On Unemployment

The weekly reminder that I have still not procured employment arrived in the mailbox today. That itty-bitty check from the unemployment office evokes an interesting mix of relief and humiliation. While it helps buy a few bags of groceries, it's definitely not enough to live on. And with my severance pay running out I am glad I have several good prospects in the queue.

The interviewing process is interesting. With the internet available to research prospective employers, knowing what a company is about (the business side) is fairly easy. What is fun is to ferret out is how you would fit into their personnel puzzle. The kinds of questions the interviewer asks you, who else they bring into the interview, how much they expect you to query them all gives you a little clue about how you would work together. Lots to think about. Keeps me busy in my dreams.

The biggest thing I have to keep in mind is to not lose hope. I tend to obsess a little bit if I don't find five or ten new places to send my resume every day. Obsessing can be a good thing when you something constructive to pick to death. When you are depending on the randomness of pixels flying over the net to take your well-defined qualifications to some faceless potential employer, it can be a little bit nerve wracking when you don't hear anything. Ever. I understand the appeal of employers in putting that wall between their HR department (if it's a large enough company) and the hordes. When you're on this end, though, it occasionally feels like they're telling you to "let them eat cake" when there's no response at all.

So hope. Counting my blessings. All the interviews I have had so far have progressed to second interviews. Several of the companies will go through a third round, and I am optimistic that I will get invited. And there's always the five or ten resumes that I will send out tomorrow.

Truth Matters

Truth matters.
Lies hurt.

Just because you don't speak the lie doesn't mean you're not lying.

Hitting .750

If I were a baseball player and got a hit every three out of four at bats, I would be the greatest baseball player of all time. In the midst of every day life, parents should remember that.

The third of our four children left for college this weekend. We deposited #2 last week in Atlanta, and #1 just started her graduate program in Warrensburg. We have one left at home, and all signs are that despite the bumps in the road, he'll make it out successfully as well. If I were a baseball player, I'd go straight to the hall of fame.

People ask me if I have started feeling the "empty nest." Well, sure. But when I had children, I moved a lot of the other things in my life out of the nest for the season in life of raising them. I am transitioning out of the child season, and looking forward to what the next season of life will bring. The possibilities are so exciting, it's sometimes hard to remember feel sad as the current season draws to a close.

So what will it take to be a good hitter in the next phase?

I was watching when...

My mom always talks about knowing exactly where she was when President John F. Kennedy was assasinated. I think that perhaps I will always remember exactly where I was when the United States men's swimming team won the 4 x 100 freestyle relay at the 2008 Olympics in Beijing. The United States trailed for the majority of the race, and in the last meter, with a Herculean effort, won by .08 seconds, dropping almost four seconds off the world record.

If you haven't seen it, find a video of it. Watching the actual race will be worth your effort. It's truly one of the most exciting finishes to an athletic event that I have ever seen. But then make sure you understand the context.

First, there is the fact that the top five teams all turned in times under world record pace. The top three teams will go home with medals for their efforts. But can you imagine the heartbreak of teams four and five, swimming under world record pace with nothing to show for it in the end? Somehow, telling them that "at least you have the experience of competing in the Olympics", seems a little trite.

Second, there is Michael Phelps, who is attempting to break Mark Spitz's gold medal record by earning 8 gold medals in one Olympics. This was the event where he was most vulnerable to losing that bid. From all reports, he is a driven yet humble athlete who puts himself out at 100% every day. And his hope for his goal is still alive.

Then there is the French relay racer, Alain Bernard, who also is a talented swimmer and is a world record holder in the 100 meter freestyle. But he will probably never be known for that talent. He will always be the one who claimed he and his team could "smash" the Americans in this race, but in the end couldn't deliver.

What about the three American swimmers who swam in the preliminaries, qualifying the team in first position by breaking what was then the world record. The talent pool of American swimmers was so deep that only one of the swimmers (Jones) was able to actually swim in the finals, despite the amazing performance they gave. It is fortunate that all seven of them will be receiving medals. And all seven of them will be able to tell their children and grandchildren that they held a world record.

