Rant #3,166: Pipe Dream

Another sleepness night …

Too much on my mind right now to sleep, although I did sleep for about five-and-a-half hours before I got up like this, so it isn’t like I didn’t get to sleep at all, no, no, no.

But I am up now at 3:30 a.m., so I figured that I might as well write the first Rant of the week, and it goes back to something that I did late last week on Friday afternoon.

What I did was what I wanted to for a long time, but hesitated doing because I knew that it would lead nowhere. (Spoiler Alert.)

I actually went to the headquarters of Newsday, our local newspaper here on Long Island, and with my resume in hand, sought to go directly to the headquarters of the place that I could fill one of the numerous jobs that they have been advertising as “open” for the past several months.

On almost a daily basis, they have run this large ad inside their newspaper, with about a dozen jobs at a time that they claim are unfilled.

You can send them a resume directly, or go through a site that they use to apply for these jobs, and I have sent them my resume numerous times over the past number of months, and also applied on the site that they direct applicants to.

I haven’t heard anything … and I have applied for both editorial jobs—they have many open—and non-editorial jobs—like a courier--but the only time I have heard from them is when I send a follow-up email to whatever job that I have applied for, and then they send me a form letter telling me that they have passed on me, and “good luck in your job search.”

Now, I darn well know why they are passing on me; it is quite obvious that my age gets in the way, and they refuse to hire anyone who is my age for these jobs, even though the editorial ones I fit like a glove with my experience.

But go prove it.

So, since my son works right around the corner from where Newsday is based, in Melville, New York, I figured that it might be interesting to actually visit Newsday on my way to pick my son up fron work, and see what happens.

So that is what I did … and now I really know, even though I cannot prove it without a shadow of a doubt, that they are not hiring me for any open posting, even the courier position, and the reason is quite obvious.

I got there with resume in hand, walked in, and a guard at the desk stopped me, and I told him why I was there.

He called into Human Resources, and told me to wait in the seating area for someone to come down to meet me.

He then came from behind his desk and spoke with me, first about the weather, but then we got down to the gist of my visit.

“What job are you looking for?” he asked me.

“Well, I have applied for every editorial job that has been offered, and I have not gotten a response, so maybe it is time to move on from that type of job … I already have a freelance job, where I write and edit, so all I am looking for is a part-time job … maybe the courier job would be right for me.”

“Listen, I see how old your are, You are in your 60s, I would say. I see your resume, your background is in editorial. Don’t ever give up on that … don’t go for other things if this is what your background is in.

“Sir, I applied for all of their editorial openings … they do not want me. I already do editorial with my freelance job, so I thought maybe it is time to try something different.”

“How old do you think I am? I am 71, worked for the police department my whole life, retired, went into this because I need something to do … I don’t need their benefits, but I stayed with what I know best. You should too.”

As the conversation ended, this big, burly guy, probably in his 40s, came down to meet me, and I knew that he was not from Human Resources.

“I am from security, What are you here for?” he asked me, and I told him exactly what I told the guard.

“What experience do you have as a courier?” he asked me.

“I don’t have any, but I have over 50 years experience as a driver … I can even drive my own car if necessary.”

“No good … you need experience as a courier.”

I didn’t know that a courier had any job attributes other than being able to take parcels from point A to point B, but I guess in Newsday’s mind, having never done that, I don’t qualify for that position.

As I saw that that direction was going down the tubes, I pivoted, and did exactly what the guard told me to do.

“Look at my resume … I could fill any one of the open editorial positions … the editorial assistant would be perfect for me … .”

As the security person moved away from me, I said to him:

“I was even covered by Newsday in a story a year and a half ago or so … look my name up … I was interviewed by—“

I told the guy the reporter who interviewed me, and this employee of Newsday had no idea who I was referring to.

“Don’t know the name,” he said to me.

“He is the business editor,” I said. “You must know who he is—“

“Look, I will take your resume,” he said to me as he was now fully engaged to get back to his duties, “but never come back here again unless you are called for an interview.”

So it was quite clear why this security person was sent down to meet with me, rather then a Human Resources employee—they thought they had a security problem in me, and they sent this big, burly guy down to meet with me to make sure there wasn’t a problem.

I got up to leave, and the guard said to me, ”Good luck in your job search,” which I guess is the standard line at Newsday when they don’t want anything to do with you.

Later that day, I received an email telling me the usual nonsense, “good luck in your job search,” related to the courier job, so you can bet that my resume never got to Human Resources or to their editorial department.

So I took one step forward but was pushed two steps back, and I still am sitting here with just my freelance job, which I guess is better than nothing but much less than someone like myself deserves.

However, the guard was right … stay with my background, because in theory, I have a better chance getting a job in that area than another area, even if that thinking is probably a pipe dream at this point in time.

Nearly four years since my last and probably final full-time job, I have had it up to here with news reports about how the job market is so much better now than it ever was.

What about me?

I was put out to pasture at age 62 and a half, and now at age 66, I am done like an overcooked minute steak.

And I know why, which makes the whole situation even more difficult to bear.