Where can I get me a big boat for my next press conference?

Mission accomplished. Those two words stick in my head lately, as I speak to the world from the bow of my aircraft carrier, the USS Kitchen Table. Navy SEALs, with an assist from the CIA, recently killed public enemy number one. They put a bullet through his head and dumped his body in the North Arabian Sea. A chapter in the ongoing war against terrorism ends. Many many more remain. In other national news, this once-unemployed blogger announces his full-time employment—the death of his own biggest enemy. It remains unclear what the revelers in Times Square were celebrating that night a few weeks back.

It’s been a wild and wacky ride. I lost my last full-time job on October 31, 2008. I started Jobless and Less a few weeks later and blogged my way into the hearts and minds, or at least the bowels, of a nation. Many of my loyal readers were also unemployed, or identified with the condition of unemployment. It was—and still is—a common problem; the country’s current unemployment rate hovers around 9%. I hope that I helped a few of these readers, not to find a job (though I tried that too in a few cases), but to get through another soul-sucking, mind-numbing, gut-wrenching day. Finding work is a thankless job, without the benefit of a paycheck or even a pat on the back. It’s a grind. But the occasional chuckle or smile can brighten an afternoon just a little. And I benefited more than anyone.

On a personal level, the site gave me a reason to get up and go through it all, again and again and again. It was a way of rewarding myself for enduring another day of disappointment… a cookie for the unemployed soul. What better way to overcome being ignored than to make people pay attention? The site gave me some control in a situation where I seemed to have none. It gave me an outlet to express my frustrations, big and small. And it gave me voice.

On a professional level, the site helped me become more employable. It served as a tool to teach myself new skills and refine old skills, from Search Engine Marketing to Social Media to website and project management. I grew as a marketer, and I grew as a writer. A website about being unemployed, ironically enough, made me a better employee.

Having a full-time job is a lot harder than I remember it. The days can be long. The work is often taxing, particularly as I dust off the little-used parts of my brain. But I enjoy being engaged. And my bank account enjoys receiving paychecks. And wifey enjoys having a gainfully employed husband. And the cats enjoy, well, sleeping. What did you expect? They’re cats.

I work on websites and related projects for a huge media company, also known as the man. They control TV and radio stations, not to mention web properties of all shapes and sizes. The position came out of a friendship I developed during a freelance project last year. One day I was meeting a someone for coffee. The next day I had a job. Who knows what the future will bring?

So what happens to Jobless and Less? Do I end it right here and ride off into the sunset? Do I continue to post sporadically, as the mood hits me? Do I steer the discussion off in another direction? Or do I continue to ask questions until I actually stumble upon my point? I don’t have the answer.

There’s plenty more to write about, but fewer hours to write. And I don’t own a horse, or a sunset. Maybe these are all signs that I need to keep writing. I already have the site, even if the name no longer makes sense. One mission ends, and another begins. I just need to figure out what the new mission is.

After all the buildup from the other day, everyone has no doubt been hanging out on my site, refreshing the page every five seconds, waiting for my next post. How do I know? Because I’m watching… always, thanks to Google Analytics and an abundance of free time. Think of me like Big Unemployed Brother, who, rumor has it, sleeps in his parents’ basement these days because he can no longer make rent. Big Mother likes having her boy around. Big Father wants BUB to get out of the spying business and go into sustainable energy. I also know you’re out there refreshing because this is what I do every Sunday during football season. I repeatedly refresh the box score for my fantasy football game to see if Larry Fitzgerald or LaDainian Tomlinson has another touchdown. It’s a way of life in the Internet Age. As of this moment, I’m winning, barely.

So, sorry to keep people waiting. Without further delay or digression, here is my entry for the America’s Next Great Pundit contest…

The words “jobless” and “recovery” are now inextricably linked. Because every ongoing current event requires a snappy name, economic cousins have become bedfellows. Forcing these words to coexist in Gosselin-like harmony – in print, online, over airwaves and in conversation – feels wrong.