But my favorite story of this event is the story of Jason Lezak, who swam the final leg. Thirty-two years old, swimming this event for the third time in his third Olympics, had been on the 2000 and 2004 relay teams that had not won gold. Those two teams were the only two teams in over 50 years that had not come home with gold. By the time he dove into the pool last night, he was almost a full body length behind the French swimmer Bernard. He was still behind at the turn. But not wanting to go home without his gold, not wanting to disappoint his team, not wanting to be the reason that Phelps didn't make it to his goal of eight gold medals, he turned in the fastest time for a leg on this relay in history. He had never swum that fast. He probably didn't imagine that he could swim that fast. But he could imagine himself on that top step of the podium. He could imagine the faces of his teammates, and his country, if he didn't swim the race of his life. And he used all his training, all of his 20 years of experience in the pool, all of his heart and soul, and that 32-year-old body to make it happen.

You know, we won't all have the chance to make an impact in so many ways on a world stage. But we can have the same kind of impact with our families, friends, and co-workers. Sacrifice and determination and hard work is all you need. You may not get a gold medal for a reward. You may not even know the impact you have on someone elses life. But there will be an impact. There will be a reward. Never fear. I want that reward. Do you?

Snow in August?

Ah, the joys of teenagers. We got TP'd by some girls last night. Between my handsome 17-year-old son who has dated several of the girls, and his older sister who coaches the girls in basketball, I think we were doomed when they decided to get together for a team building event. I don't really mind the getting TP'd part. I'm glad that those girls think enough of the two of them to make us a stop on their midnight running around. It's the arguing between the two of them about who is going to clean it up that makes my eyes cross and steam come out my ears. At almost 17 and 20, you would think that I would have given them the skills by this point to be able to settle it in a fair way. But I still get the familiar , "Moooommm.... he/she won't...." I hope they can act more adult out in the world.



At what point do we, if ever, make the transition out of seeing our parents as the arbiters of arguements with our siblings? As much as I love my sister, and think she is a great person now, I don't believe I ever really cared what she was thinking when I was growing up. If she had anything against the way I acted, I certainly didn't give it enough credence to commit it to memory. Certainly the fact that we haven't lived together in 30 years, or even in the same state for that period probably has contributed to the genial feelings I have for her now.



Is it the time heals all wounds theory? I can kind of see that with my children now. My oldest, who had multiple issues as a child, didn't have very good social skills. Her siblings kind of saw her as a creature from Mars on her good days, and spawn of the devil on bad days. Time and distance have mostly removed the horns from her head, but they tend to peek out when they spend more than a few hours together.

Doggieness

I'm sitting on my rear tonight, watching the men's gymnastic competition on the Olympic coverage. Kind of a snoozer. The women's beach volleyball was much better. Michael Phelps is amazing. And that 41 year old women's swimmer... I have no words to tell you how much I am in awe of her because my chin is on the floor every time I think about her.

I have two dogs, thus the name of the blog. Gizmo and Ginger are both part basenji. Giz is also part lab, and thus he is an old soul. Ginger is part german shepherd. Since she's just over a year, she's a bit of a wild child still, and the instigator. Right now they are sitting crashed on the other couch next to me. They got a trip to the dog park tonight, so I think they're pretty well worn out. Giz is full of old man groans, which is a pretty good sign for him. And Ginger is sucking her tongue in her sleep. I thought only people did that. More groans. I wish I slept that well.

I am currently jobless, having been RIF'd about three weeks ago from the company where I worked. I had some encouraging initial response to my resume, and I thought I did well with the interviews, but didn't close the deal. So now I am weighing my options. Where does God really want me for this next phase of my life? I am thinking about doing some freelance writing. I suppose that part of the reason for starting the blog is to have some credibility in this digital age as a writer. And so it begins.