Uh-oh, here I go again, raising the specter of perhaps this blog post being about something that some guys into leather get into.  Sorry… not the case.

This post is just to say that yes, I have begun my new job, and so far so good.  It takes a long time to get on board, with all sorts of paperwork and forms and such.  Photo IDs for this-and-that, fingerprints, retina scans, passport validation, etc., etc.  But it’s all good… I finally got my network ID and access to email, but not, as yet, a VPN so I can’t quite yet access all the systems at the office remotely.

I did get one of those cool new devices that hooks up to my laptop for accessing it.  This thing, called a CAC card, gives me access to the building as well as access to certain parts of the network, and when connected, actually makes my work phone number ring on my home phone.  It probably does other stuff too that if I found out about it and told you, I’d have to shoot you.

The “discipline” to which I am referring in the title of this post is working from home.  Most of the time, I will be working from my own home, and not in an office.  Even though the office is just a few miles from my home, there’s no reason to go there, as the majority of people I work with are scattered all over the U.S. and we all work together in greater cyberspace.

I must remain diligent in working on work time.  No foolin’ around on the computer, answering personal email, writing blog posts, or commenting on Facebook.  I really do have a serious work ethic that when I’m at work, I’m working, regardless of location.  That type of self-discipline is what earns me the right to be able to work remotely, because they trust that I’ll focus on getting the job done, and I don’t need to be in an office to have someone watch me do my job, which is mostly using the phone and a computer.  I can do that anywhere.

Pretty cool new way of doing work.  No commuting.  No hassles.  Start work as early as I want, and knock off at a reasonable time so I can have dinner prepared for my partner and handle other stuff, too, as needed.  I can also take my “lunch hour” to visit my aunt who lives 5 minutes away.  Heck, I’m pretty fat, dumb, and happy with this new gig… let’s hope it lasts.

By the way, “fat, dumb and happy” is a figure of American speech.  By working at home and taking lunchtime to visit my aunt, I can skip lunch and thus continue my weight-loss program by reduction of caloric intake on non-essential meals.  Also, since I don’t have to start work until 6:30am, I can continue to take my weight-loss walks between 4:30 and 6, which is also good for me. As I said, “it’s all good!”

Life is short:  let’s hope this easy-peasy method of working is able to last!

Today marks the end of one significant block of time in my life as I transition to another.  Today, I begin work at a new full-time job.  I was actively recruited for the position and survived some rather challenging interviews to get it.  I was offered the position in September, and was led to believe the appointment was imminent.  However, I had to go through an extensive background and security check, and wait for that to clear.  That happened in October.  Then funding had to come together, and that finally happened in November.  So now I can start work.  Yippie!

I was no slouch since I was laid off in June — contrary to ribbing I have received from friends, I have not slept until noon and then played on the computer all day.  I spent a lot of time every day during my time off caring for my aunt.  However, that wasn’t all that I did:  I bought and fixed up another house which just was rented by a first-year cop as affordable housing.  I did a lot of repairs and maintenance on my own home — so much so that I developed a hernia which was surgically repaired last week.

I (tried to) take some time to go for motorcycle rides, but I didn’t have as much time to ride as I would have liked.  But when I went, I had fun.  I also spent a fairly significant time taking pictures for and updating my website, including developing a major “refresh” for the Home Page.

I don’t really know where the time flew from June to November, but now it’s time to return to a more predictable, income-producing routine.  This is indeed the most major position I have taken on — lots of responsibility, a lot of work, and a salary commensurate with the challenges involved.  I think I’m ready.

The new job will involve some travel, and some of the trips will be significant to U.S. territories in the Pacific, including remote islands that are hard to reach by commercial air.  Oh well, I’ll figure that out when the time comes, as I’ve been to those islands in my past life.  In fact, I have my first trip already booked for a major international conference in February, located on an independent island nation in the South Pacific.

Some friends have been asking me, “how did you ever have time to work with all the other stuff you’re doing?”  Good question.  My response has been, “I’ve learned both how to multitask well and how to manage my time.”  But in all honesty, I know some things will have to change.

For example, I suspect that I will not have much time to write posts for this blog so they appear each and every day.  I may have to blog less often, especially because my work ethics prevent me from considering taking any time while on the job to dabble in blogging (or even answering personal email).  Further, I know I will not have time to make videos nor take pictures to update my website.  Again, that will have to “wait and see” when or if I have time for these things.  I want to give my fullest concentration to my new job and not be distracted by my hobbies.

Wish me well as I pursue the next chapter in my life, and I continue to learn that…

Life is short:  pursue it with commitment and gusto!

I was speaking with a friend, as well as my partner and my brother about a situation that came up recently. I was invited to an evening event that is being held in an upscale hotel’s penthouse that has a commanding view of the city of Washington, DC.  The event begins with cocktails, and is followed by dinner.  It begins “around” 7:30pm… with no stated end-time.  My partner was included (as in, “you may bring your spouse or ‘significant other’.”)  The dress code is “jacket & tie.”

