My tenth-grade science teacher was a short, ugly, middle-aged junkie who lived in the slums on the wrong side of town. But I’m not allowed to say that anymore. Instead, political correctness dictates that I write something like, “My high school pedagogue of advanced scientific theories was an unconventional-looking, vertically, and chronologically challenged male with a substance abuse dependency who lived in an economically deprived part of the propinquity. There. Does that sound better? Hmmm… Not to me. What set me off on this ridiculous diatribe was the deflating news that my favorite California ski resort is succumbing to pressure to change its name.[1] By the start of the next…
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What in the Heck is a Ghostwriter? And why should you be using one?
Imagine for one moment, you’re standing on the threshold of the Pearly Gates. Saint Peter is perched high upon his pulpit examining the records of everyone waiting in line to get into Heaven. Like a final audit, if you will, he’s making one concluding determination who gets in and who goes to… well, you know… that other place. As the line inches forward, you overhear St. Peter asking each old soul cowering in front of him, “Well, how have you lived your life? What did you do with what we gave you? Did you share it with anyone else?” In essence, he’s asking for your elevator speech—a 30-second pitch on…
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Never Ask a Repairman What’s Wrong? They’re working hard to keep you in the dark
The dentist’s office is a place where I’ll go in for a simple tooth cleaning, and find out I need my entire jaw reconstructed. Plumbers have mastered the “long, slow whistle,” and auto mechanics are masters of, “Well, there’s good news and bad news.” Your computer repairman can lapse into a string of vernacular that would leave Stephen Hawking in the dust. The Ice Maker from Hell “Well, I can go ahead and connect the ice maker for you, but it’ll be expensive. When they delivered the refrigerator, they bent the female Stratten joint leading to the anode rod, causing the thermocoupler to rub against the angle stop.” “Now, I…
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Adventures in Shoe Sales The truth about what goes on behind the scenes at Thom McCan's
By the summer of ’69, I was broke. Despite working every conceivable, worthless dead-end job, from counting ball bearings to baking “surprise-filled” doughnuts for the First Baptist Church of Van Nuys, I had absolutely nothing to show for my efforts. I was twenty years old, fresh out of the Navy, and ready to start my college education at Los Angeles Valley College in the fall. I was desperate for any job that would take me. Any job. My best friend Tom was working at a local shoe store called Thom McAn’s. He told me they just had an opening. Would I like to apply? He’d worked there for four years…
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Is Freelancing for You? How to decide if working for yourself is the right step to take
When I was a kid growing up in Southern California, my job search was only limited by the number of interviews I could get to on my bicycle or skateboard. A few years later, that expanded to how far I was willing to drive in my VW bug. When the Internet blew the top off of the job market in the early 1990s, I suddenly found myself competing against Divyansh, Raghav, and Uthkarsh in Bangladesh—even though the job was less than three miles from my apartment in Southern California. Then in the first quarter of 2020, the poop hit the fan. Little did I know, it would take a global…
