My Time With the Feds.

Approximately nine years ago I found myself unhappy with my current career path, and without a definite plan for the future. I intended to go back to school for a professional certificate in the fall, but didn't really know what to do to keep myself busy until then. Throughout the preceding years I had worked in a number of marginally interesting jobs for small compensation, and I wanted to shake things up a bit. I went down to the employment center in Larryville (near the doughboy statue) and met with one of its staff. I grabbed a quick bite to eat at the hot dog shop across the way before I went in. Unfortunately I caught a touch of food poisoning which began to hit me as I was talking with the job counselor.

Still I was able to keep it together enough to entertain several possibilities. It just so happened that the 2000 US Census was in its enumeration phase. There was a representative of the Pittsburgh office administering entry tests to see who might be qualified to work for "Old Glory". I've always been a proficient test-taker, and I did well despite the violent pangs in my stomach. I was offered a low-level temporary position downtown. Every day I walked from home at 47th and Hatfield to the high rise that is now the Westin Convention Center. I did a variety of office-type jobs, and always volunteered to get out in the field for some variety. Tracking down addresses that had forwarded no response to the mailed surveys could sometimes be challenging.

One day several Garfield teens tried to jack my car while I was idling in front of their rowhomes, trying to find a specific house. I was taken aback as they tried to enter through both doors of my beat-up GEO metro. The situation was so absurd that all I could think to do was to flash the closest one my federal employment badge (featuring a big ol' American flag) and smirk at them. That calmed them down, and they hastily retreated to a porch. I asked after them as I finally delivered a follow-up survey several houses down. They had become remarkably docile and polite. And it made for a pretty fun story back at the office. My supervisors especially paid close attention and decided that I should sit for a management test.

My training in psychology prepared me well for the exam. I was told that I got the highest score in the entire region. All it amounted to for me was that I knew what they were looking for. I answered the questions to fit their profile. But the project was so far underway that they couldn't offer me a high position. Still, what they gave me was a vast improvement over enumeration and data entry. I was made the crew leader for all of Lawrenceville. That meant that it would be left solely up to me to take the population count of the area. I had 23 employees working for me, and I was responsible for training and managing them. I reached my personal quota of 100% of the inhabitants accounted for. It turns out that the area was growing!

The best thing about that job was that I could set my own hours and work wherever I wanted to. For awhile I just had people drop off their completed surveys at my house. Then I decided I needed to have a more professional presence, and so I talked one of the local businesses into letting me set up on their second floor. I ran the count from Nooner's bar, which was located on Penn Avenue near Main Street. It was technically in Bloomfield. It's ironic that years later I would be spending a lot of time in my former "office"*. New owners purchased the place and transformed it into a hip destination called the Brillobox. Eventually the Census was concluded and I moved on. But I'm glad to have had the chance to help build the numbers for my favorite city neighborhood. It's been good to me ever since.


* Which I've recently learned was actually the "woman's floor" of the bar.

Know Thy Enemy (and Know Thyself).

You know, I never thought I'd be the kind of guy that pines after the old ways of doing things. I guess I've always fancied myself a bit of a renegade when it came to social conventions. Certainly there have been others more extreme in that position than me. I was fortunate enough to have the good sense to skip the "anarchy" phase of youth, at least in any organized sense. I'm not going to insist that I never broke the rules just for the sheer fun of it, but I didn't form a general philosophy to justify doing so. I've been the kind of person that needs to learn for himself. If you had, in the spirit of generosity, tried to advise me about the best way of doing something, I was likely to deliberately try something different first. Maybe you'd say I was "obstinate".

Nowadays I don't have the energy to seek firsthand knowledge of everything I consider doing. I've gotten a lot better at sussing out qualified sources, and trusting their own experience with the matter at hand. I'm by no means a micromanager. I realize that others are in a better position to achieve certain objectives that I have a stake in. If someone is willing to assume the responsibility, than I am more than happy to relinquish it. I try to look for quid pro quo whenever possible. Our society has grown so complex that we shouldn't expect ourselves to be able to do everything that needs to be done. That's why we have specialization. We're past the hunter-and-gatherer stage.

Anyway, I now have a healthy respect for earned authority. I may not necessarily regard the office itself as sufficient validation, but I've gotten fairly adept at recognizing expertise. Apparently though, there are plenty among us that find themselves incapable of trusting anyone to do anything with competence and skill. Specifically I'm finding a lot of people that simply think that they are experts on any topic, regardless of life experience, education, or other qualifications. And they are not too shy to let you know exactly what you are doing wrong, and/or how you might do it differently (in order to meet their particularly self-interested expectations). And they feel completely entitled to be taken seriously.

The other habit that a lot of these same folks have adopted is to immediately seek out the "person-in-charge". Once they have a problem, they decide that their plight takes precedence over anything else that is happening in the entire world. Then they commit to grabbing the ear of "the boss". The difficulty is that "the boss" rarely has direct experience of the situation that the demanding individual is inquiring about. Therefore "the boss" has to figure out who has immediate responsibility for the outcomes of the situation in question, and engage in a from of indirect communication. This can be frustrating for all involved. Obviously "the boss" has a lot on his plate, and is liable to express impatience- yet that won't always be directed at its source.

