Posted on April 6, 2010
Tick Tock
Whew, I’m tired. I’m settling into my new job quite nicely, but adapting to the change in my schedule is proving more difficult than previously suspected. While I don’t have to come wandering into the newsroom until mid-morning, I do stay at work a bit later than I’m used to. This alone isn’t a bad thing, but when trying to cram in as much quality time as possible with my three-year-old while still maintaining this blog in conjunction with steadily chipping away at the mountain of all the new projects I’m working on, time tends to slip past with an alarming ferocity. Sometimes, when it’s late in the evening and morning’s dawn is racing towards me with an evil grin on its face, if I squint my eyes just right, I can almost peer through the veil of reality to see the hourglass of my life timer perched atop a high shelf in Death’s Domain, its sands pouring through the frosted glass with a terrible alacrity. Ok, so maybe it’s not quite so dramatic as all that, but I do feel time’s sting a bit more keenly these days. I’m not quite sure why this is, but I have a few ideas.
The most probable reason is the extreme shift in working environments I’ve experienced with my recent career change. Going from the melancholy halls of a lethargic bureaucracy so out of touch with reality and behind the times that it would be laughable if it weren’t so scary, to the frenzied and lunatic environment of the modern newsroom has been a bit jarring to the senses – but in a good way. Working for a public school district certainly had its perks: the absurd amount of holidays, the extreme job security of government work and the guarantee that its employees only ever fail upward were hard things to give up. However, by doing so I’ve embraced a lifestyle that promises endless excitement, dynamic working days filled from morning coffee to evening stumblewalk with all kinds of frenetic obliquity and – perhaps most importantly – comes packaged complete with the sweet siren’s song of Making A Difference.
Sure, the newspaper business is risky, but that’s kind of the point. The school district was safe – safe, and mind-numbingly predictable. The only thing more steady than the mail, for example, is the certainty that the Beaumont Independent School District will continue to recruit the most incompetent and offensively stupid jellyheads of the world into its highest echelons, 
passing the twin burdens of cleaning up their messes and doing the real work downward to the underpaid, overworked and understaffed drones of the system. And, bearing that horrible conjoined albatross, those poor hapless bastards will toil through eternity in service of their Captain, who himself has all the navigational acumen of a blind goldfish swimming around in a bowl full of cloudy Jell-O. The worst part is, they’ll be happy about it! I know I was. Sure, I groused and groaned with each fresh new Hell unleashed upon my Inbox by the Powers-That-(Shouldn’t)-Be, but I was happy to have a cushy government job that required no more effort than the simple capacity for withstanding a hideous assault of extreme stupidity on a regular basis. Eventually, however, even the most acquiescent of plebian slaves will reach a point where he or she realizes that they are nothing more than the little dutch boy, holding back the relentless Ocean Of Stupid with a finger stuck firmly in the proverbial dyke – and the waters are rising. It’s a losing battle, so you either give up, give in and wait for death or retirement (whichever comes first), or you simply get the frak out. I chose the latter, and I’m better off for it.
The second reason has less to do with being suddenly liberated from the slumberous chains of mundanity, and more to do with simply loving what I’m doing. I actually look forward to going to work now, which is something I haven’t experienced in a very, very long time. It doesn’t hurt that I enjoy the company of my coworkers, either. From the effervescent scorn of Mrs. Tiny to the laid back charm of the Gentle Rebel, the people I work with are eclectic, inclusive and – above all – they are interesting. I thrive on interesting. My editor is softly demanding, always setting hard and specific goals without employing the abhorrent practice of micromanagement, and the ever-present Tech Guru is always on hand to lend his expertise and share his passion for what we’re doing, and what we’re trying to accomplish. The other folks around the newsroom, from the infectiously perky to the jaded and cynical, all work together to create a sort of electric air about the place. Every moment feels on the verge of something explosive. Something primal and important crackles through the environment like a thousand tiny tendrils of lightning forking over everyone’s heads, putting them on edge and energizing them to power through the lulls and get to the next bit of breaking news. Maybe it’s not quite so grand as I’m picturing it through my Mary Tyler Moore glasses, but regardless of my own perceptions, it’s a damn sight better than what I’m used to.
Perhaps the most amazing thing about my job – the most mind-blowing and astonishing observation I’ve had in my past sixteen years on this planet – is that everyone is strangely competent. It’s a new experience for me, being able to communicate with people who understand what I’m saying and who I myself can understand without the need for having an English-To-Stupid travel dictionary handy. People click through the paper’s rather cumbersome content management system with the slick ease of oil on teflon, pausing only when the system can’t keep up with their frantic paces. If you ask someone how to do something, they don’t refer you to someone else or try to dazzle you with a buzzword-laden non sequitur – they simply answer your bloody question with both confidence and the faintest hint of bother. It’s refreshing!
