..and then he said, and then she said, and I said

2009-08-31T09:29:00.000-07:00

Right now, as I sit here at the keyboard, off to my right, I'm looking at a book called The Art of Civilized Conversation. I guess it's called an art because so few people can actually speak in coherant sentences. I mean talk to another person, face to face, full eye contact, and speak with some semblence of intelligence. Do people need a book? Have we become so computer dependant, so LOL and OMG deficient that we need a book on how to speak? I need a book that's titled, "Shut the F*ck Up and Listen for Once in Your Life." It's diffcult to understand that anyone over age two needs a book that teaches the somone how to speak. I mean WTF?

Hacking a Living Over 50

2009-08-29T12:28:00.000-07:00

Just got off the phone with my friend Ella in Florida. She's single, an artist and over 50. She's been living off piece-meal jobs for best part of 15 years, a fairly good living that afforded her a comfy home on a lily pad filled canal in a lush neighborhood a few miles from the beach. She's got an in-ground pool and, at one time, earned enough financial promise from art sales to feed her army of cats. Then the job/money/art sales pieces started to disappear. Money was scarce and bankruptcy imminent. Her Masters degree in English, and 30 years in journalism, wasn't able to stand up to the rushing tide of younger candidates. The world went electronic and she didn't know if her online resumes were finding their destinations. "No one calls," she complained. "How do I know if they got it?"
Used to be when someone with an education sent a resume a kind letter followed that said something like, "We have received your resume but unfortunately have filled the position," or "The job has been filled by a 20-year-old with big boobs and an empty head for a fraction of what we'd pay you." Or whatever.
The lack of interaction that today's electronic world has created perplex her.
"I am invisible," she says. "In America when you're over 50 you do not exist. I'm a ghost."
She's been trying to write, do pottery, freelance edit a health magazine that just went belly-up, sell art. She's answered every ad imaginable with no reply. Her online time on Craigslist looking for jobs probably qualifies for a Ripley's record. Nada.
"I might as well be dead" she said with alarm in her voice. "If I had the strength to open a bottle of pills I would."
She doesn't really want to kill herself. She wants a job, security and to keep her home. I told her she is not alone, that many people are in her situation. My neighbor shuts off his circuit breakers to the hot water heater to save $20 a month. My other friend, a lawyer, who can't get her 1st and 2nd mortgage, with the same bank, blended into one single mortgage with a lower interest rate, is selling because they can't afford the house plus her staggering school loans. It's all around us. My only advice to Ella was to keep packing boxes in the event she needs to sell her home quickly, and, until she finds a job, do something, anything - walk, run, paint, dance, keep a journal - just do something to keep busy or she'll lose her mind.

Life On The Half Shell

..and then he said, and then she said, and I said

Hacking a Living Over 50