When I received the invitation, I read though it and then rolled my eyes.  This event should be something I should attend, as it as to do with my new job.  It would give me an opportunity to “meet the team.”  However, it is being held in a place that is far away, late at night, in what, to me, is a pretentious atmosphere.

That is, I assert that events such as I described where people dress up to attend, that they are dressing to play a part, and the part that they play is not really who they are.  Thus, they are pretending… “putting on airs” … and perhaps showing off.  I detest this kind of stuff.

As I was reading the invitation, my stomach was tightening into knots.  It really was making me a bit ill even to think about having to go to the event.  But… it’s for the new job, so I would have to buck up, get over my reluctance to attend, suit up, and join the party.  I would have to go alone, since my partner absolutely, positively, would not go with me (and I wouldn’t force the issue).

However, then I realized that the date of the event is one day after I am scheduled to have my hernia repaired.  There’s no way that I could drive all the way across town to an event that runs late into the night when I am just recovering from surgery.  Surely, the new boss will understand that!  (He did.)

Anyway, I feel that I am quite in the minority when it comes to events like this.  Most people would jump at the chance to go to this venue, and be wined and dined in such an upscale atmosphere.  Am I alone in feeling repulsed by this?

The timing of these things is about as follows:  “starting at 7:30pm” means that the “fashionably late” time to arrive is 8:00 to 8:30pm… with an hour of drinking alcohol (which I don’t) until about 9:30pm, then dinner with stuff I can’t eat… estimating the event ending about midnight, followed by an hour’s drive home.

How does one tell the new boss that he turns into a pumpkin at 9pm?  Or tell him that he can’t eat what likely will be served? (don’t tell me, “share your diet restrictions.” Believe me, that doesn’t work.) … or that I don’t drink alcohol, including wine (which makes me physically ill)… so “have plenty of water?”  Yeah, right.

Do men who dress up in a suit and tie escorting their lovely (female) spouses dressed in a nice dress to events like this behave differently compared with men who, for example, show up at a buddy’s house in comfortable clothes to watch a football game?  I contend that they do… and further, much of the behavior in such costume is pretentious.

I could be wrong, and would invite comments to disabuse me of that notion.

Meanwhile, I’m just hangin’ out in jeans, leather, and boots.

Life is short:  be who you are, not something you’re pretending to be.

Networking is an old term. Some call it “shmoozing” and others call it other things, but the old axiom is true: it’s not what you know, it’s who you know, that gets you a job (speaking of the profession in which I work).

I’m really not the social sort. If I had a choice of going to a reception at the end of a long day, I often would skip it and go home. I have attended hundreds of conferences, and again, at the end of a long day of conferencing, I’d go back to my hotel room and go to bed early rather than go out to a late dinner with other conference attendees and “network.”

However, there is power in developing a large circle of people who not only know you’re name, but also know your skills, abilities, and interests. Over many years, I would spend quality time with people in both professional settings (teaching, public speaking, collaborating on projects, etc.) and socially (off-times during conferences or training sessions, mostly.) They would get to know me and I would get to know them. We would keep in touch, though the frequency of contact varied.

Such was the case with me these past few months. I was laid off from my job on June 4. I saw it coming, and accepted it as a fait accompli. I felt that my calling had changed from working to earn an income at a job that simply was that — a job — to caring for my elderly aunt who needed a lot more help and attention and my “job” was to do everything in my power to enable her to live safely, comfortably, and well.

So throughout June, July, and August, I concentrated on helping my aunt get through a serious health crisis where she could have died. I spent many hours every day organizing a lot things required to enable her to live in her own home, yet have professional caregivers with her 24/7. Even though she has caregivers with her all the time now, it still requires lots of my time to keep her fridge and pantry stocked, meds updated, visiting and keeping her mind active, and to attend to minor but serious problems like skin infections and other things.

Throughout my layoff time, I would occasionally visit an on-line job board to see if there was something I was interested in doing. I applied for some jobs, but none of these positions would invoke my passions. If I were hired for one of these jobs, it would pay the bills, but I just would be going through the motions of doing what I had to do. Not much fun….

Well, anyway, I also kept up the networking through the summer. Posts on Facebook, LinkedIn, and other social networking sites, as well as direct email, telephone conversations, and so forth kept the word out that I wanted to return to my profession and do what I am recognized for on the national stage.

It was one of those people who led me to learning about a position that is perfect for me. A Facebook friend sent me a link to a description of my perfect job — on my birthday no less (great timing, huh?). The job description was posted on another social network, LinkedIn.

I submitted my resume, and got a call within an hour to set up an interview. The first interview led to a second. The second interview led to a real-time test of how I applied my skills during an exercise.