Lastly, the third most probable cause for my sudden appreciation of time comes from the culture shock I’m experiencing that has everything to do with how differently a 123 years old, privately-owned corporation does business in contrast to the slow-moving, obtuse and deliberately misleading environment I’m used to. During my brief but informative orientation session, all of my bigger questions about working for the company were answered and defined in clear, concise terms that left no room for interpretation. The Hearst Corporation knows exactly what it wants from its employees, and it makes no effort to obfuscate its expectations. It’s demanding, but fair. Difficult, but rewarding. Honest, but…well, it’s just honest. After my miserable final experience with Beaumont ISD, that word is pretty important to me. I know exactly what is expected of me at all times, and I’m confident that exceeding those expectations will yield rewards in the months and years to come. While other media companies are floundering in today’s online world, Hearst is not only adapting, but excelling in blending the old ways with the new. My editors have made it clear that they’re open to new ideas and to trying new things to see what works and what doesn’t. The process is constantly evolving, and is doing so with such rapidity that I’ve already been involved in some of these changes in the short week that I’ve been at The Beaumont Enterprise. It’s an exciting challenge that the whole corporation seems eager to undertake, and I’m proud to be counted amongst their ranks.
In other news, there has been a bit of unpleasant business regarding Trey’s father that I’d rather not go into here, save to say that such unfortunate interactions are becoming increasingly tiresome. I long for the day when all interested parties come to the realization that every dispute, every heated discussion, and each single incident does no service to Trey. I continue to cleave to the silly hope that, in time, everyone will start putting the needs and interests of the child ahead of their own, regardless of their own pride or senses of justice. At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter who ‘won’ this fight or that one – because, invariably, Trey loses. Every time. I’ve never known a more sensitive and caring soul than the one that inhabits his 
energetic body, and every bit of unpleasant business with his father stabs like a rusty knife through my chest, dragging across my ribcage and tearing through my flesh and meat and bone. I can only imagine what it’s doing to Trey, although I don’t want to.
The only thing that bites harder upon my own soul than imagining his pain is the mournful thought that the damage is not imaginary, and I can’t bear to dwell on it overlong. In fact, now that I’ve reflected on the situation while writing this, I’ve nothing more in me to put to the keyboard today. Sorry to end on a downer, but sometimes that’s how things go. Maybe it’s a glass half-full/half-empty sort of thing, and I’m just sitting on the pessimistic side of the bar, which I find to be an altogether unsettling and intolerable state of affairs. I’m not a half-full/half-empty sort of guy. No, I prefer following the ancient wisdom of the great philosopher Pratchett, who once wrote: “There are, it has been said, two types of people in the world. There are those who, when presented with a glass that is exactly half full, say: this glass is half full. And then there are those who say: this glass is half empty. The world belongs, however, to those who can look at the glass and say: What’s up with this glass? Excuse me? Excuse me? This is my glass? I don’t think so. My glass was full! And it was a bigger glass!”
Want some books? 'Course ya do!
NOTE: I know times are hard and yeah, I need to make a living too, but if you want to read any of my books but can't afford to buy them right now, hit me up.
I'll take care of it.
Humor | Nonfiction
Available now from the following retailers
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Have you ever lived through an experience that was so humiliating that you wanted to die, but when you tell it to all your friends, they can't stop laughing?
Have you ever made a decision that seemed like a good idea at the time, but you're still living with the hilarious consequences years later?
If so, then grab a snack, get comfortable, and prepare to have all of your own poor life choices seem just a little bit more bearable.
You're welcome.
Short Stories
Available now from the following retailers
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The nine stories of rage and sadness collected here range from the most intimate of human experiences to the wildest realms of magic and fantasy. The first story is a violent gut-punch to the soul, and the rest of them just hit harder from there.
Those who tough it out will find a book filled with as much hope as despair, a constant contradiction pulling you from one extreme to another.
Life might knock us down, over and over, and will the beat the ever-loving snot out of us from the time we're old enough to give it attitude until the day we finally let it win and stop getting up.
Always get back up.
Gaming | Nonfiction
Available now from the following retailers
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This isn't just a book. It's a portal to other worlds where there be magic and dragons and hilarious pirates. Okay, not really. But this book is about those portals, except they're called video games.
The Life Bytes series of books take a deep dive into one man's personal journey through childhood into kinda/sorta being a responsible, competent adult as told through the magical lens of whatever video games he was playing at the time.
Part One starts way back in 1975 and meanders down various digital pathways until, oh, around about 1993 or so.
If you're feeling nostalgic for the early days of gaming or if you just want to understand why the gamer in your life loves this hobby so much, take a seat in your favorite comfy chair and crack this bad boy open.
I'll try to not be boring.
Horror
Available now from the following retailers
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What you are about to read is not a story. There is no beginning, middle, or end.
What follows is nothing more than a series of journal entries involving shadow people, sleep paralysis, and crippling fear. It’s not pretty, it doesn’t follow story logic, and nothing works out well in the end.
You've been warned.
I hope you enjoy your new position for years to come. Sometimes you need to take a chance for your passion. Good luck!
Also nice to see someone else local that is not a stranger to blogging. Most here seem so behind in the technology and online world.