A jobless recovery isn’t really a recovery. It’s a stock market rally, an uptick in economic activity or an improved economic indicator blown out of proportion. It’s also unemployment that numbers in the millions and a nation of employees scared for their jobs. “Recovery” suggests improvement. “Jobless” proves otherwise.

Economists first trotted out the term “jobless recovery” in the early 1990s to describe the new post-recession phenomenon of concurrent economic growth and high unemployment. Some experts blamed higher worker productivity born of increased automation. Others pointed to increased labor market slack, as workers switched jobs and industries. Whatever the cause, “jobless recovery” appeared again after this decade’s first recession, and once more earlier this year. The experts who failed to forecast the Great Recession needed a term to signal its end.

Conditions were right for “jobless recovery.” The economy was bottoming out, and everyone was scared. A pervasive need for good news – any good news – provided traction. Stories about unemployment’s slowing growth and stockbrokers turned ice cream men no longer cut it. Consumers needed something more positive to boost their confidence and open their wallets. Because without consumers, who provide 70% of our economy’s spending, actual recovery cannot occur.

But job creation remains non-existent; jobs are still disappearing. The national unemployment rate is approaching 10%. Add in underemployment and that figure is 17%. Include frustrated jobseekers (those who haven’t looked for work in a month), recently minted stay-at-home parents and new workforce arrivals who remain jobless, and that figure passes 20%. Companies, for their part, continue to cut pay and benefits rather than lay off still more employees.

This is the workforce that’s expected to spend money. But they’re not spending. Nor will they be for the foreseeable future. Just ask any retail outlet about its projections for the upcoming holiday season. Companies refilling their depleted inventories and the resulting excitement on Wall Street are driving the perceived recovery. It’s not real. And it won’t be until the public finds gainful employment and a renewed sense of security. The “jobless recovery” will continue. But only because it’s more palatable than “continuing recession.”

And this is why I should win, aside from my general, overall awesomeness…

I am a laid-off marketing professional and former freelance music writer, who has an opinion on everything. And I need a job. My current bout of unemployment is now pushing a year. In that time, I’ve improved my writing and job skills and submitted hundreds of applications. I document my unemployed life on the Jobless and Less blog (www.joblessandless.com) and keep up with the news in my now extensive free time. None of my hard work has paid off yet. Though my wallet (and my wife) tells me that needs to change. I can start right away.

Now back to your regularly scheduled life.

Entering a contest for a job… sound familiar?

A couple weeks back I clicked over to The Washington Post to read about the Redskins. This is my daily torture. The thinking is that news about the team can’t always be bad; this season has taught me that it can. My mouse missed the “Sports” pull-down menu and landed on the link for “America’s Next Great Pundit.” Clicking led me to this…

The Washington Post opinions section is asking people around the country to tell us why they deserve to publish their opinions in The Washington Post and be the next Dana Milbank or Eugene Robinson. Ten contestants will be picked from among all the entrants, and then the field will by narrowed down by rounds of challenges testing the skills a modern pundit must possess. They’ll have to write on deadline, hold their own on video, and field questions from Post readers. After each round, a panel of Post personalities and reader votes will help determine who gets another chance at a byline and who has to shut down their laptop. The ultimate winner will get the opportunity to write a 13-week column that may appear in the print and/or online editions of The Washington Post.

It’s a contest for a job, kind of like every listing on every job site, but with some publicity behind it. And I suppose most companies don’t lay out the interview process for candidates in advance and then conduct those interviews in public. Otherwise, what we have here, ladies and gentlemen, is a job listing. The contest also bears a striking resemblance to Reality TV, with more ink and less silicone and plastic. People can risk making fools of themselves to be the last person standing. Alas, there’s no Flavor Flav or Bret Michaels or Mr. and Ms. Douchebag Von Dingbat to boost our self images. But The Washington Post is definitely spreading the disease that’s taken over my cable box.

Their overall goal here is to generate excitement with the readership, some sort of connection to the public. The newspaper industry isn’t exactly minting money these days. People get their news online, and ad revenue is way down. The wall that’s separated the media and the public has come down. Citizen journalism and crowdsourcing are all the rage, so why no co-opt them? Maybe there’s a hidden talent out there, or at least some worthwhile free content. And all the chatter that this contest has generated among the digerati can’t hurt.

