Name That Career

If I told you a person had these three skills:

- A dynamic presenter / trainer who is able to simplify complex concepts in a way that makes them accessible, interesting and applicable
- An engaged listener / counselor who helps bring actionable clarity to people who are anxious and confused
- A resourceful independent student with a thirst for new knowledge

And These three basis of knowledge:

 - Inspirational Public Speaking
 - Teaching
 - Spiritual Counseling and training

What three careers first come to mind?

(I'm asking for a "friend")

Life: Act 2 (Audience Participation Encouraged)

The challenge to picking a career when you are in high school / college is that you largely do so blind. Over time as you gain experience you learn that there is a difference in "work" and the "work environment". You may enjoy the work but cannot abide the environment. You also learn that just because you are good at something does not mean you actually enjoy doing it; it may just be a talent as opposed to a gift. Many people by their mid-thirties are not working at a job that matches their college degree. And that's when the chase begins.

Before you know it, you are chasing a paycheck from one career to the next. Instead of asking "what fulfills me" we start asking, "How can I get the most money for the things I can do?". Or to put another way, "How can I sell myself to the highest bidder?"

I am trying to take advantage of this economic downturn and period of unemployment to STOP. LOOK. And LISTEN. To really ask myself how I want to spend the second half of my career-life. And I may have had an epiphany this morning . . . . I listed every job I have ever had and wrote down what I liked and disliked about them. Every. Single. Job. Some of the likes and dislikes are obvious and others are more subtle.

This is where you come in. If you wouldn't mind taking a look and chiming in if you know of a career that might be a match I would be greatly appreciative (I figure there is some odd career out there that I have never considered).

So without further ado:

LIKES:

Variation in work
Caring for people in need
Learning new things
Responsibility
Not confined to one office all week
Challenging
Public speaking
Teaching / training others
Opportunity to intellectually grow
Study and research
Writing
Inspiring others
Helping people
Emotionally caring for others
Business casual
Salaried (additional small commission is okay)
Moderately Independent
Regular work hours (a little on call time is okay)

DISLIKES:


Mindlessly shuffling paper
Not stimulating
No Respect
No privacy in work space
Irregular hours
Regular long distance travel
Sales
Paying my own taxes
Work weeks consistently over 50 hours
Being on call 24/7
Servicing Salesmen
Corruption / Dishonesty / Cronyism

Thanks!

Mr. Schmantzy Pants

Yep. That's my shiny new ball and chain.

Why would someone who despises all things phone (cellular especially) upgrade to a 3G whiz-bang where I can not only be pestered by phone calls but text messages, e-mails and the like ALL HOURS OF THE DAY AND NIGHT? Because I gotz a new job. That's why. I start this coming Monday.

After 12+ years in real estate, it is time to move on (oooooh if only I had done this 3 years ago!!!). Hopefully the move will be permanant.

What will I miss about the old job? All the good times. What won't I miss? All the bad times. I will leave it to you to figure the percentages.

A taste of the bad times:

glumbert - Bad Day at the Office

New job?

Impressive Chest-puffing Title: International Sales Manager

Reality: I am going to be selling chairs: West of the Mississippi and in Canada (is it just me, or does Mississippi have too many letters?).

NOT JUST ANY CHAIRS, MIND YOU! The kind that go in Movie theatres, Opera houses, School auditoriums, places of Worship and what-not. So the next time you go to a performance and sit in an uncomfortable chair, exclaim to your significant other: "I know this isn't a Matt Linden chair!"

The job is full of promise (and a raise) so we are hopeful. Because what else is there to be in 2010, but HOPEFUL!?

So that's the news. I will be on the road at least 10 days a month so I think that qualifies me for the "Road Warrior" moniker.

Updates to follow - right now I am trying to figure out how to turn off this new-fangled phone . . .

Oh, BTW . . . I have been boning up on sales techniques (language warning) . . . . .

UPDATE:

When a friend heard of the new job, he sent me this photo:


I'm not sure if my new company carries this design. If not, I will be sure to suggest it at my very first staff meeting . . . .

