What I Learned from Transformers 3

I think that Transformers 3 illustrated the point most clearly for me in all of its CGI glory. I know, this above sequence of words should never actually be written or said in any utterable language. Not sure what an ‘un-utterable’ language would sound or look like. Just another thing to add to my ‘must-Wiki’ list of things I want to know enough about to impress others with random trivia, but not so much that people feel they could have an actual conversation with me about. For example, I’ve always wanted to know how a black hole works. But I refuse to discuss the temporal ramifications of passing through an Einstein-Rosen bridge (Notice insertion of random name-drop for academic impressiveness.). Anyway, back to the frustrating life-lessons learned by Michael Bay’s third installment of “Your Childhood Means Nothing to Me and My Insatiable Lust for Giant Fireballs,” also known as TRANSFORMERS!!!! I add the exclamation marks and capital letters throughout because I’m quite certain that Mike screams out the name when he talks about it. He may also try to say it like James Earl Jones or Mufasa, but that’s neither here nor there.

What I’m really trying to talk about here is finding a job. For those of you who subjected your senses to Mr. Bay’s embarrassing riches of wasted Hollywood talent, you will have noticed that Sam’s (Shia LeBouf) plight at the start of the movie is his inability to find work. How he manages to land a British diplomat that also looks like a Victoria Secret model (because she actually is) was never fully explained. One would think that if he could somehow bridge the enormous beauty, brains, and height gap between them, he would also have used these skills to convince an HR rep at Bank of America that he deserves a chance as a teller or in the mailroom. Alas, Hollywood blockbusters have once again found a way to relate with Americans, and it seems to be saying that none of us have a job.

Me personally, I have a job, but not much of one. How has the economic and social condition in our country deteriorated so quickly that even having a graduate degree does not qualify you to be a receptionist? I have literally applied to a dozen secretary positions in Fort Worth, and not a single one has called me back. I wish I could blame short-sighted employers or even myself (at least that would be an answer). But the more I talk to people my own age, the more I hear over-and-over again that having a college degree and a few years of work experience just isn’t enough these days. I mean, I spent a year in CHINA teaching English and learning another language that over a sixth of the planet speaks, and no one seems to find that the least bit attractive.

This is the example that KILLS me. Megan and I were in Costco, mostly because Megan loves Costo and I felt the urge to buy fifteen tons of JIF Creamy peanut butter and a three-story house to eat it in (I think they sells those now, too). Anyway, we’re pulling up to the counter with the six-bed, four-bath fixer and my tub of PB when Megan and I start talking about my job search. Her unrelenting love for Costco inspires her to suggest I work here, not a bad proposition I respond. So, as we’re getting rung-up she asks the cashier, a guy in his early thirties, if he likes working at Costco. “Yeah,” he answers, “I actually quit my teaching job to work here full time.” I think my eyes almost shot out of their sockets. My bulging retinas must have caught his attention, because he went on to justify this seemingly backwards change in profession. “As a cashier you can make as much as $22 an hour, and on Sundays I get time-and-a-half. Plus, their benefits are great, and now that I’ve been with them for five years they just give me a $6000 bonus every year.” Hard to argue with that monetary logic.

Has becoming a teacher really been pushed into near extinction by our lack of respect and compensation for this profession? Or has consuming industrial size containers of Cheetos become our national past time, and thus more profitable than shaping the young minds future leaders of this wonderful nation? I regretfully assume a little of both is at play. More to come…

Pass It On

With all of the ugliness that seems to seep through the radio, television, and computer these days, it is quite refreshing and actually rather unexpected to experience genuine generosity from others. As many of you already know, Megan and I just moved into a new apartment. "New" is a relative word in this case. Although we got a steal on this two bed, two bath only 20 minutes from Megan's school, we definitely got what we paid for. So, $560 a month may get you 1000 sq. feet in Fort Worth, but it won't get you watered or trimmed grounds, rust-free railings and stairs, a dry guest bathroom, a working kitchen fan, door knobs that are bolted to the closet door, a microwave, an A/C that blows cold air, or an apartment that doesn't smell funny.
Like I said, you get what you pay for. However, despite the many imperfections, its already feeling quite warm and cozy (although that may have something to do with the 110 degree heat....), and no problem is too large for some super glue, a fan, a little Frebreeze, a couple of work orders, and some tunnel vision before walking in the door.
So, back to the kindness of others. Some of you may not believe this, because I certainly didn't and I was there. While looking for a mattress, Megan came a across a free King that someone was offering on Craigslist. "Impossible," I thought. There must be a catch. So when I made the 90 minute drive to Terrell, Texas. After 12 hours on the job I arrived expecting to be disappointed. Rats, roaches, bed bugs, blood and urine stains? Something must be wrong with this thing, otherwise, why would someone just give it away?
Megan had emailed the owners several times and they seemed like alright people. But, I was ready to scream bloody murder should our nighttime rendezvous in the Walmart parking lot turn into a terrifying story of human trafficking. However, to y delight and relief, Scott and Dana were two of the friendliest Texans you will ever meet. And the grime covered, dump mattress I expected to find turned out to be as amazingly stain free as its previous owners. Scott even helped this writer with his bunny-ear knots and basically tied the whole thing to my roof as I pulled some rope around and held stuff. Wishing I had bee a boy-scout. That's ok, I can kick a little ball REALLY far. Useful skill, that is.
I drove our soft, yet firm, prize back to Fort Worth, refusing to drive a mile above the speed limit for the first time in my life. Fifty feels like ludicrous speed when your windows are down and a king size mattress is flapping on your roof like giant Pterodactyl wings.
As if the day were not filled with enough surprises, while we were unloading our booty, our neighbors were walking/pooping their dogs. The mother-daughter pair knew we were moving out soon and asked if we could use a sofa. "Um....yeah." Daughter lets me into their place and reveals two, spotless leather coaches. "We were going to sell them on Craigslist for $500," she says. Ouch...good, but way above our budget of 10 bucks..."But if you can't afford that, we'll just give them to you." What?! I muster a "Sure, that would be awesome." Followed by several by several thank-you's. I nearly kow-towed at her feet stepping out the door.
That day reaffirmed my faith in humanity. I know it's a corny sentiment, often shared by people who watch someone sacrifice their life or limb for others. but, acts of selfless kindness and generosity, like the two I witnessed/experienced on the same day, show me that despite the ugliness we may often feel rules this wonderful world, people are the force with the ability to change lives.