Just another day as an unemployed journalist -- another step forward

I hate this. I absolutely hate this!

Today makes 14 months since I was laid off from my job at The Record in Stockton, Calif. That is one year and two months; or 56 weeks; or 417 days; or 10,008 hours, give or take; 600,480 minutes.

Give or take. But who’s counting. Phew! …

I’ve written about this before, so I won’t belabor this too much. To make a long story – at 14-month long story – short, I had been a journalist at mid-sized newspapers in Northern California for 22 years. I had been working at The Record since 2006 when I was laid off March 5, 2009.

Underestimating the severity of the downward dive in the economy, I assumed that I would be back to work within three months or so if I made finding a job my job. But three months came and went. And then six months. And nine months. And one year. Now, 14 months.

I have been looking for work every since – at newspapers, wire services, online news services, governments, green industries, nonprofits. I recently applied for a job at a greeting card company, which I’m sure my newspaper buddies will find as ironic as I find ironic. I mean, a long-time curmudgeonly crime and chaos reporter turned curmudgeonly copy editor turned curmudgeonly columnist turned curmudgeonly assistant news editor turned curmudgeonly opinion page editor – you get the point – is not your typical greeting card employee.

Over-qualified or undertrained, that’s been part of my problem. Oh, and trying to find a job in a really shitty economy doesn’t help.

I have applied for hundreds of jobs from sea to shining sea. Seriously, sea to shining sea, and a few places in between. My job search has centered on the West – California, Oregon, Nevada, Arizona and Washington state – and my native New England – Maine, New Hampshire, Vermont, Massachusetts, Connecticut and Rhode Island. Frankly, I’ve noticed that the greater the distance the job opening, the lower the chances that I’ll even get an email telling thanks, but no thanks, but I keep trying. Everything has to be about making a step forward every single day.

But – again, frankly – momentum has been a problem. The holidays took a bit of the wind out of my momentum sail – too many three-day weekends that stretched into four-day segments when job websites didn’t post new openings. And – again, frankly – there usually wasn’t many job openings to be posted, even without three-day weekends that stretched into four days.

But things are changing. Or so they say. The economy is picking up. Or so they say. And businesses and nonprofits and governments and everyone is hiring or at least planning on hiring. Or so they say.

I have noticed more and more job openings being posted on job websites and more friends and acquaintances are passing along more job openings.

And I am again gaining momentum and applying for more jobs. I even feel confident enough to be relatively selective in my job pursuit – the greeting card application notwithstanding. (Very frankly, that job would be pretty cool, despite the irony of a crusty, dusty newspaperman participating in something as soft and fluffy as the greeting card biz.)

I’m fed up with being unemployed.

I’m hungry to get back to work.

I’m ready, willing and able to get back to work.

I’m just hunting for a break.

I’m sure that I will be working again. I just want it to be now. Now would be good.

News leaders and the future | Project for Excellence in Journalism (PEJ)

News Leaders and the Future Project for Excellence in Journalism (PEJ)

Letters from away – no postage due

(Originally posted October 2009 on the original “Letters From Away” blog on WordPress.com blog. Both are written by the same author. – KM)

I have lived in California the past quarter century, but a day does not go by that I do not think about Maine where I was born and raised. I recall the smell of it, the taste of it, the sight of it, the sound of it, the touch of it, the people of it. It is likely that I would bleed pine sap if I were to be cut deeply enough.

Why do I not live there, then? Why do I continue – at least for now – to live on the Left Coast?

Good question. I have asked the same one a million times since 1983 when I moved to Northern California to attend California State University, Chico. I went there as part of the National Student Exchange program. I had been attending the University of Southern Maine for a couple of years, but had an itch to see other places and do other things. At the time that meant moving to California.

Once at Chico State – yes, the same Chico State regularly named as a top party school – I eventually picked journalism as a career choice and for two semesters was editor of the campus newspaper, The Orion. I also was a wildland firefighter during my college days, which was a wonderful experience. For another time and blog entry, though.

I earned a bachelor’s degree in journalism and a minor in social work, and then began a career working at small and medium-size newspapers. During the past 22 years, I have worked as a newspaper reporter, copy editor, columnist, assistant news editor, opinion page editor, assistant city editor, and Web site reporter. I have covered crime and baby derbies; horrific vehicle crashes and chili-eating contests; presidential campaign stops and beauty pageants; the Blue Angels and flew on the last flying B-24 left in the world. I have been to Africa, Germany and Haiti while working as a reporter.

And then there were the people, some famous, some not-so-famous, some infamous, and some just plain characters. That may be the very best part of journalism, meeting and writing about the type of people who make up our world.

That was part of the draw of staying in California, I suppose. I was doing things and seeing things and writing about things I was not sure I would be doing, seeing and writing about if I was back in Maine. That very probably is not true because I think this country has a very rich mix of people of all types, shapes, sizes … well, you get the idea.

So, for those reasons I have been “from away” to do things, see things, write things and meet people. And in a flash, it has been 26 years. I have lived “away” longer than I lived in Maine.

But for all that time, I have been a Mainer to the core. I am ardent in my love for Maine.

Please come back often to this blog to read about a Mainer “from away” and what he thinks about the native land that he still loves very, very much.