The Meaning of Success

I thought this post was very thought-provoking. As someone who has seen his income slashed by 75% at the same time my wife was giving birth to a special-needs daughter, it struck a nerve . . .

A New Job

So I started my new job yesterday!

Thank you to all those who have been praying and offering to shop my resume around!

I had three interviews last week followed by three offers (all Title and/or Escrow companies). Yesterday (while setting up my new office) I received a request for an interview from a fourth escrow company but had to decline as I had already sent out the mass e-mail to all my clients.

As I mentioned before, Escrow is something I seem to be wired for and good at - but it is not something I would consider a "gift".

So since this big old job-hunt ball is rolling I think I am going to continue to chase down every possible lead outside the title and escrow industry and see what comes of it. Maybe nothing. But you never know.

Aside from my dream job of being a stay-at-home dad, caring for the house and writing blockbuster best sellers (heh), I think the new gig is a good one.

It is a newer company filled with some of the most experienced people in the industry. It feels good to be surrounded on all sides by strong, competent people who are fired up to build a new business.

With the changes in the market being what they are, my base salary was cut in half but the commission structure is better. Providing I continue to bring in the amount of business I have been doing, I should actually come out ahead - so that is good.

And insurance benefits kicked in yesterday so we are covered! I haven't had the opportunity to comb through the nitty gritty of the coverage yet - if my old insurance has better coverage, we may just bite the bullet and pay to continue it for the time being.

So that's that (I reckon) - a new job with a new company full of great people - the opportunity to possibly make a couple extra bucks - and insurance coverage to boot.

Thanks again to all those who so fervently prayed for me during this time - it matters. I am so glad I don't have to introduce myself to Annabelle as her unemployed dad. ;-)

And by the way - if you hear of anyone that wants to pay me to stay home, raise the kid and write - let me know!

Matt's Resume

I am posting my resume here on the off-chance that it might lead to something.

I can be reached at MattLinden@msn.com if you would like a copy sent directly to you.

Thank you for your continued prayers and support!

You're Kidding, Right? Is Someone Filming Me?

So, I got RIFFed yesterday.

Reduction
In
Force

In other words, I lost my job.

Seriously, at this point, I expect to hear from the people over at Snopes any day now - calling to verify that our story is true . . .

Judging from our daily reports, my production numbers put me squarely in the middle of the pack in relation to the other folks who share my position. So why was I the lucky one? No telling.

As I mentioned before, our company is merging it's three San Diego brands into one and our entire management team was replaced by folks from one of the other brands. All I can say is they must have felt that letting me go was in the best interests of profitability.

Really no point in arguing or making it personal by holding a grudge. Chances are, if I remain in the industry, we will all be back working together at some other company 5-10 years down the road and as a wise person once said, "Don't step on the foot today that may be attached to the kiester you will need to kiss tomorrow."

So, I am on the hunt for a J-O-B. I have a smattering of ideas and I intend to make a valiant effort today. The wife and I have a theory - hunting for a job is twice as hard as having one. So when you are hunting for a job - you need to put in a solid four hours a day and then take the rest of the day for yourself or else your head will spin 360 and pop off.

I was talking with a doctor friend of mine a couple of weeks back and he asked me to do him a favor; "You always ask for prayer for Holly and Annabelle and everyone else but you never ask for prayer for yourself."

I hadn't really thought about it. I figured that I was so intrinsically tied up with all the prayer requests that I was in the prayer "splash zone" - close enough to get some on me.

"You need to ask for prayer for you specifically", my friend went on. "Tell them it's doctor's orders."

I said I would and of course never got around to it.

Well today I am asking.

Pray for me.

This all ain't as easy as it looks folks . . . .

Nobody Knows You When You're Down and Out

By Jimmy Cox

Once I lived the life of a millionaire
Spending my money, with never a care
Takin' all my friends out for a good time
Drinkin' high-priced liquor, champagne and wine;
Then I began to fall so low;
Didn't have a friend, and noplace to go
If I ever get my hands on a dollar again
I'm gonna squeeze it, until the eagle grins, cause

Nobody knows you when you're down and out.
In your pocket, not one penny
And your friends -- you find you haven't any.
But as soon as you get back on your feet again
Everybody wants to be your long-lost friend
It's might strange, without a doubt
Nobody knows you when you're down and out.

