Have you ever reached that point in your life when you just can't take it anymore? Well, I have. I was sitting on the couch on a Monday morning, staring at the list of possible employment options. I read through all of them, which took about ten seconds. If only I was an Engineer with fifteen years of experience, or maybe a Marketing Manager with exact industry experience and a Master's degree. Hey, maybe I can go in and just sell them on what a great candidate I am and... oh ya, I can't even get them to look at my resume, that's right. Besides, I tried that on the last 30 interviews and they hired the other guy.
Face it Bob, you're 51 years old with 20 plus years of experience and a salary range that seasoned professionals would envy. Why would they want me when they can hire the young guy with five years of experience, and at a salary half of what I have asked for?
But, But... I'll work for less. I don't have to make that much, not any more!
Ya Bob, they've heard it all before. Ya see, they know you'll not be happy working for that wage and will probably jump ship at the first chance...
No, I don't work that way!
The there's the health care issue. You're going to cost a ton more than the young kid. They just can't take that hit.
So you receive a response like:
Thank you for your interest in our company. We have examined your credentials and, while they are most impressive, we have decided to pursue another candidate. We wish you all the best in your employment search. We will keep your application on file should your qualifications match one of our future openings.
(Between the Lines translation): Look you expensive old fart, why don't you just enjoy your forced retirement and leave the real work to the young folk. Ya, we see that you have extensive experience, but we don't give a rat's behind. Ya see, It's just sales and any clown can do this job. We've put your application in the round file behind our desk and we'll call you when a very hot environment becomes a desolate frozen wasteland.
Wow, thank heavens for Unemployment Insurance.... what? That ran out months ago? But I'm still unemployed. Huh? Oh, I see. That is how Obama plans to decrease the unemployment numbers. Hmmmm Ok, what now? Find some cardboard and a black pen and... no that's not the answer.
I've got it! What about the Bagpipes? I can market myself and play for funerals, weddings, private parties, and the like. So that is what I did. It was slow for months. I visited all the funeral homes, delivering my card and flier and asking for business. I felt kind of like an "ambulance chaser" or maybe in this case it would be, "Hurst Chaser".
Things began happening, but still not enough to pay the bills. One day as I was throwing one resume after another at the allusive dream job, I realized the futility of my activity. It was like fishing in a lake devoid of fish. I had had enough.
It happened one day as I was coming home from playing at a funeral. I was all dressed up with nowhere to go. I decided to try playing on the sidewalk, next to the LDS Conference center at Temple Square (That's a little spot in the center of Salt Lake City for yall not familiar with our fair city). I only played for a half hour and made $6.00. Heeeeyyyyy!
This could actually work! The problem was, I felt like I was doing something wrong, hence the shortness of time spent playing. I had to find a way to do this without the guilt and fear. After extensive and exhausting research (OK fine, after making a phone call) I found out that the City actually encouraged Street Performers. They actually issued permits to do it. I had ta git me one o' those.
Well, after procuring the said permit, the inside ticket, the gold card if you will, the big pass, the... Ok, sorry. Anyway, after getting the permit I felt I could finally start playing. I made my first attempt in the gritty downtown section of Salt Lake. It took guts. After all, this was Main Street, the hub of crime and perversion. One had to be on their guard constantly.
The first thing I realized, as I struck in my pipes, was how they echoed off each and every building. People came from several blocks saying they could hear the tender Celtic strains. They seemed to enjoy it. Soon small bills started appearing in my orange pipe case. I would scoop them up and place them in my secret pocket. When I got home that night I found I had made over $50.00 for just two hours work. That's when I knew I was on the right track. Of course I promptly gave the full amount to some homeless person on the street, I mean come on, I only do this for fun! (That statement was for all the would be tax men out there).
The point of this blog is to share the unique and interesting experiences I have in my continuing adventures as Piper Bob, man about town. I hope you enjoy the read and look at some of my other blogs as well as my writing endeavors. Night All!
