So how’d I get here? I began the corporate journey at the age of twenty-two. I hired on for what I thought would be a job to serve until I found something else. I was setting up a store for a growing retailer (no intention of giving free publicity to my former employer. “You gotta pay, Frank. You gotta pay” Cole Younger, The Long Riders). Promotions to hourly supervisor positions eventually transitioned to salaried management. A growing family, stock splits, and stories from managers who were retiring at the age of forty kept me connected. “If I can at least stick with it for seven years until I’m fully vested, then I can do something on my own,” I thought. Thirty-two years and nine months later, I was laid off from my career, with a retirement fund which was sorely lacking (largely due to years of tending to immediate needs rather than the future needs).
When the axe fell, I must admit I had hopes I would find some new vocation with which to support myself and my family. Thirty-three years of corporate grind, dealing with customer complaints, managing people issues, commuting, and following someone else’s direction left me wanting a different way of life. Yet, that need for stability which had kept me connected continued to pull at me. Though I’d always dreamed of going it on my own, I focused my efforts on finding another corporate position where I could use my management experience. Even while I was looking, there were these dreams of a little building where I could do my thing all day long, listen to music if I chose, dress casually, step back with a look of pride at my work, take a long lunch with my wife if I wanted, and basically be the master of my own destiny. But how would I pay the bills?
I made it a point not to panic when the fateful day came upon me. With the little bits of information and rumors sifting through the corporate air vents, I started googling “what to do if you’re laid off” and reading the advice of others. After girding myself with the suggestions of the internet , I promised myself not freak out or to allow bitterness to take over. I knew wallowing in the bitterness, blaming everyone who still works for the company, and stagnating with regret would eat me up if I let it. So would tossing my hands up in the air. I knew my best approach was to stay calm, keep my eyes open, and keep busy.
Honestly, I had spent much of the previous thirty plus years trying to figure a way out of the rat race. I came up with business ideas, developed plans, and brainstormed with friends. The ideas stretched across the spectrum from writing, custom boot-making, a bbq trailer, a restaurant, woodworking, selling t-shirts, and nearly anything else my creative mind could touch upon. The writing was my strongest effort. While I was still working, I wrote six novels, but success did not follow. Still, I spent so much time thinking about how to get out, I never really considered the fact that I might be cast out. And when it happened, I suddenly found myself wondering, “What will I do?”
One year later I find myself with no better idea of my direction than I had the day after I was escorted from my building. When I looked back, I had dedicated a complete year to writing resumes and submitting applications for a job in my field. And aside from the lack of success with all of the applications I had filed, I still couldn’t find the one thing that I would like to do to make a living. I had so many interests, none of them seemed to stand out and none of them seemed to be feasible for putting food on the table.
I examined the previously mentioned custom boot-making, as well as boot repair — looking for schools or training. But that kind of business would take a lot of time to get moving; you have to build skills and a reputation. I dove into my writing, working on both novels and screenplays. I enjoyed it and it helped to relieve the voices in my head, but it hadn’t really led to any kind of success and certainly didn’t pay the bills. I kept myself busy. I refinished some furniture. I worked on the garage. I helped a friend with his cattle and some fencing. I even tried a hand at making wind chimes (which look great, btw), but even if I could sell them, I couldn’t see them sustaining us. I considered woodworking, welding, and any number of vocations which would allow me to work on my own. Yet, I could not find the right path.
The pressure was on. I was given a severance, but most of that money was used to pay off taxes and medical bills which we knew would become an issue if I couldn’t find work. In hindsight, it was probably the right move, but because of the severance pay, I didn’t qualify for unemployment. That meant the only other option for income was to take a partial distribution from my retirement account which wasn’t big enough for retirement in the first place and cost me in taxes. Another problem I faced with going it on my own was that even if I tried any of those crazy ideas I’d come up with, I would have to use funds which were sustaining us and paying out bills. I couldn’t get a loan; I was unemployed. Using those funds to start a business involved considerable risk. Was I really able to risk the investment into a career which might not be successful?
I wasn’t comfortable with it, so I just kept looking and applying for jobs. And I kept writing.