Good Night - or is it Good Morning?

Ugh. I have been fighting it for about an hour and a half now. Can't sleep.

No reason I should lie in bed awake when I can get a few things done out here. Awake.

With any luck, I will be able to catch a few Z's in an hour or so.

Insomnia. It's a terrible thing to waste . . .

Soul Food - 1/11/8

"Have I not wept for those in
trouble?
Has not my soul grieved for the
poor?
Yet when I hoped for good, evil came;
when I looked for light, then came
darkness. The churning inside me never stops;
days of suffering confront me."

- Job 30:25-26

"My harp is tuned to mourning,
and my flute to the sound of
wailing."

- Job 30:31

= A word of encouragement =

This book is a tough one to get through sometimes because Job is just so depressed. When I read the Bible or a spritually-themed book, I want to be uplifted - spurred on to new heights - emboldened to make something of my self.

But that's not the way real life is day in and day out.

Sometimes you do everything right and it still falls apart. Sometimes it keeps falling apart and falling apart and you wonder if the free-fall of destruction will ever end.

And at that point, the last thing you need are friends like Job's who say your hardships must be all your fault. You must have done something wrong. If you were just smart and righteous like them, you wouldn't be in such a mess.

This is one of the things that makes the Bible the most influential book in history. It gives full vent to the entire human experience.

So to those of you who are reading along - hang in there! We are 2/3 of the way through Job!

Do We Have a Steady Beat?

I feel like a patient in one of those medical dramas. My heart went all erratic about 10 weeks ago and they have been working on me ever since.

"Paddles! Charging! Clear!"

=sqeeeeeeeeeeeek, BLAM!=

"Push 10 cc's of Eppy! Where's that Psyc consult?!"

I gazed upon my domain at work yesterday afternoon and decided - "I don't have to come in early tomorrow"

Thump . . .

Thump . . . .

Thump . . . .

Still too early to tell if we are out of flat-line country but things look promising.

The lights are on the tree! More importantly, the lights on the tree are ON!

The wife e-mailed me at work yesterday to inform me that as she was plugging in the last of the lights into our super-duper Christmas tree extension cord, they all burnt out. Turns out, our super-duper Christmas tree extension cord has a fuse in it that blows if you try to pull too much power through the line - thereby reducing the chance that your house is reduced to charcoal brickets on Christmas Eve.

Solution? Chuck it and get an extension cord without a fuse! I know it's not as safe - but this is Xmes! And we must have 1000 lights on the tree! Good thing I put up that smoke detector . . .

Taking Stock

I received a call this past Wednesday while the dawg and I were terrorizing B. Hills. It seemed my assistant and my stand-in were drowning in work. The demands of the desk were overwhelming them. I encouraged them to go to the higher-ups for assistance and gave them some info on a couple of files.

After I hung up, I dialed the higher-ups directly to call in the reinforcements. I hung up after the first ring. The assistant and stand-in are adults. If they truly need help, they will ask for it. I am not going to micro-manage them while on my vacation in B. Hills.

Understandably, I approach my return to the House of Pain today with a certain amount of trepidation.

During the Thanksgiving festivities, a family friend asked how the "Credit Crunch" had effected my industry. I gave him the holiday-cliff-notes version of The Great Upheaval and his response was, "Whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger".

I totally understand what he was saying - "Hang in there - you will be the better for it" etc etc. I remember learning that phrase when I was in High School and I will admit that I gained a certain amount of "backbone" from it. But now I am old(er) and tired(er).

I know this all won't kill me - but I am not much interested in being any stronger. Let's pass on the "I feel like I'm going to die part" and you can keep your "stronger".

It's like the other saying - "Pain is just weakness leaving your body". Well, okay. But it's the PAIN part that I have a problem with. I don't mind being weak(er). I will keep the "weakness" and you hang onto the pain part.

"Keep your 'Ho there'. I will no be moved!." (princess bride reference)

Hey - It's the Monday after my vacation - what did you expect?