Meanwhile, the presumptuous tool who has skipped several levels in the chain of command has compounded whatever problems originally existed. He/she has failed to acknowledge that there is a proper protocol to observe when issuing a complaint. In fact, he/she has unintentionally subverted the entire system, which has been made to function efficiently only whenever people act appropriately within its structure. Because of such actions, others who have invested themselves within this system will be distracted from their roles. Things have developed as they are for a reason, and I wish people would make every effort to take this reality into account. Unfortunately too many will always feel that they know better.

Pedialyte and Baby Einstein.

Today I had the task of watching Baby E. here at home. He's got some type of stomach virus, and it's making his stool look like gruel. He also had a couple of puking bouts over the last couple of days. Fortunately he doesn't have any kind of fever to speak of, and that makes us feel better about his overall well being. Whatever he has doesn't seem to be making him that miserable. He's got plenty of smiles for us, and he's playing the same way he usually does. But our daycare doesn't want a kid there who has puked within the last 24 hours, or has any version of nasty diarrhea. M. called off yesterday to watch him, and she's going through her allotted sick days quicker than normal. She used her entire store after E. was born.

I've got plenty of days saved up, so it actually makes a lot of sense for me to take the duty. The problem is that I don't know what the hell I'm doing most of the time. Sure it sounds easy in theory... babies eat, poop, and sleep. However they have a particular manner of doing each of these things, and you only really learn about them through repeat experience. E. is also too young (or too stubborn) to have much of a fixed schedule. So far today I've had to simply guess when it's time to eat, nap, or get his diaper changed (that last activity is made a bit clearer from the stench emanating from E.'s nether regions). I have to rely on my resources of observation and persuasion to get by.

What complicates the issue is that E. is out of his routine, and thrown off by whatever discomfort his ailment is giving him. I knew I was in for it late last night when M. decided to take him to Children's Hospital. He had only wet his diaper once, and that's an indicator of dehydration. You certainly couldn't tell that anything was wrong with him from his behavior. He seemed pretty happy. But the doctor that M. talked to said that you can't risk it. She schlepped him out way past his bedtime for check-up, and wouldn't you know it... the professionals decided not to give him fluids via I.V. They recommended that we give him Pedialyte (for those of you who are unfamiliar, it's like Gatorade for tykes).

Anyway, when I woke up with the kid this morning, I was given strict instructions to try hard to get him to drink this nostrum. Apparently though, little E. has strict temperature requirements for his drinks. He doesn't like them cold. If you open a single-serving bottle of Pedialyte, you are supposed to refrigerate the remains. If he won't drink it when you break the seal, it's got to be preserved, and then heated to room temperature the next time you give it to him. Luckily M. was able to rush home during lunch hour to problem solve. She was exhausted of breast milk, so she had to be creative. She mixed some Pedialyte with rice cereal and fed him with a spoon. I would have NEVER thought to do that. But that's why she's the Mommy.

I'm grateful that I have at least developed the skills to keep him distracted. More accurately, I'm glad that there are people whose jobs revolve around making stuff like plastic toys and Baby Einstein DVDs. What did hapless fathers do before these technologies were invented? I guess they simply went to work and let the stay-at-home mothers take care of it. That's not an option for many parents nowadays. It's a serious issue. You'd think that some enterprising entrepreneur would start sickroom day cares for kids that can't attend their regular facilities. I guess there are too many concerns with public health for that to work. I envy folks who have extended families that can take up the slack. Still I guess I should just be thankful that I have a job that allows me to take off for these situation.

Chris Ballard, "The Butterfly Hunter" (2006).

When did you first decide what you wanted to be when you grew up? I remember considering a few things, based upon what I thought I was good at and how interesting different jobs seemed. Even so I did very little in preparation to act on those vague ideas. I knew I was going to college, and I figured the matter would be resolved during the four years of undergraduate school. That wasn't how it worked out. Half way through my junior year, I still didn't know what I wanted to major in. So I got out a sheet of lined paper and added up all of the credits I had in each content area. The winner was 'psychology', so I declared that my field of study. I graduated on time, but had no clue what the next step was. I ended up going for a master's degree in Psychology in Education.

With the tightening of the US labor markets, it's becoming increasingly imperative to consider this career question at a very early age. The competition for quality jobs is intensifying. You need to figure out what direction you are going in, and then figure out the prerequisites and requirements. The stakes are high, so you'd better seize your first chance, as it could end up being your only one. I've often envied people that know what they will be doing from childhood. Apparently some people are "called". Others have to strike out blindly for years before they see the signs. A good number of folks end up merely working whatever jobs allow them to attain their chosen lifestyles. How many people truly enjoy their work?

Chris Ballard knows that's an extremely hard question to answer. Instead of trying to quantify worker satisfaction, this frequent contributor to Sports Illustrated decided to identify and interview a few of these select individuals. A couple of them said they received their "calling" at an early age, while others seemed to stumble into it through something akin to divine intervention. The common thread running through their lives was the fact that they would be doing what they are doing even if they weren't getting paid for it. That's how much they love their work. And their stories are collected in Ballard's The Butterfly Hunter. They are an eccentric bunch of characters engaged in odd pursuits.

