OMG!

Is that the way Gen Xers or Ys express outrage? Confusion? Fear?

I’ve got those same feelings, but I go back to an earlier time.

I mean, Dad served in the Army during the war. The good, brave, noble war. The last one that we actually won. And he experienced the Depression (last century’s Depression, not this one), so he was able to teach us the value of a dollar and the importance of hard work.

And that’s pretty much what I’ve been up to for the past, um, four decades. Work. Save. Raise a family. Try to have a life. Work and save.

“How’d that work out for you?” I might be asked if I was talking to Dr. Phil.

Actually, I was about to retire, but it turns out I have to get a job.

No point explaining why–about good investments gone bad and retirement planning blowing up like one of those roadside bombs in Iraq. Point is, I can’t rest on my laurels, or my rear end or any other part for that matter. Put away the dreams I nurtured and forget the happy notion of cutting back and enjoying my golden years.

Managed to get through the decades of craziness and turmoil, both on the world stage and even a bit in my own life. I rocked to the Beetles and cried when we lost John, Martin and Bobby. I watched TV and saw them fall: Saigon (that was bad) and the Berlin Wall (good); traded my typewriter in for a computer, then tried to keep up as I discovered networks–digital ones and social ones–and then puzzled over the convergence of networks and media and, I imagine, most everything else.

The bottom line here, the crux of the matter, the sum total of all I’ve done and everything I’ve struggled through and every lesson I’ve learned is: I gotta get a job.

Had I seen this coming–which I did not–I would have been better prepared. Not so surprised. But this bad economy just snuck up on me; me and most everyone else.

And I’m afraid I can’t do anything that’s needed in the current economy. I’m not a cute and clever kid who writes code or creates web sites fully optimized for search engines. I can’t compete for warehouse work with some youngster who’s all muscle and stamina. I don’t even think there’s anything I could do that the country’s biggest employer, duh Wal-Mart, would value. (Actually, I’m glad about that!)

I have to figure out what I can do that might get me hired by someone. Then I’ll create a resume that emphasizes skills and experiences related to that–whatever it is. I’ll use plenty of the key words so the scanners will pass my resume along for further consideration. (What are those words?)

That’s what I have to do. And it may take awhile before I’m successful. So for the time being, I’ll stand next to a freeway entrance with this sign I just made:

“Will complain for an income!”