Tag: Work

Job Search Updates

The job search is ongoing. My manager said this morning that he’s been told to start the separation paperwork, so I should get some emails next week. I guess the divorce is about to become final.

So, no job, but a couple of prospects on the horizon.

I did update my resume, and that has started calls from some recruiters, so I recommend take a resume course if you’re looking.

I also accidentally discovered the fastest way to find a new job – become a recruiter.

I got a call from a woman in Houston yesterday at 2:25pm. She had a perfect position for me and wanted to discuss it at my earliest convenience. I was in a meeting (ironically with another recruiter), so I missed the call, but I sent her a polite email and said I’d call today.

I called at 11:34am this morning, asked for the recruiter, and the receptionist said, “She’s no longer here. Could someone else help you?”.

I said, “No longer with the firm?” and the receptionist said, “She decided she wanted to follow a different path.”

So, my recruiter found herself a new career and left the firm in a little under 22 hours.

WTF?

I guess if you read job requisitions all day long, eventually, you will see one, and say, “Screw this! I could do this job!” and just send over your resume instead of your client’s.

I wish her good luck in her new career, whatever it may be. I hope she’s not a presales software engineer, as I really don’t need the competition right now.

In the meantime, the receptionist found my by my phone number, found the job requisition in question and gave me the name of my new recruiter, who had just left for lunch. She will call me.

I should have asked, “Are you sure she’s coming back from lunch?”

Permanent Layoff

I was selected as a member of IBM’s Resource Action, Class of March 2017. So, after almost nineteen years at IBM, I am back on the job market, and immediately available.

I consider myself an experienced technical leader with a proven track record in first-line management, technical sales and support and development roles.

I’m most accustomed to customer-facing assignments providing pre-sales systems architecture guidance, technical education and technical support.

Any pointers are welcome.

My Failed Bid For Pope

I was cleaning up my domain list the other day (aka Why am I still paying for this?) and I found popexriva.com. I had forgotten it was there, actually.

My problem is that I will come up with something that is hysterically funny to me, pay the small fee for a domain, write up the basics, and then forget about it until the rather large renewal fee is extracted from my bank account. So, it’s time to clean house.

When Pope Benedict stepped down, I decided to run for Pope, so I put up a website. I’ve preserved the contents here, since I’m not going to pay the renewal fees. I may put it back if the office opens up again.

Pope Xriva I

REJECTED. White smoke from the Sistine Chapel and no missed calls on my mobile. I’ve been passed over again. However, it’s somewhat political, so my new campaign starts as soon as our new Holy Father appears.

I have tossed my hat in the ring for Pope. I actually don’t have a pointy hat, but I do have a number of baseball caps. I will have better hats once elected.

I have added a personal statement and my qualifications.

I do hope this isn’t breaking any Cardinal rules.

Personal Statement
I realize that there is not really an official application for Pope, since the College of Cardinals is guided by the Holy Spirit to choose the next leader of the Roman Catholic Church.

However, since the only people they see in the locked room while deliberating and voting are the other Cardinals, one of them invariably gets elected. Hopefully, if one of them is idly surfing the web during a particularly boring presentation, he will find this site and think, “Hey! A new guy!”

While I don’t have any real experience leading the one true Church, I have been a team lead for years and have heard the Lord’s name invoked on a fairly regular basis. Hopefully, this will be enough.

I’m in my mid-fifties. I’m not going to retire any time soon. I like most Italian food. My wife wants to visit Rome. (Oops. That may be a deal-breaker. I suppose divorcing her wouldn’t help.)

My fervent hope is to be the first overweight Irish-German-American-Texan Pope.

Qualifications
  • Baptized
  • Confirmed
  • Former Altar Boy
  • Wedding Officiant (Universal Life Church Minister)
  • Only divorced once
  • Team lead of technical team, so used to personnel issues
  • World Traveler
  • Not looking to retire within eight years
  • Hear the Lord’s name invoked on a regular basis at work

Endorsements

  • If I can get some red Prada shoes – New York, New York
  • Anything to get him out of the house – Dallas, Texas
  • Anything to get him out of the office – Coppell, Texas

Smokey and the Bandit IV

Smokey and the Bandit was fun. In Corporate America, not so much.