Just for fun - here's 10 minutes of Princess Bride Goodness . . .

Running Joke, Part 7

The last time I went running was September 19th. Since then, I have been working 13 hour days 6 days a week. Things have started to regain equilibrium at work and I found myself going in at 6am instead of 4am yesterday. Dreams of getting back out and doing some running are starting to fill my head.

Except that I rolled my right ankle on Halloween.

That's right, stepping from the kitchen to the family room, my foot buckled under and all 200 pounds of lovable me came crashing down on my right ankle. It is still swollen. Yesterday at work it hurt so bad I had to re-wrap it and pop some pain killers.

So, it's been over 8 weeks since I have run and even if I had the time now, I couldn't.

All this as a ignominious day approaches. Once we hit December, it will be TWO YEARS that I have been "training" for a marathon. TWO YEARS to do what takes the average person 6-12 months to do. I will not bore you with the details - you can click on the "Running" category to the right for that.

Suffice it to say, it's a bummer. So what should I do? Quit? After I have COME ALL THIS WAY? No siree. In the words of Van Morrision I am going to "carry on regardless".

But I must say, articles like these don't really help.

Hopefully, the Dawg and I will be back out there in a week or two . . .

Bring it.

Hello? . . . .

What a wonderful week of blogging it has been. If I may be so bold, this past week was some of my best work. What's that you say? I haven't posted anything since 10/25? Okay technically, you are correct. But, oh the things I have posted in my mind!

I assure you, I have not given up on blogging. Many of the posts that would have gone up this past week or so have been tossed in a barrel to be used (hopefully) in the not-too-distant future.

Its just that 80-90-hour work weeks have a way of intruding on my personal time. I worked a full day yesterday (Saturday) and - after pumpkin pancakes at IHop with the wife this morning - I will be heading into the office for what I hope will be a 1/2 day. Then it's a 4-hour weekend and back to it in the morning.

And my assistant has the day off tomorrow.

Before I forget, Sean @ The Most Significant Thing has a great post that illustrates what his close friends know to be his true inner madness.

Back to those 80-90-hour work weeks. . . .

I am a salaried / commissioned employee. But in the strange nether-reaches of corporate logic the corporate bots have to cough-up time-and-a-half if I work overtime. At this point I am sitting on a king's ransom of neglect-your-family.

Not because I want to, mind you - but because our industry is cut-throat like never before. Whole companies are closing their doors - not to mention individuals going out of business - and it is a mad scramble to stay alive.

It is as if you are hemorrhaging business from one part of your body while injecting business at another point. "Never mind the IV drip! Squeeze the bag, man!"

So what does my completely pointless time card look like?

8-noon, 1-5
8-noon, 1-5

and so on . . .

My supervisor came to me the other day with my totally bogus time card in her hands. "We all know you have been working overtime and you need to put it on your time card."

"No", I replied. "I don't want to be paid overtime because you and I both know that the first paycheck I get that includes overtime will be my last."

She had no reply, nodded her head in agreement and left. . .

Overtime is the law at my company in the way that the speed limit is the law in Southern Cal. The surest way to get creamed on the highway is to drive the speed limit. Claim overtime and it's "It has been a pleasure working with you".

No sir, you hit that on-ramp and you give her the gas . . . After all, you need to get back to the office . . .

I guess . . . .

A Stab in the Dark

Here is what the sunset looked like from my back deck yesterday:

Here is what the moon looked like at 3:45 this morning:

Too early to tell I suppose, but it seems like an improvement.

What with the Great Upheaval at work and all (click topic to the right for past posts), this is the time of morning where I would be heading out the door to work. I think I will stick around this morning. Throw back a pot of coffee with the wife before seeing each other off to work around 7:30 or so - assuming we both end up going to work today.

I also felt like I really ought to do some posting this morning which brings me to our cultural observations of the day.

I phoned a friend yesterday to check in and he assured me that all was fine with him and his. I remarked that my wife had talked to his wife and that my wife had told me that they had an eventful morning. "Well, I'm going to blog about it" was his reply.