I’m alright with all this. Every last bit is just peachy-keen with me. I play the job search game everyday, for hours on end. It’s so much more fun than “God Of War” or “Grand Theft Auto: Vice City” or full-contact Parcheesi. I never win, as evidenced by my ongoing unemployment and blog. But I play and play and play. There’s even a home version of the game coming to a Toys R Us near you. It’s called “A Norm’s Life,” and it’s perfect for that loved one you don’t like so much and want to scar a little. Check the discount bin this holiday season, below the anatomically correct Barbies. I also play the “here’s my content, please steal it” game. Bots scrape my site all the time, and the posts show up in random places – travel and plumbing sites being the most common. Blogging is public. Leave anything out front long enough and someone will steal it. (Queens residents should change “long enough” to “for three seconds.”)

And why not me? That’s what I ask myself whenever I send off a resume. So the question applies here too. I have opinions on stuff, and can make things up on the spot. I’m media savvy, given my college radio shows, a few TV appearances and this blog. And I defy you to find someone better looking in the punditry field, Rush Limbaugh aside, of course. Go ahead, turn on CNN or Fox News. There’s no one.

I read through the official rules just to be sure. Entry requires a 400-word article on a current issue and a 100-word paragraph describing why I’m the best choice. Everything else is pretty standard – 18 or older, US resident, no purchase necessary. So the other night, writing against a deadline, I banged out my entry. The subject is the term “jobless recovery,” and why the whole idea is more ridiculous than the premise for “Gilligan’s Island.” Maybe the actual sitcom comparison got edited out of the final draft. I had a word limit. But the spirit is there. This could be my chance, after months of looking for work. As we say in the job search biz, 7456 is a charm.

A jobless recovery means no recovery for the unemployed

What, no free cookies? What kind of establishment are you running here? I may just have to take my business elsewhere.

The Great Recession is over. At least that’s what everyone keeps telling me. The S&P 500 gained 15.2% from April to June for its best quarter since the fourth quarter of 1998. Retail sales rose 2.7% in August. Existing home sales rose 7.2% in July from a year earlier, to a two-year high. Happy days are here again. Uncork the champagne, plate up the caviar and break out the credit cards. The spending party is about to resume? I’ll be at the As Seen On TV store if any employers want to talk to me. There’s a purple snuggie with my name on it, and the Dentist-in-a-Box will save me a little money.

Unfortunately, hiring doesn’t move lockstep with the economy; it historically lags three to six months behind. Some companies wait to see revenues return before bringing on additional staff. Others wait to know exactly what gaps in their depleted workforce need filling the most. National unemployment – currently 9.7% – is forecast to hit 10% by year’s end. There’s one thing I don’t remember from all those economics classes long ago. If consumer spending accounts for the bulk of all spending and consumers are unemployed or scared to spend, how exactly is the economy pulling out of the recession? Anybody care to explain that to me? Uncle Milty… Papa Kruggy… Zeidy Bernanke… anyone?

I’m not even convinced that the job market will be back in any significant way. Worker productivity rose by 6.6% in the second quarter of 2009, the biggest jump since the summer of 2003. Wages remained stagnant, as they have for years. People are doing more work for the same money, and companies are reaping the benefits. Corporate profits are expected to surge; bullish estimates see 12% growth in both 2010 and 2011. That jump in productivity can be viewed as a loss of jobs. Why hire or re-hire someone to perform a task that’s already getting done? Just turn up the heat on the minions. Future innovation may lead to new types of jobs, though no one can say exactly what those jobs will be and to what extent they’ll offset recession job losses.

While things get back to normal (whatever normal will be), I have to deal with the likelihood that my unemployment will continue for some time. There are a few more jobs out there, but companies still receive hundreds of resumes for each position; the ratio of unemployed to openings is 6:1. They interview the best of the best which, given that I haven’t had an interview in a couple months, doesn’t seem to include me. I beg (as well as plead, beseech, entreat and supplicate) to differ, of course. I think I would be an invaluable employee for any company that hired me. So to date, I haven’t been willing to settle for less than I deserve. My previous salary was already on the low end for MBAs with work experience. Compromising seemed unnecessary.

