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Yesteryear

Saturday, January 10, 2009

January 10, 2009

           Remember the Chinese philosopher who cut off the sleeve of his robe rather than disturb the sleeping cat? This is the table I can’t tidy up for much the same reason. This is the shady side of the room, facing north. The cat checks out everything and likes to plop down on anything new in the whole place. That’s why I hesitate to paint anything. Yes, she is putting on weight.
           Another day devoted mainly to scanning the job ads only to conclude that a lot of the ads are phony. There are far more ads than jobs and those ads continue long after a real job would have been filled. I won’t supply the details, but over the years I’ve developed a series of techniques to test the truthfulness of a given ad. I can tell you right now, that unless you have a credit card, you are probably wasting your time applying for any ad that has been listed for longer than four days. There is no job, they just want your resume and you can take it from there.
           Behind this topic is my response to a question I can’t answer: how does one become a writer? You don’t, at least not any more. What most are really asking is how do you get paid for writing? Mostly, you do not and I can tell you the days of $1.50 per word are long gone. Same as the $200 per musician gig.
           Writing bestsellers is not glamorous. Your chance of instant success is not based creativity or originality. Most writing “jobs” require a degree in journalism. Look up the study program for that degree. They’ve turned the training ground into an obstacle course. What do I care about “Modern Problems In Mass Media Communications”? That’s the publisher’s job.
           Writing for money is one of the most contrived occupations possible. The insiders behave like a town council; making sure the only things allowed are those that can be taxed. Existing writers know true overnight sensations hurt market share. Employers don’t want samples of what you’ve written. Only samples of what you’ve published. Big difference My conclusion is that you cannot make a living writing full time and there are no part-time positions available in this century. Just write, dammit.
           I walked through the ever-burgeoning “large print” section of the Hollywood Library. If you go through those aisles to see if there are any books of useful information, you’ll find they must all be checked out. It can’t be that people with poor vision only read comic books and chicken-brained fiction. Besides to a one they wrecked their eyesight from reading all those Math and Science books when they were younger. Am I right or am I right?
           Around noon, I received a letter today suggesting that I qualify for government job placement, not to be misconstrued as applying for a government job. Years ago I filled out some forms at a seminar and said yes, I would like to be considered for slack-ass subsidized work programs. It seems, since I am over 30, all I have to do is hesitate when they ask me if I am a victim of “ageism”. Yes, of course. That’s it! Ageism. That’s what I’ve got.
           At DJ Steve’s invite, I went to the Mardi Gras (casino) for an hour. It was semi-deserted but I still couldn’t find him. Nobody knew when the dog races were commencing. I’ve been there a couple times so I walked around all the floors in case I’d missed anything. Nope. They were giving away free cash once an hour but that is a long stretch to listen to the “doodley-doodley” of the slots. Don’t expect any James Bond types where there are 2-cent gambling machines.
           It’s a mystery to me why they have so many security people or signs that say you have to be over 21. Trust me, they don’t have to worry unless there been some outbreaks of line-dancing. The security could be for manners, they say only plain-looking people need manners. Didn’t Lincoln or somebody point out pretty people can act any way they please?
           My job search kept me at the computer for six hours. Nothing unusual about that. A lady dropped off a computer for repair and when she returned to pick it up, she asked if I had been “playing on the computer all this time”. I informed her I never played on a computer, to which she replied I did because she had seen me “playing” once in the morning and again in the afternoon. When she left, both Fred and Mike pointed out she was Canadian. That explains it all.
           I am looking for a new cellular company. Soon after, expect a real blast against Metro PCS for their sordid behavior. I say once a grade of service is offered, that is a contract and the phone companies can seek their profits by other means than canceling a service I already paid for.