Est la barre ouverte?

Thoughts on Non-Employment

I have decided to describe my current status as “non-employment” as opposed to unemployment or retirement. “Unemployment” connotes a lack of success in a job search. “Retirement” implies a decision to stop looking for work. Non-employment means that I am not presently looking for a job, but not sure that I am permanently done with work. When asked, I simply say I am “on the bench.”

"On the bench" is standard jargon for consultants and contractors who are "between" assignments. I especially use this terminology around my wife. She is nervous at the thought that I have actually begun an unannounced de facto retirement. Not having "work" to occupy my time, and without her being home to keep an eye on me, she fears that my evening cocktail hour will commence closer to noontime.

I assure her that I have plenty to do, and hardly any of my cohorts are drinking these days (primarily due to the unfortunate fact that alcohol disagrees with their meds.) Besides, I have come to the point in life where two beers is about all I can handle before I start mumbling. How much trouble can you get into after only two beers?

Other than the predictable domestic demands on my free time (mainly meals preparation, shopping, doing laundry and going to the dump), I am enjoying non-employment. The main problem with this status is the steady encroachment of fearful thoughts that tend to dominate the thinking of people who subsist on a (limited) fixed income. We begin to worry about living too long or getting sick and running out of money. At the same time, we dread the thought that we are squandering our healthy years by continuing to work and save, rather than using some of the hard-earned cash to buy some well deserved fun.

A job is an opiate. By accepting the constraints of a job, we allow someone else to make all the big decisions about Time in our lives. Indirectly, the working hours of our job dictate when we go to bed, when we wake-up, how much time we have for breakfast. The job description may even decide where we work how much travel we must do.

Job related deadlines and overtime demands determine whether we are able to squeeze-in some entertainment and/or family time on weekends. The paradox of business life is the devil’s bargain where we trade our personal autonomy for attaining more money and power. The higher we are in the management hierarchy of an organization the less “free time” is available to us. Those days when the execs sneak off early for a round of golf are more than paid for by weekends and nights of overtime. It is commonly known that many of the most successful executives have disastrous personal lives.

Well, the idea is that time is precious. One must spend it like gold – and certainly not give away the control of it to by people who think of us as “resources” not as human beings who need some personal time to think about life’s unanswered questions.


One of the ways we are planning to spend precious time this year is to travel beyond the local boundries of the interstate. We think we will have more fun seeing more of the world. In anticipation of said travel I am brushing up on my language skills. The new MS word2003 has a language translator and I have been spending my precious time learning some handy phrases in different languages.


Hey, it's almost noontime. (Is the bar open?)
É a barra aberta
Ist der geöffnete Stab

State of the Yard

I’m looking out the window into the back yard. Yesterday’s warm rains have wiped out any residue of recent snows. The neighbor’s home-made skating rink looks more like a swimming pool. The thaw has encouraged a distinct greening of the lawn and patches of bright new growth can be seen in the clay pots of chives and parsley.

Spring is in play.

The WSJ reports that there were 193,000 new American jobs in January. Today’s editorial touts the “lowest employment rate” in four years as clear evidence that the 2003 tax cuts are working. I’ll let you know whether I agree or not after I am finished doing my taxes.

I use Turbo-Tax so the hardest part is gathering all the pertinent documents.
I know what you organized people are thinking: Why not just keep all the tax-related papers in one folder so you can find everything you need easily? Yes, that might be an efficient way of doing things, but it is not my way.

My way is to keep every bill, receipt, statement, form, notice, credit card offers, correspondence, acknowledgement, confirmation, insert, fax, note, stub, check and any other document that is not an advertisement – in a big cardboard box.

Traditionally, during the NFL Wildcard weekend, usually in mid-January, while watching the games on TV, I sort through the box and toss the stuff that needs tossing and pile the stuff that needs shredding into a big brown grocery bag for later attention.

Usually this process is lubricated by repetitive ingestion of malt beverages. Now, I don’t know about you, but after a few frosty Sierra Nevada’s, my inclination to sort paper erodes very quickly and without warning. Thus, I typically end-up with a half-sorted box of papers, a bag of shred-able documents - which – like as not, will just get chucked into the trash along with the wet garbage (Go ahead, identity thieves, burrow through the rotten cantaloupe, eggshells, coffee grinds and banana skins. Bring it on !)

But it is good to know that the economy remains strong, with all that job growth. I was comforted the other night by Pres. Bush’s rosy picture of things, weren’t you?
He needs a new speech writer. He reminded me of a CEO at the annual Kickoff meeting. Rah-Rah, we are the greatest! We need to foster more Teamwork and we need to work harder to out-compete the competition! Empty feel good phrases.

Funny how companies give all the perks and rewards to the greedy egomaniacs who create dissention and distrust among the workforce instead of trying to get the people to work as teams.

Not that it matters to me anymore. I am officially back among the ranks of unemployed and NOT looking. At least not for the moment.

I do not have time for a regular job.

Stop sending me leads.