hosed), but hey, I'm a responsible, jobless adult now, so I must rise, take up thy broom, and sweep!

The Wasp Battle

2008-08-26T11:18:00.000-07:00

Like pretty much everyone else in Southern California, wasps/hornets/yellowjackets are always a bit of a nuisance, if not outright dangerous problem. While growing up, my parents had a vast backyard (by suburban standards at least), which was home to a good amount of fruit trees that required regular servicing. Being within the male age range of 8 to 16 at the time, my chores mostly consisted of taking care of said arboretum, so I've had quite the dealings with my fair share of entomology in my day. The first time I was attacked by hornets was by the big lemon tree we had, when I was probably 11. The result of which had me running and screaming for dear life, only to be filled with welts for several days, and a fear of those black and yellow bastards that would last for half a decade, if not longer. Fortunately by the time I got my next wasp sting I was a bit older, and my reaction was limited to saying "OW! Well, that sucked." However the next day I had a red lump on my forearm 2 inches wide by at least 6 inches across, with a decent height of probably 1/2 an inch. Thankfully, other than itching uncontrollably for a full day, no further effects were noticed. However, as if anyone didn't already know, wasps are not to be trifled with if at all possible.

So last night the woman and I returned from a typical evening stroll, and upon entering the front door she pointed up at something odd. Since our porchlight recently died I wasn't immediately sure what it was, but I had good idea. The wasps that had lived in our eaves, until their recent displacement from due to condo painting, were now attempting new residence on the trim of our front door. Normally if the stinging ones are far enough away from direct openings to my domicile, I leave them alone. Yet this aggression would not stand, man, so I gave them a warning in the form of a direct blast of 90psi thumbsqueeze hosing. Since we have been invaded by far too many ants recently as well, I have gone from my strict policy of saving every critter possible (I have a dedicated Spider Cup on the bookshelf by our front door), to outright murder without hesitation. I do not enjoy this, but have been left with little choice as of late.

So, this morning was to be the final Front Door Painting, which would complete the cycle of displacing the old off-brown colour of our aging wood trim with the flourishing off-grey scheme that now supplants it. This required the front door to be open for several hours, starting around 10am. This does not bode well I mused, but did not worry too much as I had checked the wasping region several times during the preceding time before Vast Opening, only to notice that the buggers removed last night were nowhere in sight. Once the painter had completed his task and alerted me to the fact that the door should remain open for next 2 hours, I was sitting upon my perch at the computer becoming increasingly frustrated with attemping to find employment, as per usual. An odd feeling descended upon my person, and I slowly got up to inspect the living room. Three miniature B-52 bombers had taken up residence on our 14 foot tall ceiling. TO ARMS!!!

15 minutes later, the wasps were dead and gone. I mourn their passage, but do not regret their absence. I do not think the Swiffer I started off with survived the skirmish without a few scars, but the only other casualty came in the form of a few new bends in the front miniblinds, and perhaps a small bleach stain on the living room rug. I may have won the battle, but what of the greater war still at hand?

Anyhow, fuck the paint. I shut the front door an hour early.

Friday Excitement

2008-08-22T19:25:00.000-07:00

"Laurel and Hardy's the best bet at 4am on a Friday.
No dreads about the working day after though.
Funny thing about weekends when you're unemployed.
They don't mean quite so much,
except you get hang out with your working friends."
--Primus

I got my first Weekends Off job in 1999, and my roommate at the time told me on one of the first Friday evenings: "dude, you look so happy to not have to work weekends anymore." For months, literally, I would yell "Weekends OFF!!!" on nearly every such 2-day celebration occasion. The heavy dose of beer and whisky I enjoyed far too much of during college (and for several years afterwards) had nothing to do with my enthusiasm, I can assure you.

So today is marks the end of my second week of unemployment, and I arrived home this evening around 7pm in full excitement of the normal Friday relief of yet another week in the rat race. Granted, I don't have to peruse job offers for the next two days, but other than that there won't be much of a difference this so-called Week End than the now usual daily activity reserved for me, but I feel practically giddy right now. Maybe it's because now, after the initial 2-week grace period is complete, I can finally turn in my unemployment paperwork and get that first fat paycheck. CHA-CHING!!!

Boredom

2008-08-20T18:56:00.001-07:00

I'm one of those types who says "if you're bored, you're boring!" because I very rarely, if ever, get bored. However I have noticed that I tend to get brief spells of boredom lately. All my years working, I would generally make good use of my free time, usually getting home from work by 6pm and usually staying up until 1am (or later) reading, writing, listening to and creating music, and, well, spending too much time on the interent where I would read, write, listen to and create music. The other night I noticed that, in my currently unemployed state, I have the freedom to sit around for up to an hour at any given time, doing absolutely nothing, and still have enough spare moments to accomplish everything I need to for the day. My usual schedule these past 8 business days:

9am to 12pm:
Wake up, drink some water, use the facilities, go online to see lack of responses toward resumes sent out the previous day, send out up to 5 more for various job offers.