While these men and women are not really famous, you have no doubt heard one of them (and no, that's not a typo). Don LaFontaine has been called "the voice of God". If you have seen a movie in the theater during the last few decades, chances are great that you've listened to his narration during a promo trailer. He's the guy that came up with the now ubiquitous "In a world where (so-and-so happens)" introduction. And he's a very wealthy man. Still it's obvious that he has put a lot of energy into his work. The same goes for the guy who makes eyeball prosthetics, the lumberjill who competes on ESPN, the mother and daughter team that analyze handwriting, a pair of nature-lovers that collect mushrooms and butterflies, and the rest of Ballard's subjects.

The problem is that there really isn't a whole lot else that these people share, besides toiling in weird niches that intrigued the author. Ballard may attempt to draw some overarching, generalized conclusions by comparison, but he isn't altogether convincing. Each of these stories is so idiosyncratic that it seems silly to try to manufacture arbitrary trends. Yet even if Ballard fails to draw a greater whole, the parts are themselves often entertaining. He is able to put these strangers at their ease, and he collects a few damn fine anecdotes in the process. Whenever he manages to avoid becoming bored, Ballard's curiosity is able to elicit interesting insights. Read The Butterfly Hunter as a collection of separate essays depicting a few peculiar obsessives, and you'll enjoy yourself.

A Few Words About Teacher Strikes.

Because of personal bias, I really didn't want to get involved in the timely debate over teacher strikes. But it appears that a legislator in the PA state Congress is gearing up to introduce another ban on such actions. Representative Todd Rock had introduced a similar bill earlier this year, and local union activity has brought the issue back to the forefront of public attention. It seems that you can't tune in to a television news program, read a newspaper, or listen to AM radio without hearing plenty of commentary. Of course the vast majority of citizens are not teachers (or closely related to one) and they are understandably most concerned about how teacher salaries affect their property taxes.

Discussions based upon willingness to pay increased taxes are going to naturally be one-sided. While millage rates are not always applicable to all contract negotiations, you can bet that every school board will use them as a hammer to shape public opinion. Regardless of the reality of a district's finances, and whether or not there is a budget surplus in the educational system, the threat of more taxes is always going to be invoked by management. Only when the prospect of higher tax rates is removed from the discussion can we get at the core of people's feelings and thoughts about teacher strikes. Perhaps the underlying cause of a lot of the current invective regarding teacher unions could be mediated by a reassessment of property taxes- which is the primary funding source of public education. However, that entails a deep examination that I am not prepared to initiate here.

So why are most residents concerned about teacher strikes? Is it the pervasive animosity society has been programmed to direct toward all unions and collective bargaining? Less than 12% of American workers are members of unions. Ideas about the "free market" and the private sector have poisoned this society when it comes to the topic of unionization. Because corporations have been so effective in guiding our government toward the disenfranchisement of labor, it is almost impossible to have a rational conversation about what rewards we can expect from our employers. "Free trade" agreements have lowered expectations even further. The average worker salary, adjusted for inflation, has steadily decreased since 1970. The game is all but over, and the robber barons are consolidating their victory.

Consequently teacher unions are among the very last organized groups of professional workers in the nation. They are also (not coincidentally) among the last salaried employees to have adequate health care and pensions built into their contracts. Is it surprising that the most widely educated segment of the American workforce has managed to hold on to these benefits? PA educators are required by state law to be life-long learners. In order to acquire a permanent certification, teachers must earn the equivalent of a master's degree in post-graduate credits. In addition they must accumulate 180 hours of further education every five years to maintain active status. Because of these requirements they have learned to value their worth and significant collective contribution to a progressive and functional society. Their expectations for compensation are commensurate with their role as leading figures in the development of an educated population. To maintain their position they have cultivated a system to ensure their just reward.

Exactly what leverage would teachers have in contract negotiations if striking became illegal? How would they maintain the type of salaries and benefits that attract the brightest minds to the field of education? Being a teacher is a great responsibility on multiple levels. In every way, they are the true role models of society. Yet when they strike, they are accused of using children as hostages for their own advancement. However, this charge is fallacious. Students in PA are mandated by law to receive 180 days of education every year. Every day that teachers spend on strike must be made up during holidays or at the end of the original school schedule.

Critics of strikes claim that teachers get paid despite the fact that they aren't working. This is completely false. Without exception, they still must fulfill the terms of their 180-day contracts. Students don't lose a single day of curriculum. Additionally teachers sacrifice one non-working day for every one they spend on the picket line. They are substituting demonstration for "vacation". And all of this is in the service of just compensation. While it may be "inconvenient" for parents to adjust their schedules to accommodate strikes, it is simply not true that it is the kids that make the ultimate sacrifice. In the end strikes are a direct communication with the population that teachers serve- the parents and taxpayers of a district. You get what you pay for, and teachers are providing for the future. What value do you place on that?