"Nobody loves me but my Mother" (...and she ain't jivin' neither, B.B.): How my mom got her thirty-seven year old son a job

"I come home last Friday, talk to the landlady and told her I lost my job 
She says don't confront me. An' so I best have my rent next Friday 
An' next Friday come, I didn't have the rent an' out the door I went".
- John Lee Hooker, "House Rent Boogie"

Fortunately for me, that day never came; I never got put out on the street by my lady.  Since moving to London from Sydney in September, I have been in the unemployment line. Unfortunately, it is a very popular place to be...all over the globe. 

We moved to London based on a promotion my wife received from her company.  This meant me having to resign from my job back in Sydney. We make moves relative to the big picture; there is no such thing as sacrifice when it comes to making sure we are in the best position to succeed and enjoy our lives together.  Moving to London was a no brainer for many reasons. 

This is third time I have resigned (and we have moved) based on my wife's career opportunities. My career has become this collection of experiences in a few different countries: The States, Australia and now, London.

Last week I got a job. Not just any job, but the one I wanted in a direction that I wanted to take my career. 

Not bad. Three months in, and in the worst economy the UK has seen in some time, and with a switch in industries...I found me a gig.  

So why am I feeling a bit sad as I type? Because I don't get to continue to write on YUD anymore, that's why!  YUD (www.yourunemployeddaughter.com) is a blog run by a friend of mine. I have written a few posts for her blog where she talks about being unemployed as a New Yorker.  If you want to catch up on my previous posts for YUD, you can do so here:
If you don't want to read those and are the kind of person who just reads the ending to books, just go to the last post.  Here you go:

(Have a listen to this song before reading the rest of this story. No, really...you need to listen to it)
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That's right B.B.: Mothers don't jive...

...at least not when it comes to their sons. I'm no mama's boy, but I sure felt like one last week: my mommy just got me a job.

Yes, Yuddites, it is true. I had to rely on my mom (once again) to save my ass. Time and time again throughout my life my Mom (I call her "Ma") has been there to support me.  There may have been times when I pressed my luck and tested her patience, but Ma always did right by me.  

Living in London, I usually call home to the States every other week. You can bet the last dollar from your unemployment checks that my job search will come up in conversation. Parents never stop worrying about their kids (unless you are a cold hearted, irresponsible set of dumb-asses like Ballon Boy's two winners. Idiots). I knew only their best interests were on display, but as an unemployed person, the worst question to have to answer is: "how's the job search going?"

There is really just one way to answer to that question and you have only two options to choose from: "good" and or "bad".  When you are jobless there is no inbetween. Oh, we try and make ourselves feel good about it with half-assed responses about "great interviews" and "real potential with that one", but it is all a load of shit. No job is nooo job. 

The last time I spoke with my parents. My mom didn't ask me how the job search was, but she did ask me why I hadn't used one of her contacts she gave me. Ma had given me the name of a friend that is a senior VP of HR for this company.  To be honest, I looked at the helping hand as my mom just trying to be nice. Shit, if the Taliban were looking to hire, she'd pass along my resume if she thought it would help. 

Finally I relented and decided to get in touch with her contact.

What do you know...the Old Gal pulled through. I'm sorry I ever doubted you, mommy. 

The woman I spoke with in the US passed off my resume to her counterpart here in London. After a few email/phone conversations I found myself neck deep in a series of interviews. At the end of the final interview, the person who I was speaking to asked me "how do you know [the HR contact back in the States}?"  Maybe it was me, but I thought I noticed a bit of a smirk crawl across his face when he asked me that question (did he know?).

Wow. Here it was, right in front of me: a true Moment of Truth. I figured that if I was going to work with this guy, I might as well tell him how I arrived in his office. Why not, right? "The truth is easier," as my old pal Hunter S. Thompson used to say. 

We talked about this before, Yuddites. In an interview, if you can't be yourself, if you can't speak your mind, if you can't give them the "true-you"...what the hell are you doing there in the first place.

So I told him, just like this: "my mommy". 

I filled him in on the rest of the story about how she and my mom were friends. We both had a good laugh over it. He even called me a "momma's boy".  Humility is cool. 

So what is the moral to this tale about how I got my job?  Never underestimate a contact or lead. At any given time, sparks can strike where you least expect them to.

Oh yeah, there is another lesson: Mother does knows best

Good luck, Yuddites!

p.s.  I found it very ironic, if not scary, when I saw this recent story on the Huff Post.

