Tuesday, April 05, 2005
"You know me, Al..." defined
"You know me, Al..." was the catchphrase for Ring Lardner, one of the most gifted sportswriters of all time. His fictional character, Alibi Ike, was a likeable, talented pitching rube who played in the first quarter of the 20th century. Although he had star quality, "The Busher," as he was also called, could never hear a compliment or complaint without some sort of explanation, often embellishing his role.
Lardner was an amazing talent, writing not just about sports, but composing music and plays as well. His premature death, at the age of 48, robbed American of many more years of entertaining prose and poetry.
Life without unemployment . . .
As I was saying . . .
A lot has happened since I last took finger to keyboard. For one thing, I am now gainfully employed, a writer/editor for the New Jersey Jewish News. I always looked upon my previous job -- public relations for the American Jewish Congress -- as paying my dues. And I paid. And paid. For more than twenty years.
Finally, in 2002, I was downsized, retrenched, insert euphemism here. Most of my friends and business associates, knowing how miserable I had been there, offered the usual encouargement. "You'll see," they said, "this will turn out to be the best thing that ever happened to you."
While collecting full severence for six months was fun, it lulled me into a false sense of security. The time off, even though it was spent looking haphazzardly for work and doing freelance writing, was more like a long vacation. Reality hit when the severence...and unemployment...ran out with no full-time prospects in sight.
Finally, one of my long-time freelance gigs turned into something more substantial, which leads me to where I am today.
Thanks, everybody. You were right.
A lot has happened since I last took finger to keyboard. For one thing, I am now gainfully employed, a writer/editor for the New Jersey Jewish News. I always looked upon my previous job -- public relations for the American Jewish Congress -- as paying my dues. And I paid. And paid. For more than twenty years.
Finally, in 2002, I was downsized, retrenched, insert euphemism here. Most of my friends and business associates, knowing how miserable I had been there, offered the usual encouargement. "You'll see," they said, "this will turn out to be the best thing that ever happened to you."
While collecting full severence for six months was fun, it lulled me into a false sense of security. The time off, even though it was spent looking haphazzardly for work and doing freelance writing, was more like a long vacation. Reality hit when the severence...and unemployment...ran out with no full-time prospects in sight.
Finally, one of my long-time freelance gigs turned into something more substantial, which leads me to where I am today.
Thanks, everybody. You were right.
