Rant #2,341: Oh Happy Day

Today is a very happy day, because the 2019 Major League Baseball season begins today.

It actually started last week when two games were played in Japan between the Oakland A's and the Seattle Mariners, but for all intents and purposes, the 2019 season begins today.

And something else I guess I have to celebrate doesn't begin today, but continues today--to the surprise of just about everyone, including myself.

Today, way back in 1996, when I was 39 years old and just a month shy of turning 40, I began working at my current place of business.

The story is that I had lost my previous job a few weeks after my son was born--I was literally a political football and was kicked out by a 400-lbs. someone who wanted to show others he was dealing with how strong and powerful he was--and I was out until I begrudgingly took a job that paid me the grand total of $7 an hour--yup, $7 an hour.

I was also delivering newspapers, making the grand total of $150 a week, so I was really in the money back then, wasn't I?

Anyway, I took that job basically because I had to, and then this job came up. They called me, hired me, and let me tell you, I wasn't making that much more than $7 an hour at this company, either ... but at least I was making enough so I was able to quit my newspaper delivering job on my birthday.

So here we are, 23 years later, and I am one of the last people standing at this job. Due to changes in the work and political climate, cutbacks, some deaths, and some other shenanigans, I have managed to stick around for 23 years.

I more than doubled my salary during my time here, but the problem is that I could say that 12 or 13 years ago, as I have not had a salary increase since I was in my late 40s or early 50s.

There have been lots of changes here, but I am one of the constants. And the amazing thing is that there are at least two employees--we only have six full-timers now--who have been here for longer than I have. One has been here a year longer than me, the other, well, she has been here for 30 some-odd years.

Yes, we have a skilled, but dwindling and aging staff. During the downturn in the company's fortunes, those who could get out did, and the others, like me, have tried, but to no avail.

And you can say what you want, but after looking seriously for the past few years, and going through several hundred jobs that I applied for, I haven't had a single, solitary interview in many months. I still look, but I am convinced that this will be my final full-time position before I am forced to retire, well short of the at least 70 years of age that I would like to retire.

The sword of Damocles is constantly over our heads here, and we have gotten several reprieves from certain death several times.

Do we have nine lives like a cat? I have no idea, but I don't know where this is heading, and it scares me--but at least I can head toward retirement if I need to.

What about my co-workers who are several years younger than me, which means several years away from even thinking about Social Security and retirement? Some have young children. What do they do?

Look, I have to worry about myself. Nobody was worrying about me when, fresh out of college, I was looking for a job, and told on several occasions that I was the wrong ethnicity and the wrong gender for particular positions. Nobody was worrying about me when I was out of work for 18 months back in the 1990s, and nobody was worried about me when I was out of work right after my son was born, so I come first.

That being said, I reach another milestone today, and I look back at the past 23 years as a very interesting period in my life.

I have grown with this job, it has been a lot of fun, it hasn't been brain surgery but it has had its challenges.

And it pays the bills.

I certainly have become a better writer, editor and journalist during the past 23 years, but those skills are not as needed today as they were way back when.

I have tried to branch out in my job searches, but to no avail. My resume reads as it does for a reason, and let's face it, I have been a professional writer for more than 30 years. You cannot fake that on a resume.

With that being said, I have just decided, over the past few months, to go with the flow here.

I have been in a similar situation before during my career, and I know one day, maybe soon, there is going to be no job to go to.

But until that time comes, I am going to still see what is out there.

And I have a new preoccupation, which really goes above and beyond my own personal career ups and downs, and that is to help my son find a job.

It wasn't easy a few years ago, and it is not easy now.

My son's last job lasted three and a half years, and when he was let go at the end of 2018, it was a big blow to him and to my wife and I. Things have not gone very smoothly since then, and it has really been a struggle, one that we are near to winning but still so far away.

The main component of this is to find my son a job, but go invent one for him.

As a 23-year-old developmentally disabled adult, he has a wonderful resume--having worked off and on since he was 15 years old--but people talk a good game. Yes, they are all for integrating all types of people into the workforce, but when push comes to shove, my son and those like him are often left in the fog.

But I will push on with that, too, and at this point, I far more want my son to get a job than I want myself to get a new job; after all, at least, right at this moment, I am working.

For how long, who knows?

If you are reading this, are on Long Island and can help my son, please let me know.

It is often who you know, and we don't know anyone. We have applied to numerous organizations and agencies, but there aren't too many jobs for the developmentally disabled, and we are running into brick walls right now.

We will be going to a job fair for the handicapped in late April, but I have found out that there is a definite difference between those who are "handicapped" and those who are "disabled," and oftentimes the disabled are, once again, left in the fog when trying to find work through this method.

We have been there, done that, but we will do it again.

So, happy 23rd work anniversary to me, and I will continue to push on for both myself and my son.

What is the alternative?

Play ball!