I knew what he meant. What he meant was, "Nothing of any real importance happened and I want to tell you the story via the blog so that I can get my thoughts together and add the photos etc." Which is perfectly fine and no big deal. But I couldn't help dishing him some good-natured righteous indignation, "LOOK PAL. When I call and ask you if you are all right I don't want to hear, 'Well, I'm going to blog about it'. I want to hear what the H.E. double hockey-sticks is going on!"

We both had a good laugh.

Which brings me to the other side of that cultural coin - a number of friends have e-mailed me expressing concern because I have not been blogging the fire very much and they want to make sure we are okay. Which I find interesting.

The only thing keeping me from blogging is THE MAN. And the 70-hour work weeks I have been putting in the last 3 weeks. The wife asked me if I ever have trouble coming up with something to blog about. Sadly, no. Rest assured that I always have something to say and the only thing keeping me from blogging about it is my present work situation. (note: I did not say "something interesting" or "something important". I just said I always have "something" to say)

Well back to the topic at hand.

The best sources for information on the fires that I have found are these:

http://www.10news.com/ - They have a live video feed that I have been running in a corner of my desktop at work. It is exactly what the folks watching TV are seeing.

www.sdcountyemergency.com/ - This is the San Diego County Government emergency website. They have a pdf map of the fires as well as evacuation areas and possible future evacuation areas. They also have a ticker-tape of sorts with very relevant and up-to-date information

Google Maps - This is a map of the fires, evacuation areas and aid centers of all stripes

So how close did we come to never having to finish the family room re-model? Judging by all the sources I have seen on TV, the web and in person yesterday morning - we were 4 miles from the flames and 2 1/2 miles from being evacuated. That may seem uncomfortably close to some but I am learning that 4 miles is not necessarily 4 miles when it comes to fire.

Our home is not in the woods. We do not live on the edge of a tinder-box prairie. We are surrounded by city blocks of residential homes. Between us and the flames sits four miles of densely populated neighborhoods and an 8-lane freeway. It would have to be some fire to ravage four miles of city blocks and jump a freeway without being beaten back by the fire-fighting powers that be. Add to the mix that the Harris fire is butted up against the Sweetwater reservoir. The aircraft have been filling their tanks in the reservoir and not so much having to travel to the fire to drop so much as just having to gain enough altitude to make their drops.

The real concern for us is not that the fire might travel house-to-house. The issue at hand for us is that air-borne embers could rain down upon us and cause damage.

That seems a lot less likely this morning than it did yesterday morning.

But like I said, it's still early and I am just taking a "stab in the dark".

More to come, I am sure . . .

The Great Upheaval - Part 10!

Sick of hearing about it? Whhhhheeeelllll, I sure am sick of living it. But I have to get it off my chest . . .

Work-week in review:

Monday: 4:30am-6pm
Tuesday: 4:30am-6pm
Wednesday: 4:30am-5pm

At this point, it should be noted that I finally had the tiger by the tail. As I was packing up Wednesday evening, I carefully reviewed the situation at the office. "Yes, I think I can sleep in a little tomorrow . . ."

I got up Thursday morning, did a little blogging and got to work a little late.

Thursday: 8:30am-7:30pm

Why 7:30pm? Because all hades broke loose once again. The co-worker in the office next to mine was laid-off and I inherited all her files and clients who were angry about her being laid off.

Friday: 4:00am-5:00pm
Saturday: 8:00am-5:30pm
Sunday: TBA

Yes, I was in the office on Saturday and I will be going into the office today - which means 12 straight days of work by the end of this upcoming week. And spare me the "you're a work-a-holic who needs to enjoy life more" tirades.

=Begin Screed=
Work-a-holics want to be at work. I want to be at home - with the wife, the dawg, the cat and the beer. There is nothing more irritating to someone who isn't enamoured with their job that is requiring unpaid overtime than to be told that they love their job too much and should lighten up.
=End Screed=

Oh, and everyone received a 25-36% pay-cut this week.

The good news is, I no longer feel like I am on the chopping block. It is a bittersweet victory though. I feel like a prisoner in shackles and chains rejoicing because the guillotine has been temporarily shut down for routine maintenance.