That is about to change. The clock on my unemployment insurance is running down, and the end-of-the-year deadline looms large. This week I began actively seeking jobs that would be a step down. I don’t mean a big, digging in trashcans for recyclables-kind of step. The illegal aliens that roam the Jackson Heights streets with shopping carts collecting cans have that lucrative business locked up. This is a smaller step. I’m now applying for positions beneath my pay grade and skill level, even entry-level if the company is in a strong growth field. I’d be hard-pressed to turn down an offer – any offer – in online marketing, for example. The MBA will likely come off of my resume, at least one version of it. I’ve also started looking for work outside of marketing. Proofreading – one of my fallback skills – is one option. Sales is another, though I’d really prefer it not to be. We’ll see what kind of results I get in the next few weeks. As the time ticks away, I will widen my scope. That’s how desperation works.

I hate babies, and I’m a terrible person. At least that’s how I felt Friday evening on a sidewalk in midtown, when I turned down a charity collecting money for babies. The conversation didn’t progress far enough to reveal what about babies needed funding. They could have been a charity that gives tiny Rolexes and blinged-out strollers to babies of rap stars and Wall St. tycoons. It didn’t matter. I still felt less human.

Friday was a rough day of unemployment. So around dinner time, on my return from a meeting, I took a little detour through Bryant Park. The park sits between 42nd and 40th St. in Manhattan and backs up on the picturesque Humanities and Social Sciences Library. You’ve probably seen the building in calendars and postcards, if not in person. The park is beautiful, with trees and chairs and places to buy coffee. And I kill time there whenever I can. The weather was stunning – a taste of Spring – and people were out enjoying it. I grabbed a small table and took a break from life to watch it.

A young woman approached me on my way to the subway. I had seen her 20 yards down the sidewalk. With a clipboard and some kind of standard-issue polo shirt bearing a corporate logo, she was obviously asking questions or collecting donations. New Yorkers have a keen radar for anyone who might bother us. We may look like we don’t see you, but we’ve already consciously decided to avoid you. There was enough traffic ahead to let me slip by pretty easily. But then she caught my eye and mouthed the words, “yes, you,” before I could look away. I had the music on and was walking with a purpose, but she caught me. I had to stop.

As a general rule I don’t give out money in public, while employed or unemployed, not even to really heartbreaking baby charities. Maybe I’d donate to an actual baby, should the opportunity present itself. And if he asked nicely. But short of that and the rare street musician, my money stays in my pocket. I once tallied the cost to give a dollar to every person who asked me for money in a day. The total exceeded my daily take-home pay at the time. I doubled my resolve to horde the vast riches I drain from corporate troughs and, soon enough, the unemployment system. I do however give to certain worthy causes that choose to accost me via radio and internet, rather than in public.

She had a bright, pretty smile, probably a bare minimum for donation gathering during a recession in New York at rush hour. I took off my headphones, and she began her spiel… something about babies. She may have actually asked, “do you like babies?” The proper answer to this question is obviously “no,” because no one likes babies. I stopped her before she got much further and said that I am unemployed. Whereas a savvy salesman might explain that $5/month on a credit card isn’t really that much to save babies, she just stopped, wished me good luck and let me go. I appreciated that.

All the way home, I thought about the brief encounter. Why it stuck with me so long isn’t entirely clear. (Maybe unemployment has wrecked my brain and made me more stupider.) I don’t hand out money on the street, though technically I could have. There was money in my pocket, and on this occasion I wanted to give. At least I wanted to be able to give. I felt like less of a person for relying on my unemployment to get me out. There are people out there way worse off than I am, for sure. But my situation could deteriorate shortly too. Giving just didn’t feel right. And that’s a real shame.

It’s the slacking hour once again – that time of day when you should be doing something productive but you’re not, and you don’t care. Maybe you’ve been hard at work – head buried in memos and Excel spreadsheets – and need a break. Maybe the kids are down for the count and you’re aimlessly tooling around online. Whatever the reason, whatever the cause, don’t let the slacking last too long. Somebody might be watching. You could end up like me – unemployed (and possibly a little sick in the head). 