I had stiff competition for this position. I put out a call to my network for references, and was overwhelmed to receive over 70 thoughtful, thorough replies. I had four professional references from top-notch people written for me on request, as well. My references (also developed through years of networking) really pulled for me and helped convince them to make me an offer for what will be my dream job: in my field, and something about which I am exceptionally passionate about.

I begin my new job on Oct. 4 November 22 (changed, thanks to how slow bureaucracy is), and will be working with people who I have known professionally for years. Great thing about it is that it’s an absolutely perfect match for my skills and passions. It’s also right in my home town, so the commute will be simple.

So I am here to say that I was wrong — just a year ago I was writing here with a “bah-humbug” attitude about Facebook and social networking in general. But I acknowledge that without that contact, I probably wouldn’t have known about this job and wouldn’t have applied, been interviewed, or gotten such a generous offer.

Life is short: network! (including social networking, too!)

I was interviewed this week for a job. Really, a career, as this new job is well within my scope of my life’s work. I think I nailed it, and was pleased they took 2-1/2 hours to ask many questions. This was the final interview, since I went through two other preliminary interviews by phone and was included on the “short list” presented to the employer.

I was dressed in my best clothes — new jacket, tie, dress shirt, and dress slacks that my partner got for me. He always dresses me well, as ordinarily I’m a t-shirt-n-jeans kinda guy (in hot weather; otherwise, leather is my preference.)

I really debated about what boots to wear to this interview. (Remember, I do not own nor would I ever wear dress shoes. YUCK!) Would I ride my Harley to the location, and thus require motorcycle boots? Or would I drive my truck, and choose dress cowboy boots instead?

I let the weather decide. If it is hotter than 90°F (32°C), then I won’t ride my Harley, because I sweat so much that my clothes would be stinkin’ wet when I arrived. That’s really not much of a problem if I’m just out riding, but it sure would not be a good thing to have happen for an important job interview. You don’t want to show up with dark wet stains across your shirt and crotch, caused by sweat due to the physical heat of the sun and the heat of the Harley’s engine.

In this case, it was 95°F (35°C) at the time of the interview. That’s way too hot to ride a Harley in dress clothes without potentially sweating them to death. Plus, my best-looking motorcycle boots are Dehner Patrol Boots. They fit well, but do not allow much breathing room on my legs, so I would even sweat more in the hot sun.

I put on my Lucchese lizard wingtip cowboy boots, which looked great with that outfit. I even turned the AC on in my truck, which is a rarity, so I arrived looking fine, without any sweat stains. The only problem if there were one with the cowboy boots that I chose to wear is that they have a steel shank. That set off the alarm at the magnetometer at the entrance to the building where the interview took place. Just like at an airport, I had to take my boots off and run them through the metal detector. The guard, though, admired the boots and asked me where he could get a pair.

After the interview, I was invited to go with the head guy to a coffee shop across the street so he could give me some more information. I went along, but was aghast that this overly-yuppified place didn’t have anything I could drink, since I don’t drink coffee or tea. I swear, a zillion forms of coffee, but nothing else. I finally got them to give me a cup of tap water. (They thought I was nuts.)

I glanced around at all the yuppies sitting there with their laptops and other wireless devices, and did the best to hide a cringe on my face from the guy who will become my new boss. I just don’t like places like that. Yuck. I really have to examine in a separate blog post sometime just what it is about yuppie gathering spots that make me feel uncomfortable. I mean, I was already out of my comfort zone having to wear a monkey suit.

Oh well, I’ll know soon enough about the job. Meanwhile, I’m back in to beat-up old engineer boots, jeans, and t-shirts again. Enjoying them for daily wear while I can.

Life is short: wear your booted best!

Many little boys, when asked what they want to be when they grow up, say, “a firefighter” or “a police officer.” These professions are admired for the honorable and hard work that they do. They get into tough situations, save lives and property, and do honest public service for pay that often is not commensurate with the challenges of their high-risk profession. They rise to a higher calling to care for others and protect public safety. They put up with a lot of crap from the public who think only about themselves, not for others’ safety, or don’t think anything bad, like a home fire, could ever happen to them.

As I was growing up and considering my options, I moved toward education with a focus on public safety. That’s what I do. That’s what I know. That is where I have been trained, and have assumed various leadership positions to pass on skills and knowledge to others to help them be better at what they do.

Why not be a cop? Well, for one, when in high school and college, I was still a very klutzy, non-athletic kid. To this day, I still trip over shadows and non-existent obstacles. Some of the guys I knew who entered respective police or fire academies were naturally athletic. That left me out. I honestly didn’t think I could pass the physical tests that new recruits had to go through. (I watched a cousin go through his physical tests for the police academy, and even though he was “Mr. Jock” in high school, he still had trouble with those tests.)