Every once in a while, you realize how entertainment sometime actually reflects real life. This time last year, I was thinking about Survivor and why I find it difficult to watch. (The same thing happened last night.)

I was thinking about Smokey and the Bandit the other day, a fun movie – not a lot of deep messages, really, but a fun way to kill part of an afternoon. Bandit is challenged to drive to Texarkana and back to Atlanta in 28 hours with some bootleg Coors. (Since some of my fraternity brothers later borrowed my pick-up to drive from San Antonio to Texarkana to get bootleg Busch kegs for a party, I can say the story makes sense. Somewhat.)

Of course, Bandit was not the truck driver, Cledus (the Snowman) was. Bandit was the blocker – a distraction to make sure the truck made it through (and a good excuse to have a Trans Am in a movie).

The corporate world doesn’t really have many blockers, which is unfortunate, since a shield is a good thing every once in a while. Here’s how Cledus would fare in the corporate world today:

Cledus arrived at work one day and was told, “Congratulations! You are our new truck driver!” He was a bit surprised, since he was in charge of the entire factory floor, but management knows best, so he became a truck driver. He anxiously waited for his first assignment. And he waited. Then, he noticed there weren’t any trucks anywhere around the factory. There was just an old beat-up van, parked in the corner. It was either parked almost on top of some tomato crates, or it was up on blocks. It was hard to tell.

One day, about three weeks later, his boss asked why the tomatoes were all rotting in the warehouse. “Why didn’t you drive the tomatoes to Chicago last week? The van is in the back of the warehouse.” Now, that explained the van. It didn’t explain why a van driver was called a truck driver, or how Cledus was supposed to have divined that tomatoes went in the van to Chicago, but at least he had his first assignment.

He apologized profusely, ordered some new tomatoes after going through sixteen levels of management approvals, and drove them to Chicago in the van. He had to do the speed limit, since there were no blockers, and the van couldn’t go that fast, since it was overloaded with tomatoes. Also, one of the tires had a slow leak, so he had to stop and fill it every few hundred miles. Corporate had said they don’t reimburse for tire repairs.

When he got back from Chicago, Cledus went to tell his boss he was back, and the tomatoes had been safely delivered. His boss said, “Where are the sausages?” “What sausages?” “The ones you were supposed to pick up in Milwaukee, on your way back from Chicago.” “Why did nobody mention the sausages to me?” “What do you mean? Joe knew about the sausages. It was discussed in three meetings while you were away. Everyone in marketing knew about the sausages. The web team is waiting to photograph them for the web site. Are you not a team player?”

So, Cledus got ready to go get the sausages. First, he looked around to see if there was any rotting fruit in the warehouse, in case something else he didn’t know about was supposed to go Northbound. Before he left, his boss said, “There are too many sausages for you to carry in the van. You need a truck. You will need at least six people. Take Bob and Phil with you.”

Cledus wasn’t sure how to tell his boss that adding two people to himself was three, not six, and Phil was in a wheelchair, but he set out for Milwaukee. He took the van, since there still wasn’t any truck in sight, and corporate directives specifically forbid renting trucks. He wondered if they would ever get a truck. He wondered when he would have his title changed to “van driver” which would be correct. He knew an actual van driver in another department, but he drove a forklift.

Halfway there, his cell phone rang. “Hey, I need Bob on a different truck in Memphis, tomorrow. You’ve trained him to load potatoes, haven’t you? It came up in our staff meeting this morning.” Now, Cledus wasn’t sure how to answer, since he hadn’t even taught Bob to load sausages yet. Oops.

So, he dropped Bob off at the next town so he could catch a bus to the warehouse where he would load potatoes. First, he stopped by the store so Bob could at least see a sack of potatoes before he left. That way, he could say he trained him. (Cledus asked Bob to call him and tell him if they were loading a van or a truck. Bob called the next day, and said it was a station wagon.) He thought about asking Phil to drive, but the van wasn’t a handicapped-accessible van, and Phil had forgotten his distance glasses, anyway.