Unemployment isn’t contagious… yet. But 2009 is looking like the year when all that changes…

Let’s sum this up, because depressing news goes down so much easier in scrumptious, bite-size morsels of goodness. “Forecasters” and “experts” expect the economy to shrink by 1.9% in 2009 and unemployment to hit 9% this year, 10% in 2010 and remain elevated through 2011. “Norm” – now a shell of his employed self – expects his bank account to empty out and his joblessness to last until the end of time, possibly longer. The reason for the dim outlook and downward-spiraling epidemic…

Vanishing jobs, shrinking nest eggs, rising foreclosures and tanking home values have forced American consumers to cut back, which in turn has caused businesses to lay off workers and slash costs in other ways, feeding a vicious downward cycle for the economy.

So it seems that even with time and government handouts, things will get uglier, and then remain that way. Great! Outstanding! F***ING AWESOME! It’s like I’m stricken with a disease that I did everything within my power to avoid. Unemployment is the new Dengue Fever. A side-by-side comparison reveals that it might even be worse…

• The WHO (World Health Organization) believes that 2.5 billion people are at risk of contracting the Dengue Fever. The WTF arm of Jobless and Less has consulted Wikipedia to determine that at least 2.5 billion people worldwide are of working age; all of them are either unemployed or run the risk of being unemployed in a tanking world economy.
• Dengue Fever is spread by mosquitos. Unemployment is spread by rats and other vermin.
• Both Dengue Fever and Unemployment are just as prevalent in urban districts as in rural areas.
• Symptoms of Dengue Fever include severe headache, muscle and joint pain, fever and rash. Sudden-onset Unemployment may lead to stress-related headache and fever, and muscle and joint pain from frantically clicking through online job listings.
• Dengue Fever is treated with timely supportive therapy that tackles shock due to haemoconcentration and bleeding. Unemployment is treated with government stimulus designed to shock the economy back to life before it hemorrhages its middle class into bankruptcy.

The only real difference seems to be the rash I’d get from Dengue Fever. At this point, I’d endure a rash for a paycheck. And the longer I’m unemployed and the more bad news I read, the better that rash seems. Bring it on.

No, Chuck, it's not a white pony in a blizzard. I haven't started yet.

My second run-in with temping came after my first layoff. I was toiling in obscurity, waiting to see what grandiose opportunity would present itself next. The internet bubble had just popped, and those who chased fast lives and huge windfalls were slinking back to the relative security of big corporations everywhere. The collective grovelling was almost audible. Unemployment paid my bills while I sent out resumes and freelanced as a writer. But panic about money soon set in (really impatience and stupidity), and I went back to temping.

My temping adventures began with a day of meetings at various agencies. The plan was to maximize my chances, with multiple agencies finding me work. At each meeting I took tests in typing and various Microsoft Office applications, even ones I didn’t know. All MS applications are organized similarly, and these tests only register an answer when you release the mouse button. So I simply scrolled through menu options until I found something that looked right. It usually was. With my test scores in hand, an agency rep interviewed me, basically to confirm that I could speak in complete sentences without drooling. I passed that test too, I think.

My first assignment was at an organization for blind people, updating a survey database. Another guy and I sat in a poorly lit, windowless room entering data and listening to George Bush steal the presidency on painfully slow computers. Every five minutes the stream buffered, cutting out a key piece of the story. Now and again a blind person would wander in and use a computer loaded with special software that vocalized every word the user moused over. What was very interesting for about 30 seconds became really distracting. Ever had a friend spit random numbers at you while you try to count? It’s that kind of annoying, except you can’t just hit a blind stranger in the chest and tell them to shut up. The whole experience was really depressing. A year and a half after moving to New York, I was doing data entry, not writing about music or running the A&R department at a cool indie label. My hopes were slipping away with Al Gore‘s.

