One Thursday after work, I was hanging out at the west side of St. Louis with a then-fellow, aspiring entrepreneur, Randy. We were hanging out in his car in a school parking lot watching a massive, traffic jam from Hell on the highway and eating some dinner from Arby’s. Cars were barely moving an inch a minute and we decided to tune in on an old school R&B radio station playing Roy Ayers’s song, Running Away.
“Scottie, look at this craziness. People are working just for peanuts to sit in traffic,” he said.
He continues, “We get up at oh-dark-thirty to deal with the crazies in traffic and in management at the job. If it were 1989 again, I’d say sign me up. These days, it’s just, whiskey-tango-foxtrot, man. There are mornings I want to tell the brass to kiss me where the sun doesn’t shine and head back to California and deal with my crazy ex-wife.”
Randy, a retired, middle-aged, Navy veteran who left San Diego, California to find a new life here in the Midwest. He realized he had it good there despite the ex-wife. I understood his frustration. Back before the economy tanked, I learned about personal finances from sitting in seminars and meeting and greeting actual millionaires. Some even told me that I was groomed to be an entrepreneur due to the work ethic and disciplined instilled in me from my time in the Air Force. They were right about that. I was fortunate enough not to be on the front line during my time in the military, but I developed a “never say die” attitude.
It came in handy for me while I was in between gigs. My days consisted of getting up at around two in the afternoon to apply for jobs, both government and private, while watching cartoons. I didn’t rule out temp jobs as long as they add more meat to my resume. It explains why I am hellbent on fighting against reality at times. I had to learn to live below my means and figuratively tossing my resumes against companies’ wall to see what would stick. I never kept count of how many resumes I sent, digital and physical, to prevent myself from feeling discouraged. I received phone calls for a copious amount of interviews. And I even turned down a job due to an unprofessional interviewer who has grossly insulted my intelligence.
Fortunately, by the end of that summer, I had two job offers on the table. It was an awe-inspiring feat in the face of a bad economy. Notwithstanding that I was employed again, I needed to get back into the world of entrepreneurs, but as an entrepreneur. It didn’t sit well with me having them in my virtual Rolodex and I’m working for the Man instead of for self. Especially, since I had to endure a government shutdown.
About a little over a couple of years of being back in the working world, there was news talking about an impending government shutdown. I didn’t put much stock into it considering it was all talk. However, the talk became a reality when I came into work one Monday. People were elated about the shutdown and saw it as a vacation except for me. From what I endured while I was unemployed, I wasn’t pissed. I was livid! I wanted to flip desks, scream, and cuss!
From that point forward, I made it a point not to listen to people who cling to superannuated principles that depreciate quicker than the typical person can even fathom.
A month after observing the traffic jam from Hell, Randy decided to head back to California. He sucked at saying goodbyes and had his landlord tell me when I was about to knock on his apartment door one day. Just like Randy, I have to run away. I have to run away from the insanity. Once I achieve my goal, I’m partying in Las Vegas! Until the next time, devoted readers, live long and prosper!
For the song of the entry, here is Roy Ayers with Running Away!