Tagged BB King Digital Job Search John Lee Hooker London marketing Mom Music YUD YUP

Guest Blog Post on YUD.com: "William Shakespeare and the New Rules for Recruiters"

I have been a bit slack on writing for The 6149.  I'm sure the eleven people that read this are heartbroken. Since moving to London, my interweb access has been shoddy, at best. Finally we moved into a new flat two weeks ago. New digs means setting up the utilities, TV, phone and umbilical cord, better known as broadband connection.

Pause: as a result, I have had a chance to pause and think about what direction to take The 6149. I'll let that manifest as naturally and transparently as possible. 

Make no mistake about it, this blog is not a money maker or a product seller, nor is it soap box. It is a spot for me to talk about music, practice writing skills and provoke thoughts (my own and anyone else who is playing along at home). 

That being said, here is what might be my favourite Neil Young song: "Thrasher".  The themes, lyrics and symbolism in parts of the song play out here on the blog...and the subtitle of it as well. I love this fucking song.

_____

OK, back to the subject matter in this post's title. 

On two occasions in the recent past, I have guessed blogged on my friend's site, www.yourunemployeddaughter.com, otherwise known as "YUD".  YUD and I are kindred-unemployed-spirits. YUD's blog is a great read about life as an unemployed writer/managing editor and New York'er.  We thought it would be interesting if chimed in from a similar angle, but from London. For this exercise I am YUP: Your Unemployed Parter. Here is the original YUP post to find out what a YUP is.

Here is my latest YUD contribution with a preamble from YUD, herself:

Today’s dispatch from across the pond comes at a good time. I myself am a little bit down in the dumps about finding a job. Daylight savings time is over, marking the final door-slam on our already closed summer of frivolity, and while I have freelance work, it’s not enough to occupy me. I want more. Challenges! Excitement! Coworkers! I need more. Free Halloween candy in the kitchen! A water bubblah! Money!


And I’m irritated and a bit numb from not hearing back from the one million peoples and places to whom I’ve sent my resume, of feeling like every effort I go to has so little effect, why bother…


Oh, it’s deadening, isn’t it? But we can’t let that happen. Because we are good, we are worthy, we are deserving of jobs. And if those jobs don’t want us, fuck ‘em. It’s onward and upward, my friends.


One step I have not really taken has been going to a recruiter. I know others have done it. Some markets rely on them far more than others. But it’s a step that I may just turn to, next, since the jobs I see on Mediabistro and Craigslist are not doing it for me. ($5 to edit an article? Thanks, but no thanks.)


Let's listen to what YUP has to Say:


It’s time we had that chat. No, YUDites, not that chat. I hope by now you are well-versed in the ins and outs of the birds and bees. The chat I am talking about it the one concerning … recruiters [collective sigh]. Funny, isn’t it, how these two aforementioned topics are related: Sometimes you can get royally fucked by recruiters.


Oooh, that was harsh. Unfair to the entire recruiter community. That being said, there are some whose goal it is to turn you over quickly and put another notch on their bedpost/quota. You know them. They work for the big chop-shop recruiting firms. They shop you around like today’s lunch special hoping they can shoehorn you into a role. They are in it for them, not you.


You meet them in a small, antiseptic, unwelcoming room. They offer you water. They ask you to tell them your story. As you pour your guts out, they are looking right through you, categorically sizing you up. They ask some vanilla questions and say, “I think we may be able to do something for you.”


Yeah, right. Next time you hear from them, check the calendar. I bet you half of my next paycheck (whenever it arrives) it will be toward the end of the month (quota time!).


There are some very good recruiters out there … but you have to seek them out. These recruiters, or career consultants, are a bit harder to find, but worth the effort. They usually work in specialized, vertically aligned recruiting firms. They cover a specific sector. YOUR sector. They have good contacts. They care about placing quality with quality. They care about helping YOU find work.


I usually find three to five recruiters of this ilk. I meet with them and try to give them a very real perception of who I am, what I want, and how I want to go about getting it. This approach is even more important when you are looking in a foreign market.


Here are the Recruiter Rules I use when gathering my posse:

 

If you want to read on about my Recruiter Rules, head on over to YUD to read the rest of this post and check out some of her other musings on life as YUD:

William Shakespeare and the New Recruiter Rules

 

 

Tagged Job Search London Neil Young Recruiters Rules The 6149 Unemployed YUD YUP
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