2000 drifted into 2001, and I landed some phone-answering gigs and a longer-term office worker stint at a psychiatric clinic. The craziest people there weren’t the patients. The clinic assistants and other assorted peons were embroiled in a power struggle. I managed to steer clear initially, filing and collating as instructed, and studying for the GMATs on breaks. The hard work was soon “rewarded” with a new assignment – filling in for the head guy’s assistant while she was on vacation. As it turned out, my responsibilities included ordering this guy’s salad everyday and putting on the dressing before serving it for him. (Insert salad-tossing reference here, because that’s about how degrading it felt.) My “promotion” raised the ire of certain jealous staffers, apparently including whoever dealt with the temp agency. I got word the next Monday morning on my way out the door that my assignment had been discontinued. “They no longer required my services.”

My initial assessment of temping after the hotel headquaters stint was that it kind of sucks. But at least I could use it to my own ends. My revised assessment after this plum clinic assignment was that it sucks major ass. And because I’d forsaken unemployment insurance for temp work, I was stuck. I couldn’t go back on the dole. Being required to temp is much worse than having the choice to temp.

Go see Clint kick ass, just not on a weekday afternoon

[Beck song plays in cafe, barely audible over instrumental headphone music]

[Pots rattle in kitchen]

[Chatter of customer placing an order]

One of the luxuries of unemployment is my schedule. I can basically do whatever I want whenever I want. So if I’m not feeling the gym in the morning – when the aerobics classes blare Latin House and people who shouldn’t be wearing tights bend over a lot – I go in the afternoon. Or I tell myself that my arms feel a little sore and skip it altogether. Then I get to work, but not before a quick flex and preen in the full-length mirror. (Yes, those guns are real, but don’t be scared.)

[Man at next table taps incessantly]

[Norm sighs audibly]

My wife, to her credit, keeps urging me to do something fun. Feeling like I’d made some strides these last couple of weeks, I finally gave in. In almost three months of unemployment, this would be my first real, honest-to-God slacking. I went to a 2:00 showing of Gran Torino (no fluff in my slacking, just morals, heavy themes and death). And it felt weird, like I was doing something wrong, like I should be doing something more important (sending out resume number 18,437, for example).

[Faint keyboard clicking heard between headphone songs]

[Nondescript singer-songwriter whines over an acoustic guitar]

[Man at next table taps to beat]

There’s something uniquely depressing about a movie theater on a weekday afternoon. All these movies playing, but nobody watching. The few people who did show up, seemed to come more out of boredom than interest. The lady in line before me was looking for a movie with subtitles, any movie; she didn’t care what she saw.

[Man at next table takes cell phone call; loud prattle ensues]

Gran Torino played in one of the big auditoriums with stadium seating. I arrived during previews and – wouldn’t you know it – got a seat halfway up the aisle and dead center. The whole row was mine until that same old lady and her adult son sat down. An audience of seven total, and everyone besides the mother and son came alone. Sure, empty theaters are more comfortable, but audience vibe is important to the movie-going experience. And the only vibe there was loneliness.

[Man at next table continues loud cell phone conversation while smelling really bad]

The other downside of weekday matinees is subtitles. I can hear perfectly fine, but I found myself reading the dialogue and descriptions of various sounds. This is not a knock on the movie; it was actually quite moving and thought-provoking. My eyes were just drawn to the words because they were there. While Clint Eastwood was being a badass, I was reading about Clint Eastwood being a badass. Some of the effect was lost.

[Bathroom door squeaks as it opens and shuts]

[Toilet flushes in background]

[Volume of man's cellphone conversation gets louder as he returns]

Gran Torino is definitely worth seeing, even if you’re lukewarm on Clint Eastwood. The man knows how to direct a movie, and act in one for that matter. And with one of the Oscar movies under my belt, I can fantasize about all the post-award water cooler conversations I’ll miss. The other movies will have to wait for a weekend when my wife and I are both free, or video. But the next time I feel the urge to slack, I’ll try a different activity. There’s a bar around the corner frequented by grizzled drinkers twice my age. A liquor-fueled afternoon in their company could be just the kind of break to lift my spirits.