12pm to 1pm:
Contemplate eating something, get to it eventually, clean up the kitchen.

1pm to 5pm:
Read a whole lot with periodic breaks to wander online doing nothing in particular.

5pm to 7pm:
Repeat the whole eating/cleaning ritual with company in the form of my employed girlfriend upon her triumphant daily return to our domicile.

7pm to 2am:
Read some more, watch a movie, enjoy some quality time with the better half, spend at least 1 hour doing absolutely fucking nothing, read/write/movie/www/music/repeat.

2am to 4am:
Periodically wake up on the couch with the lights still on, finally wander off to bed groggily wishing ill will to myself and others that have done me harm over the years.

There are a lot of gaps there, and considering my system of sending out resumes is down to a veritable science, with nearly all have been ignored/rejected thusfar, my daily tasks are very rarely interrupted by the occasional interview or followup email. Other than those few exceptions, most days have looked like this so far. I think after 13 solid years of employment in my young and full-on adult life I've deserved this bit of a break, but then again the very notion of me justifying that proves that I do, in fact, grow weary with the frustration of it all. I have given myself a complete month to try to find a career in a path I actually desire (writing), but I'm not even at the halfway point and have become a bit bored with all this extra time on, in, above, and out of my hands.

Oh well, at least I've quadrupled my reading habits for the time being.

The Squandering

2008-08-19T00:16:00.000-07:00

Conjecture: when most people are laid off, panic sets in quickly followed by a run up in credit card debt, which is only quelled by new job just before the Repo Depot comes to send your worldly possessions back from whence they came. I do not want to be part of that statistic. Is this an opportunity to run off to LA/NYC/Bangkok and live out my rockstar fantasy? Yes, yes it is. But I do not need that, and realize that luck branches out toward those such fortunate, not the other way around. Besides the fact that my band is located here, not there, and I quite love what we create as one, which is the foundation of my drive in playing music to begin with. Sans that, I have no passion. If LeAnn Rimes stuck her half-bred fivehead inside my door tomorrow asking me to play bass for her next tour, you're god damn right I'd do it, but after one go-round the round-world, I would realize my heart belonged to another: my own. Yet I digress. The point is I have options. I am able to try something I enjoy for a change, rather than jump into the lap of the first White Collared Hell that wanders my way.

I'm a writer. I belong to the word. I may not complete my first book in time to go back to the simple-minded drudgery I became too much a part of and have not the level of blue blood necessary (read: any whatsoever) to avoid indefinitely, but hopefully I can accomplish something in said genre of being. I have a few months to attempt just that, and I will not allow myself to blow it. At least, not entirely. Hopefully.

Reposado Tequila and Spicy Beef Jerky

2008-08-15T23:30:00.000-07:00

Ah, freedom. Horrible horrible freedom. Freedom from having to go to work every day. Freedom from waking up at a reasonable hour. Freedom from being able to pay all your bills, much earlier than on time, without having to consult the checking account because there's always enough money in reserve... whoops.

Last year was the first time I started paying any serious attention to the economy. Since I was a political science major in college, I always had at least a passing interest in all thinks monetary when it comes to state actors, but I just recently realized that the reasoning behind my interest finally becoming piqued concerning the whole madness behind it all was due to the fact that this current economic downturn, which I became knowledgeable about around Q2 2007, was the first such occurence where I was My Own Man and had responsibilities of myself and others resting upon my forehead. The last recession in the US was in 2001, when I was still getting drunk 16 times a day while ditching most classes as I finished off my degree (perhaps a little more sluggishly than I should have but hey, I only stuck around for one additional quarter beyond my four year allotment). Back then my bills consisted of a $325 room for rent and basic automotive repairs on an 1986 Toyota pickup, not entirely difficult to meet even with a modest salary. Today is different, hence my further concern with How The World Is Falling Apart.

It all changed when I got laid off. I stopped being paranoid about when the dollar would collapse, when gas would run out, and when my (now former) company would finally succumb to bankruptcy. No, now my primary concern is making sure myself and The Woman can continue some semblance of a normal existence. Certain factors have come into play to realize that yes, we'll be fine for a few months without me working, and if Job Not Actualized by year end still reigns supreme, we can make a few adjustments to avoid not becoming streetbound, hopefully without dipping too far into our savings.

So what has this taught me, thusfar? That I'm just as self-centered as everyone else I bitch about in this stupid fucking country. I don't give a shit if things fall apart around me, I'm solely concerned about me and mine. Do I only care about quality of life declining for others when mine is secured, but then every man for hisself when my existence becomes threatened? Is this the Rich Liberal syndrome coming home to roost, donating to every possible leftist campaign while sucking off the tax breaks like a good Neo-Con, and now eating my just desserts? Well okay, perhaps not that far, especially since I've never been rich, but it has given me a bit of pause concerning such attitudes.