After loading sausages for two days, he and Phil headed south. Phil still couldn’t drive the van. It was really smelly in the van.

He got home with the sausages in spite of the challenges, and was pretty happy with the results. He boss said, “There are only twelve dozen sausages here. I called the manufacturer in Phoenix while you were on the way and told them I wanted sixteen dozen. Where are the rest?”

Cledus wasn’t sure where to start. The manufacturer didn’t have any control over the independent warehouse in Milwaukee or his ordering system. Nobody told the warehouse or him. The manufacturer simply was the wrong person to call. Maybe this wasn’t his fault.

No, it was. His boss said so.

So, he was given one last assignment, to prove he was worthy of being a truck driver that didn’t have a truck.

Late that evening, Cledus texted the Bandit, who was working for a different company. The text said “Do you know if there is still a land bridge?” Cledus is a truck driver. He has to deliver a van full of pickles. To London. From Cleveland.

I miss Cledus. You can go really fast in a van, but it’s a long way to jump from the US to the UK. If you don’t make it all the way on the first jump, there’s only so long you can hold your breath, and it’s hard to swim and pull a van at the same time.

Some of his co-workers wanted to name the warehouse in his memory, but he got a really bad final review for drowning a load of pickles and losing a van.

Eastbound and Down has a whole new meaning in the corporate world.

Un Poquito Espanol

I have been dealing with our corporate team in Latin America lately. They are lovely people, very easy to work with, but their customers all speak Spanish. This has been a challenge. I took Spanish in prep school, never did that well, and never practiced after that.

The first internal call with the team, I apologized and explained I knew “Bar Spanish.” It is a very simple dialect:

  • “Una cerveza, poor favor.” (A beer, please.)
  • “Uno mas.” (One more – can be repeated.)
  • “Gracias.” (Thank you – after each delivery.)
  • “Manana.” (See you tomorrow.)

They found this quite funny (whew.) I did not cuss in Spanish, which I learned in college, although not officially. The problem with Bar Spanish is that it only works in Cozumel, and they all speak English there, anyway.

Most of the rest of the basic Spanish I remember is “Una cerveza y dos helados” which is “one beer and two ice creams.”

It was from a story we had to read in sixth grade, a picture book using basic phrases as captions for each picture. I never understood why a Dad would order beer while getting his kids ice cream. Then, I had my child.With grandkids, I would have to learn “one defibrillator and three ice creams.” 

For the record, my former manager (current translator) told the Latin America team about beer and ice cream, and they found it hilarious. At least laughter is the same in English and Spanish. I hope.

Corporate Avenue

Start at the corner of Hope and Innocence,
Follow Hope South until it becomes Despair.
Your career progresses as you go,
Nothing vodka or Prozac won’t repair.

Keeping going down Despair,
You’ll know when you are through.
It dead ends at Retirement.
Alongside Corporate Avenue.

Corporate Avenue is a long, hard road.
There are twists and turns and merges,
You have to find a decent driver,
Then hope he survives the purges.

I’ve been driven off a cliff.
I’ve been driven into walls.

I remember drivers drinking,
While they suffered through the drive.

I remember changing drivers,
While we were doing sixty-five.

The only thing that bothers me,
It often shakes me to my core.
Is how many times along the way,
I know I’ve seen that house before.

Technology

 

I’m getting the feeling that
We have a generation that can’t read.
You have to show them graphics – not text,
And it’s really best to have a movie.

I love technology,
But not for it’s own sake.
Let’s not use it just because
The CEO overpaid for it.

If you have something to say,
Just email or call me.
I’ll respond if required.
Don’t send a link to your blog.

If you have an announcement,
Just make it.
Don’t make me watch a video
A week from Tuesday.

Worst of all now days,
Is the video blog,
Where some minor exec
Reads you his email.

The issue with video blogs,
At least for me,
Is that you see how poorly
Some of these people present.

Please send your foils out first.
(I’m old. They’re not slides. They’re foils.)
I will happily read your foils.
Then, I will think to myself,
“How can this take an hour to present?”

When I read someone’s foils,
My usual thought is,
“Wow. That’s an hour I would have wasted.”
Then, I hang up and go back to work.