In talking with a co-worker who has been in the business for going on 4 decades, she said she had weathered three of these down turns - one in the late 80's - one in the late 90's and this one, which she said is the worst she has ever seen.

So once every decade.

If we make it through this one, best to spend the next ten years saving $$ to get through the next one, I suppose. . . .

Signs of Life

So.

I have been getting up at 3am and heading to the office as early as possible.

Some (most) people can work late, others (me) prefer to work early. If I get to the office at 4:30am, I know that I can't leave until 5pm so I might as well get down to business and keep plugging away. I don't have the option to leave.

But come 5pm, the doors of the cell swing wide and I can leave any time I want. I am sorry, but give me the chance to bolt from the house of pain and I am taking it. I don't understand these people who stay at their desks into the evening knowing that home and hearth await them and the only thing standing between them and family is a desire to work late. No thanks.

I have been putting in the long hours for a number of reasons.

1) I no longer have an assistant and I am trying to provide flawless service to my clients as we are in an extraordinarily competitive market.

B) I need extra time during the day to pow-wow with sales reps, target potential clients and coordinate marketing strategies.

3) It doesn't hurt to get to the office before your boss and leave after him.

What a job. What a world. What a!

I don't want my job to be my life. I don't need to be wealthy (by my standards). I just want to make $X. Make the car payments, pay the mortgage, spruce up the homestead every few months or so and maybe take a vacation once every couple of years.

The trouble is, with the Real Estate market as it is, I am making $H and there is half an alphabet between $H and $X.

Money isn't health, money isn't happiness, money isn't life. But as the wealthy father of one of my high-school sweethearts said (as were were driving the convertible Mercedes to the lake-side cabin in Big Bear):

"People who say money can't buy happiness are shopping in the wrong place. I have been poor and I have been rich - I prefer to be rich."

Of course, he was working 15-hour days and sleeping with his secretary . . . .

Yeah, just enough to pay the bills and take a cheap vacation every couple of years - see the future birthplace of James T. Kirk, the ball of string, Mt. Rushmore. . . . The American dream, I suppose.

I really should get dressed and go to work . . . .

Back in the Saddle Again

I put in 14 hour days last week and felt pretty good about the way I left things at the office on Friday.

I spent a little extra time at home this morning blogging about this and that only to get smashed at work once again.

It is 6pm - I am still at the office – I have been here since 6:30am.

Sooooo – blogging, running and surfing are back on the shelf for the time being.

Oh, and the wife reports that the dawg ate another hose today.

We only have one left . . . .

Weekend Adventures, 10/06/07 - Part 1

What a week. I have been getting up at 3am, starting work at the office at 4:30am and calling it quits around 6pm.

Needless to say, I was not entirely enthusiastic when the wife reminded me of the dinner party we were going to Friday night with some clients of hers. The affair was to involve some sort of official wine tasting at a shwanky house in Hillcrest.

"That's what I need", I thought to myself, "to round out the end of a 70-hour work week surrounded by strangers, pretending to taste the subtle nuances and/or hints or raspberries and truffles in a glass of wine when all I want is a beer and/or bourbon". Especially as we have already established the fact that I am a total Philistine.

Well, there was no begging off.

I knocked off work at 4:45, reminding my supervisor that I had been in the office since 4:30am. I took her silence to mean that it was okay for me to leave early. I jetted home, picked up the dawg and bee-lined to the Balboa Dawg Park. The dawg park was only 5 minutes from the house where my wife and I would meet and the schwank didn't start until 6:30. I figured, run the dawg for 45 minutes and then head to the party while the dawg sleeps it off in the car.

It was a wonderful evening at the dawg park. We pulled up to the parking area and the dawg started whining in anticipation. I have long given up on the leash for these types of outings because as soon as I open the tailgate, the dawg gallops to the entrance gate of the dawg park and sits patiently while I catch up.