Perhaps I should return to more important matters: watching Blazing Saddles for the 14 millionth time.

One Week

2008-08-14T23:44:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow at 2pm marks one week of me in an unemployed state. After 3 days of manic depression ranging from "we'll be fine" to "HOLY LIVING FUCK WE'RE DOOMED!!!" I established acceptance of my position. With zero credit card debt, the year lease on a rental condo expiring in 2 weeks, 11 payments left on my car, the woman's car being liquid, and a small amount of savings between the two of us, there are certainly worse positions to be in. If I can't find work by December 1st, we'll just move somewhere cheaper, like the Yukon. Pretty decent optimism considering we watched Maxed Out tonight.

Anyhow, onto my accomplishments this Initial Seven Day (hopefully) Trial Period:

-one moderately successful job interview, one not so successful business contact phonecall, one paid freelance writing assignment ($25, w00t!), and nine additional prospective job offer emails ignored by their recipients

-one extremely loud band practice utilized to vent frustrations at the world (a very necessary component of my state of being that day)

-finally finished watching Season Four of Futurama

-found a new pornstarslut to umm... meditate to: Priya Rai

-shaved my entire face for the first time in years

-drank 3 beers on Saturday, caught a pretty sweet buzz (2x Chimay Blue, 1x Chimay Red, and believe you me sister, skip the Red and go straight for the Blue)

-multiple miles of speedwalking while listening to Deströyer 666 (this was key to my sanity this week)

-started a new blog

-bored myself and up to three others with said new blog

So yeah, I'm okay. I won't start panicking (again) for at least a few more days.

First Interview

2008-08-12T12:03:00.000-07:00

What do I wear what should I say how do I look what's my motivation should I shave what kind of cologne should I put on do you think flowers are too much for a first interview what about if we go to lunch am I supposed to pay are my teeth too yellow will my voice crack can she tell I jerked off in the bathroom 10 minutes prior what if my genes don't match up to their charts what about my political leanings am I too left too right too curvy too straight I've got long hair is that a deal killer does she think I'm a pothead or just a dirty hippie but maybe I'm too old too young over/under qualified and I went to the wrong school and got the wrong degree and she probably knows about that one time I cheated on an art history test by copying someone's answers that were wrong so I failed anyhow and maybe I should have paid more attention in gym class because I could be in the NFL now even if I never did sign up for football to begin with but what about winning the lottery because god damn is that cheap and easy but not very practical and the odds suck anyhow but hey maybe I'll start working out and sign myself up for pornography I'm sure my girlfriend will be okay with that as long as we can cover the bills and maybe a little extra on the side but oh wait I'm still at this interview I hope I didn't doze off or had my eyes glaze over holy shit did I really just yell out a profanity for no apparent reason well maybe she didn't notice I'll just pretend it never happened and maybe she'll follow my lead and OH NO I FORGOT TO WEAR PANTS.

First Monday

2008-08-11T14:39:00.001-07:00

Today is the first Monday of this journey into joblessness. My career in residential construction, which I began in 1999, ended this past Friday. I was not entirely shocked, as construction in general along with the economy as a whole have been tanking a bit recently. I may have over 13 years of work experience under my belt, but of the four workplaces I have been a weekly paycheck recipient thereof, this was the first to tell me to take a hike rather than the other way around. It felt a little different, if by a little different I mean the opposite of satisfying combined with the gosh-I-almost-felt-it mental kick to the teeth. So far I have heard back from four potential new employers: two were scams, one "thanks but no thanks," and a final possibility that I submitted a paid writing sample to just this morning.

I went to the store a short time ago, first heading out to my car to scrounge up the Emergency Jackson I keep in the ashtray, so as not to dip into the blank account just so fast. I walked there, not so much for exercise, but rather to conserve any amount of gasoline that I can. No I'm not that effing broke just yet, but in case this turns into a longer stint that I'm hoping, might as well get used to the Cheap Bastard ways as soon as I can. At the store I spent a solid 30 minutes shopping for 10 items, just to make sure I unleashed the most cost effective ways of everything possible:

Well okay, I did splurge on the mayo and relish for my Daily Tuna Serving, but only because I can't stomach even purchasing anything with high fructose corn syrup in it, no matter how poor I may become.

Introduction

2008-08-08T15:00:00.000-07:00

On Friday, August 8th, 2008, I was laid off. I'm 29 years old, and this is the first time I have been unemployed since I was 16, back in 1995. Since I currently have nothing better to do anyhow, now is the time for me to write. Thankfully internet porn is still free.