Here’s the thing people miss these days.
Work is not an action movie.
There is little action at all sometimes.
So why pretend it’s exciting?

If you’re going to pretend it’s exciting,
Let’s have a video game presentation.
Everyone could watch from home,
And interact with the presenter.

Hit the CEO in the nose,
She has to go on to the next slide.
Blow the CEO up,
That’s lunch, everybody!

That could actually be fun.
She couldn’t just stand and read.
Just send me the foils first,
So I know what was supposed to be said.

Responsorial Psalm

Today’s Psalm is from Meetings, 9am – 10am.

Today’s psalm is from Meetings, 9am – 10am.

Our response is: “Hey! Great idea, boss!”

“I see that our standing committee has not provided any input for efficiencies. I have decided to terminate the committee.”

R: “Hey! Great idea, boss!”

“Since the committee failed, we will split the members into three working groups, who can each meet twice a week.”

R: “Hey! Great idea, boss!”

“With six times as many meetings, we are bound to find ways to be more efficient even more quickly than before.”

R: “Hey! Great idea, boss!”

Let us pray.

Survivor

My wife loves Survivor. She loves it so much she tells people we love Survivor. This particular usage must be the Royal We, because I do not love Survivor. I will watch it with her, but I actually prefer the Amazing Race, where contestants have some control over their own destiny. Survivor actually distresses me, although I couldn’t really articulate why.

Last night was the conclusion of another riveting season. Actually, all the players were returning contestants, so it was better than most seasons. Some guy who had been in the back most of the time managed to build a large enough alliance to get into the final three, pleaded that he was there to win for his family, and won a million dollars. He won one challenge.

I was incensed that he won, as he had minimal accomplishments. I thought the whole “for my family” speech was pandering to the jury. My wife was very pleased he won, since she liked him.

It’s today’s Corporate America in a nutshell, and that’s my problem with Survivor – it’s just too close to my work life to be enjoyable.

I’m hoping the producers originally envisioned a true contest of strength and endurance, where the cream would rise to the top, and the most powerful would be rewarded with riches. Assuming that a TV producer had ever read Darwin (a leap of faith on my part), the strong would survive, by natural selection. This is a good theory.

Here’s what actually happens each season on Survivor:

A bunch of random people are placed in a relatively high-stress situation somewhere in a remote location. They are not truly random, since the producers choose them ahead of time, and there always seem to be patterns. It’s almost like there were quotas to fill. There will be a big tough guy, an pretty boy,  a nerd, a slightly crazy woman, a proud ethnic woman, an overly-sensitive guy, an old guy, a Mother Earth woman, someone with a secret, and a few others. The “random” people are placed on teams.

After a couple of days of assessing each other, some of the rather weak performers start to band together and methodically wipe out the stronger performers, simply because that’s the only way they will remain in the game. They swear loyalty to each other, but will switch allegiances whenever necessary, just to stay alive. If their friends are sacrificed, so be it. There are always one or two incompetents who manage to stick around week after week, just because they are no threat to anyone, even if they are an incredible annoyance to the people who actually know what is going on. Someone thinks he is in charge, but everyone is actually working behind his back to destroy him.

The truly weak are kept around because at the end, in theory, the best player of the few left will be crowned the winner. So, rather than surrounding yourself with strong players, you select weak players, since that makes you look stronger.

Each week, all of the contestants are required to complete a task which has no apparent actual value other than it was the task assigned. One of the teams will get rewarded based on how quickly they can do the task. It doesn’t really matter if you don’t master the task (except for losing the reward), since you will never have to do the task again. If you win, you get a reward and the other team gets told “I got nothin’ for you.”

After that, there is another random task, but this time, if your team loses, your team has to send someone home. There are hidden trinkets that you can find that can prevent you from going home, but only if you display the trinket at the proper time. In the end, some of the last ones who were vanquished are allowed to pick the winner out of the losers that are left.

It’s natural selection on acid.

It is also, my friends, the past thirty or so years of my life, except that on Survivor, nobody has to do annual performance reviews, mainly because they’re not out there that long. I’m constantly amazed I’m still here. I guess I’m just not a threat to anyone.