The park must have had 50 dawgs there and as many owners. The weather was cool and there was an Autumn breeze in the air. But the amazing thing was, it was silent. I mean silent. Even though the dawgs were tearing around pell-mell, not a single one was barking. The owners, likewise, were quiet. I just stood there, breathing in the fall air, feeling the breeze wash the work week away, and the only sound was the soft jingle, jangle of dawg tags. Wonderful.

I struck up a soft and easy conversation with the owner of a pooch that my dawg had taken a liking to and when it was time to scoot, I was in a frame of mind to be a decent human being again.

I drove up to the casa-de-schwank and the wife was waiting outside. The wife knew two of the people that were going to be there and I knew none. There is something both relaxing and challenging about attending an intimate gathering of strangers.

Relaxing because no one knows what a miserable wretch you are - your slate is CLEAN, baby! On the other hand, it is tough to strike up any meaningful conversations so you are limited to discreetly admiring the house, commenting on the food and drink and avoiding the embarrassing fallback of , "So, what do you do for a living?"

=to be continued=

We're back. Posting about the dawg park made me want to go back - so we did. I packed the camping chair, a couple of magazines and picked up some canned beers and chips on the way (no glass in the park).

Where was I? . . . .

The food was amazing. I think it was "nosch". I don't know what "nosch" is but I have heard the word and I think it means tiny food that takes hours to prepare and is meant to give you an emotional / life / taste experience as opposed to normal food which is supposed to fill your belly.

The company was gracious, kind and fun. We all stood around, drinking champagne and swooning over four kinds of "stinky cheeses" (that's how the host referred to them), pate, home-pickled olives, caviar with creme-freche etc etc. and, of course, the obligatory bowl of potato chips.

At one point THIS GUY ordered us all into the dining room where each of us had a place setting complete with color maps of Italy, Spain and France and three - THREE! - glasses of champagne (or, as I learned, sparkling wine).

Mark proceeded to tell us all about the different types of sparkling wine. We were given pens to mark our maps, we sampled the three offerings and proceeded to sally-forth with our thoughtful comments on each. I discovered that I particularly like Prosecco - which you can apparently drink 24 hours a day. No Kidding?

It was delightful. The breeze at the park had washed away the work-week from my skin, the cool Autumn air had filled my lungs and washed away the work week from inside my chest, spending time with the dawg had washed the work week from a few corners of my soul and the sparkling wine, nosch and company was batting "clean up".

After sampling three "Charmat Method" sparkling wines, we all headed back into the kitchen for some nosch that made the previous nosch look like . . . well, I am attempted to say, "made the previous nosch look like hot wings at hooters" but that would not be accurate and would do a disservice to the previous nosch. Let's just say that it was good before - It was GREAT now . . .

Again, THIS GUY ordered us back into the dining room to taste three "Methode Champenoise" sparkling wines. After which, there was dessert and the company of strangers who had been eating and drinking all night settled into "clean up mode" (and by that I mean wisely cleaning up all the nosch that was left).

The wife and I said our good byes and headed for home.

It was a wonderful evening. I have no idea what it cost to lay out such a fantastic spread or to what was paid to have Mark Hayes Stuart come and lead the party through the regions of Italy, France and Spain via sparkling wine. But if it is anything less than priceless, it was money well spent.

Call THIS GUY, invite some friends and break out the nosch cookbook. I am on my way . . .

AAAAAAAnd We're Back (for now) . . .

The sweet freedom of the weekend is here and I can come up for air.

As I have previously mentioned, my old county manager was something of an optimist which led him to hang onto staff in preparation of the inevitable upturn in the market. This meant that there was a lot of thumb-twiddling by staff that didn't have much to do.

The new county manager is most definitely not an optimist. He seems to believe in staying ahead of the market by letting people go in anticipation of the future downturn. This leads to over-worked and understaffed folks coming in at 4:30am (such as myself).

Working 4:30am to 6pm does not leave much room for the rhythms and routines of normal daily life. But that is work-week talk and this is the WEEKEND!

I slept until 9am this morning. My blessed wife had made coffee before heading out to work. I loaded and started the dishwasher, did the same for the clothes washer, installed the new scanner / printer / copier / espresso maker gizmo, and now this.

*Deep breaths*