[Sound of scuffle]

[Sound of man's cellphone smashing against wall]

[Patrons cheer]

If only it were as warm as this looks.

Unemployment makes staying home easy. Frigid temperatures make it even easier. So yesterday afternoon, around 5:30, I faced the biggest decision of my day. Do I bundle up and brave the cold for a subway ride to the West Side (an hour’s trip door to door), or do I play a DVD from Netflix (Family Guy, Season 6, Disc 3, with all the bonus features)? Sounds like a no-brainer… go with the fat guy, talking dog and occasionally diabolical baby. I opted for hypothermia and the MTA, which turned out to be the right choice.

Fordham University – my business school alma mater – held a panel discussion entitled “Layoff Survival Guide.” It was all about proper techniques for panhandling. Topics included…

• Street corner as office – coping with a change of environment.
• Starbucks or Dunkin’ Donuts – what coffee cup puts people in the giving mood and why.
• Dress for success – pathetic-looking clothing need not sacrifice warmth or comfort.
• Failed banker or bank failure – optimize your story to maximize your earnings.

Sorry, I got sidetracked. Too much Family Guy makes me think in asides.

The panel discussion was all about how to deal with a layoff. You may be wondering why I wasn’t on the panel, given my league-leading layoff tally and hard-earned expertise. I wondered the same thing. But the invited panelists turned out to know a thing or two themselves. They offered more advice than “think about going back to school or an online university.” I was content to listen and learn from the third row.

The panel consisted of Merrill Lynch financial advisers Anthony Russo and Kim Potvin, employment attorney Andy Karamouzis and career coach Alan Cohen. Anthony started it off with his personal story quickly followed by a few very important (if obvious) tips. The most important (and most obvious) is to examine your budget and expenses. Any laid-off business school grad should think of and take care of this in the first week of unemployment. But any financial adviser worth his spreadsheets would be remiss if he didn’t lead with this tip. He also emphasized the need to rollover and reallocate 401Ks. People accumulate multiple accounts as they go from job to job, and let the market skew their investments what direction they will. While organizing your financial house is a convenient time to consolidate and recalibrate. This tip seemed a little self-serving (so you’re reinvesting… we can help), though also logical and relevant. Retirement accounts are assets and should be considered in any financial self-examination.

Kim summed up her story and continued the retirement discussion before yielding the floor to Andy the employment lawyer. His first point was something I’ve harped on in this blog – file for unemployment insurance. Again, this is Unemployment 101-type stuff, but very important. Don’t leave free money on the table. Swallow any lingering pride; overcome the creeping laziness. I was surprised to learn that some audience members thought the government tries to trick people out of unemployment. Let’s dispel this notion right now. Filing for unemployment is quick, easy and straightforward in most cases. Basically any laid-off worker can do it. No one is out to deprive you, barring the occasional vindictive former company who won’t validate a claim. And the big, bad government doesn’t have it in for you as an individual. You, personally, are not that important.

Alan the career coach finished things up, which made perfect sense given the trajectory of a layoff. Whereas the first three speakers focused on getting your jobless ducks in a row, he looked ahead to bigger, better ponds. His outlook was upbeat, and his advice sage. Get over the perceived stigma of being laid off; it probably wasn’t your fault. And get beyond the notion that a job defines a person; this is a narrow view of an individual. Then examine what was appealing about previous jobs and use that as a lens to focus your energy in the right direction. The trick, as he put it, is not to believe a company is right for you just because you need a job. This resonated with me. As a job search drags on, the group of “right” companies and industries always seems to grow. Desperation leads to bad decisions. Of course, desperation is sometimes justified.

