For as long I've owned my in-line skates, around ten years I think, I've never fallen. While not a great skater or anything...no trick riding here...I could always rely on my ability to skate around the neighborhood feeling somewhat secure. And then came Spring 2006.
Earlier this week I decided to pick-up Izzy from school on my skates while I carried her Razor scooter over my shoulder. It was my first time out and my legs were a bit slow on the uptake. It felt as if I was skating with logs instead of my own legs. Despite this issue, I managed to get to the school without incident. As I pulled up to school, I nodded a hello the principal and teachers gathered outside the main door. As I was taking Izzy's scooter over my shoulder, my right skate shifted and before I could react, I was headed toward a meeting of the old keester and the pavement. Yes, right on my bottom, right in front of my daughter's principal and assorted teachers. The only thing hurt in the long run was my male ego and my formerly perfect skating record.
Life is a rough thing...for all of us in many ways. Whether it's being misunderstood, misaligned, misbegotten or just plain miserable, it happens. It's a classic American portrait to drown one's sorrows at the nearest pub and then, after falling from total grace or being visited by an angel, all becomes well in the world.
Hollywood endings, no matter how wholesome, are unreal. Drunks become drunker and eventually run the risk of wrecking their families, homes and even their lives. The so-called lucky ones litter the streets as our nation's homeless. Even they once were known less demeaning as hobos. Hobos lived a life of adventure, riding America's boxcars to unknown destinations, cooking with their hobo buddies, situated around a roaring trash can fire. Today, it would be described simply homeless men and a trash can fire (arson). Romanticism in America is dead.
But this isn't about that. This is about dreams. Dreams live and dreams die. Dreams are what keep us going day through day. Dreams are what build this country and lead to new ideas, new products, new innovations. And even though the public view of the world is much less romantic, do we still hold value in dreams? I think that the answer in some ways is obviously yes but unfortunately, in others, a solid no. For example, those in corporate America have become far too reliant on judging candidates simply by their resumes. More often than not, they make personal value judgments about candidates and reject them simply for being, in their minds, “overqualified.” Now what this really means is that they think the person in question is going to get bored in the job and leave early. I know they say that they know this from experience but really, how can you judge any one individual without ever speaking to them?
Corporate recruiters and hiring managers, I'm sure, feel like they know what they are doing and who's to blame them? They probably get hundreds of resumes, even for one position, and in that deluge they are desperate to pare things down as tightly as possible. Maybe more attention needs to paid to cover letters and less on resumes. And if you are working with a recruiter, as is often the case, their should be a chance to write a cover letter to sell yourself, rather than just relying on the resume which doesn't tell the whole story. Deserves some further thought.
There's nothing better for the soul than hiking through a snow forest, along a rocky path aside a rumbling river. Sure, there were the occasional icy spots and a few slips, but all and all it was just chilly bliss. Beautiful scenery and the humbling of the human mind by the mere power of nature. I can't quite explain it more than that but it certainly does do something for one's mind, similar to the more simple and utterly urban, labyrinth.
As for other things, the strange winter continues. It's going to be 70 degrees this Saturday. Truly bizarre. I'm beginning to worry how 'warm' our summer just might be. Global warming, George?