My high school friends who entered law enforcement had a respect and an interest in guns. I didn’t. I still don’t. They each had to demonstrate that, if in the appropriate and justified circumstances, they could shoot someone. I just don’t think I ever could point a weapon at another human being (or an animal, for that matter) and intentionally hurt them. Does that mean that if someone were coming after me with intent to do harm that I would roll over and let them? Of course not; I would defend myself as best I could. However, I never want to be in such a situation so I did not consider entering a profession that would require carrying and perhaps using a gun.

In my civic life, I work with a lot of law enforcement officers. Most of my work is in meetings, on topics like reducing the lure of gangs, preventing “tagging” (graffiti), and making our community a safe and secure place to live, raise families, and enjoy life. I don’t ride with motorcops daily, though I have had a number of times when I have been escorted on motorcycle rides by working motorcops looking after our safety.

I respect the law enforcement and firefighting profession tremendously, and do my part to ensure that law enforcement officers and firefighters earn the respect they deserve for the hard work that they do. From providing affordable housing, to advocating for pay and benefits, to helping to educate my neighbors and elected officials about hazards and how to be safe.

Some people have asked me, “you seem to like uniforms, so why wouldn’t you be a cop?” My response has been what I explained above. Plus, having spoken with a lot of law enforcement officers over the years, their “real jobs” are nothing like what television shows make them out to be. A lot of their time is boring… waiting… and hoping actually that they don’t get a call. To them, each call may mean trouble, and they would prefer that trouble not happen in the first place.

So that’s why I have spent most of my career in prevention and education. Let’s make that trouble “not happen.”

In summary, I have deep respect for firefighters and law enforcement officers, and play my part to help prevent trouble as well as support what they do. We work together in our community. I appreciate that. But did I ever want to be a cop? … well, probably when I was a youngster, I might have said that I did. When I grew up, I found my calling was elsewhere.

Life is short: support public servants!

“Dude, that’s basically awesome,” so said the kid who once occupied the workspace outside my office when he saw a photo of me on my Harley. (Anyone less than half my age, even if he is a college graduate, is a “kid” in my opinion if he continues to speak as if he is still in junior high school.)

When he’s not abusing “basically,” every other word is “awesome.” They say that the younger generation always comes up with meaningless expressions that drive the older generation nuts. This is one such experience.

The word “basically” has replaced “umm” and “ahh” as a space-filler when speaking. Most people are, like, basically, afraid of, basically, dead air when they speak, so they like, basically, fill the void with “basically” just to have some noise. Isn’t that awesome?

I know that I say expressions such as “that’s great” or “that’s neat” instead of “awesome, dude.” Used sparingly, “awesome” isn’t basically so bad. But “basically” is. Hardly anyone uses “basically” to mean “fundamentally.” It’s just awesome, however, when they do.

Life is short: basically be comfortable with a pause of silence if you need to think while speaking. That would be basically awesome, dude!

Maria said in The Sound of Music, “When the Lord closes a door, He opens a window somewhere.”

I have always liked this expression, and lately, it has applied to me. Yep, one door of my life is closing, and I am searching for that open window. The funding for my job runs out in June. It’s not personal, nor reflective on my work. It’s a catch-up of the awful, prolonged, economy.

Come June, I will no longer be commuting into the city on a regular basis. That is, unless that window opens soon and I get an offer that I can’t refuse and the location for a new job is back in the city.

I would prefer to work out in the Maryland ‘burbs where I live, but I can work in DC with no problem. Working in Virginia, though, would be hard to do, since I did that for eight years and almost lost what was left of my mind due to the awful commute. Plus, I do not have up-to-date shots to ward off their rabidly homophobic AG.

I am unwilling to move from my home. I worked hard building our house, and building my community with all of my life-long relationships, and I’m not about to leave them. My partner is well-settled where he is, and I would never make an independent move just for a job that didn’t involve him being right there with me. (Which is why I am not working in San Francisco or in Australia. I have had several offers there over the years, but as I said, I am unwilling to relocate.)

I am fortunate in many respects. First, I wasn’t fired and it’s not a black mark on my resume. It’s simply a function of the economy, and zillions of people have been caught up in that situation. Second, my partner, close family and friends understand and say many things that continue to bolster my spirits and keep me looking forward. Third, I have a significant cash reserve of funds saved, that even if I had not another penny of income, I can live as I enjoy for at least 22 months entirely on my own barring unforeseen financial burdens. My partner and I share joint expenses for our household, and I will continue to hold up my share of our costs. Good thing is that we both choose not to eat out, we make our own lunches, we aren’t traveling on exotic vacations, or otherwise, spending money that we don’t have.

It’s time to move on, move up, and get re-energized. When the Lord closes a door, He opens a window somewhere….

Life is short: keep looking forward.