Audience members interrupted each of the speakers with questions, which gave them avenues for expanding and directing the conversation. But in business school, and in life, I suppose, the alpha, ME ME ME types tend to dominate. And mostly they just want to talk about themselves. One woman seemed to have three different jobs yet was contemplating giving them all up to collect unemployment (WTF?). She asked questions so specific to her own situation that no one could understand let alone answer them. I’m not sure she even understood. Some people had more insightful comments and questions that surfaced information I didn’t know. These were the highlights for me…

• Severance packages are not required by law, at least in New York state. Most employment agreements are entered into by an employer and an employee at will. Either party can terminate the relationship at any time. Severances are a gesture of goodwill and come with a waiver that releases the company from any future damages.
• Severances are always negotiable. With a strong case and a light touch, they can be improved. The worst a company can do is say no, and then beat you with the nearest blunt object – likely a stapler, so watch out for those Swinglines.
• Don’t take what’s not yours. What’s done in a work capacity belongs to the company. This includes proprietary information and contacts.
• If laid off, get a letter from that employer stating the reason for your departure (e.g. money issues, corporate downsizing, etc.). It could make securing a new job easier.
• Volunteering for a charity can expand your network and further your job search. It may also give you a nice warm and fuzzy feeling.

Sitting in a room with other unemployed people was just as important as learning more about unemployment. It was therapeutic, a good reminder that many people are going through the same things. My job search isn’t any easier, and my bills aren’t any more paid. But I do feel better about myself for making the effort. And I’m grateful to Fordham and the panelists for their efforts, on a night when most people probably just wanted to go home and get out of the cold.

Mmm, bread, and hats.

Unemployment figures don’t accurately measure the job market. What’s reported these days omits the underemployed and those who have stopped looking. But those people were included in unemployment figures from The Great Depression…

Great Depression jobs parallel may not be far flung

Unemployment today vs. unemployment in the 1930s isn’t an apples-to-apples comparison. By today’s standards, current unemployment is at 6.7%, according to the article. And some estimates expect it to reach 10%. By Great Depression-era standards, current unemployment would be 16%, with worst-case scenarios eventually pushing it past 25%. To put this in perspective, unemployment during The Great Depression – using those standards – was also 25%.

These are very different times. Then, everyone wore a hat all the time. Today, only some people wear a hat, even when it’s 20 degrees outside. Then, people farmed and manufactured. Today, people sit in cubes and look at computer screens, wishing they were outside or at least making something useful. Like then, we still have greedy financial criminals – I mean CEOs – who wreak havoc on everyone’s lives in pursuit of a dollar. But comparing the current recession to The Great Depression is a little premature. It’s only done because this is the worst financial crisis since that one, and the media needs an easy hook with built-in images and snazzy titles. Only time can tell if this recession is that bad.

Everyone knows that The Great Depression was as advertised. I wasn’t even alive then, but I’m still feeling its effects. All of my grandparents were born during or soon after the first World War, which means they grew up and came of age during the worst market of the modern era. (The income of the average American family decreased by 40% between 1929 and 1932.) And while they were fortunate to go to college and find jobs, the economic climate colored their perceptions, altered their values and, most importantly for me, influenced their spending habits. My victimization is best expressed as a word problem…

A fair-skinned, doe-eyed child who works really hard at school receives cash gifts from each of his two sets of grandparents on his birthday and Christmas. The amount is $25 per occasion until he becomes a teenager. The clean-cut, polite teenager who still works really hard at school and wants to go to a good college and become an upstanding member of the community receives a raise. The amount becomes $50 per occasion until he graduates college at age 22. Given that grandparents who did not go through The Great Depression spend 50% more on gifts, how much did The Great Depression cost this deserving young man?

[MATH ALERT]

Basics:

• 2 sets of grandparents
• 12 birthdays and 13 Christmases at $25 each
• 10 birthdays and 9 Christmases at $50 each
• Total should be 50% more

Answer:

1. 25*(12+13)=$625
2. 50*(10+9)=$950
3. 2*(625+950)=$3150
4. 3150*1.5=$4725
5. 4725-3150=$1575

[END MATH ALERT]

The Great Depression has cost our hero $1575, plus interest, and I’d like to have it right now please. (There are bills to pay, you understand.) This recession may be more expensive to me overall, but at least I get to experience it firsthand, in all its glory. The Great Depression cost a lot of people a lot of money, and it’s still affecting people today. The only way to make a fair comparison is to ask my future grandchildren on their college graduation days if they feel gypped. If they say yes, we’ll know. But until then, The Great Depression wins the battle of recessions going away.