Bah Humbug!

I really wasn't going to do this, but this blog is my outlet, and I feel the need to vent. When you receive the diagnosis of cancer, I'm sure that it comes as a shock and a blow at any time of the year. But, to get it in the middle of the holiday season when everyone is so damned happy and cheerful just either pisses you off or makes you more jaded about the whole issue.

As a young lad, I loved this time of year. I loved the candlelight service at church. I loved opening the one present (just one!) on Christmas Eve. I loved visiting Mom-Mom on Christmas Eve at the High Rise. I loved my cousins Johnny and Mike coming over to see who got what. I just loved nearly every aspect of Christmas and the season.

I guess as you get older and more jaded, things like Christmas become more about rushing around and trying to find a good gift, or you just lose all that and turn into a bitter hermit cursing at all the Salvation Army bell ringers outside the department stores. I think Christmas starts to lose some of its magic as you grow more weary from this world.

So, with Christmas losing the magic already, Marion is diagnosed with cancer the Monday after Thanksgiving. Looking forward into the next month at that time was very difficult. All those festive songs. All those happy people. All those kids too young to know any better that life will wear down on them...

I can listen to most Christmas songs. Songs about a deformed reindeer or a snowman or silver bells don't really bother me. But, one song, as hideous and as tedious as it is, disturbs me to the point of tears because of its message. "All I Want for Christmas is You" by Mariah Carey just makes me so sad. You may think to yourself, why. And to answer your question, I'm not too sure. Maybe I feel the loss of something that we'll never have again. Maybe it's because I really dislike Mariah's cat like screeching. Whatever the reason, the songs bothers me.

I went shopping alone for presents this year, and that bothered me too. Every Christmas since we've lived together (14 years), we went together and picked out presents for one another and family. To go alone was tremendously hard to do. A well meaning cashier commented on a sweater I bought for Marion by asking if it was for "my lady". I choked up a bit, and mumbled an affirmative. She saw I was kind of upset and said things will work out, whatever it may be. How do you even acknowledge that? I just muttered a thanks and went my way.

For some reason I was also obsessed with getting the TY Beanie Babies Peanuts characters, especially Woodstock (Marion's favorite). I went to Five Below where they were advertised and told they didn't have any. Again, I almost broke down. I hope I hid it better. I did finally track those down, by the way.

But, my point is around this time of year people are just so cheerful, and they don't want to be brought down with some serious issues like cancer and sickness or what have you. People want to eat their fruit cake, buy their presents, and wish you well. I know everyone is just trying to be good intentioned, but it just hurts to know what I do, and to be powerless against this disease. I know Marion has a really good chance, but I still just wish it was all a nightmare (a very lucid one) that I could wake from; I'd hug her and hold her tight and tell her everything was just a terrible dream. That's my Christmas wish, but I realize that it's just not the way things are.

15 years...hoping for 15 more.

Today, December 23rd, 2010, Marion and I have been together for 15 years. We have been together through good times and bad. We have weathered many storms, and are facing a true storm right now. I said previously that Marion being diagnosed with cancer was a tremendously sour blow to us, and to the future. Life changed forever on the day Marion was diagnosed for the both of us. Now, we face this trek into the unknown together.

Despite outward appearances, Marion is pretty insecure (at least privately). I learned earlier this week that one of her fears after being diagnosed was that I would leave her. While slightly insulted that she would feel I was so trivial and cold, I understand the underlining fear that was at work there. Marion has been mistreated throughout her life. Whether it was cold parents, abusive relationships, or any number of terrible, truly terrible things that have happened to her in her life. So, I could understand how she must feel...when the going gets tough, people in her life had a way of just leaving her to deal with her issues.

All I can say about Marion is that no one has loved, supported, and stood by me like she has. She has traveled across this country on a whim and a dream just for me. She worked her ass off to provide for us when I went to college. She cooked, cleaned, and made sure I had whatever I wanted because she wanted to make me happy. The thing is she never quite understood that what made me happy was just being with her.

When we first moved in with one another, we would just lie together and talk. If it's one thing Marion can do, that's talk about damn near any topic whether she has any training in it or not. But, that kind of fascinates me in a way because I only talk when I "know" something. Marion isn't too concerned with minor details...if she doesn't know enough about something, she'll improvise. It's kind of impressive and annoying all at the same time.

Regardless, throughout our time together, I have never doubted her love for me. I gave her reasons to give up on what we had, but she has always without question believed and trusted in me simply because she loves me. That's a pretty powerful statement, but in Marion's case it is true beyond a shadow of a doubt. While others have passed me by, Marion has been the one constant in my life for these past 15 years. It may sound cliche to say she completes me or she is my life, but in this case, it's not. We have sheltered each other from this world, and she is truly my home.

Which is why this diagnosis of cancer scares me to death. I try and say to myself that this will all work out, and she'll get better. But, it's the uncertainty that troubles me at this point. I realize we're so close to getting some answers after about three months of trying to get something done. I'm happy that her mammogram came back normal. But, I dread finding out the stage of this cancer. I dread hearing the prognosis as much as I yearn to find out. I'm angry at the first ER doctor who obviously saw a tumor and said NOTHING to us, but referred us to the clinic. I'm angry that the clinic did one biopsy and told us everything was okay, only to admit their mistake and get another sample which came back positive. I'm angry there are incompetent people in charge of people's health. Most of all, I'm angry at a God that could allow all of this to happen while Marion's future is no more certain than it was our first trip to the ER in October.

I am happy that Marion is now (finally) on a path to treatment and quality care with the Cooper Cancer Institute. I am happy my Dad has been by our side for this entire ordeal. I am happy that Marion isn't doing all that bad (yet?). I am happy Marion has gotten increasingly better since the 8th when honestly I almost lost her from blood loss.

But, I fear an uncertain future that I know will be trying to say the least. I fear losing her. We had a talk earlier this week where I basically told her that I would be by her side regardless of any prognosis. I told her she had to stay strong and fight whatever the prognosis. I let her know the 5 year survival rates of the various stages of cervical cancer. And, I let her know that we could beat those numbers. I believe all of that because I believe in Marion and me, that's reality. As the tears rolled slowly down her cheeks, I knew the pain she must be in...of lost dreams, of lost hopes...but, I told her that we can do this...together. And, we will.

So, on our 15th Anniversary, we'll be going to the Women's Care at Cooper University Hospital. While I dread finding out the extent of her condition, I know we both must know. We have to know what we're fighting so we can kick its ass...'cause that's what we do.

Together.

KLVX, Las Vegas PBS

If there is one job that I still miss to this day, and one job that I actually learned and grew with, it was KLVX Channel 10 in Las Vegas, Nevada.

I'm sorry to disappoint, but this will not be a blog about who I hated, what I hated, or why I hated it. Rather, this will be a nostalgic look at a job I never should have left, and one I should have stayed with. KLVX-10 was a PBS station serving most of Southern Nevada. It was the station that covered Harry Reid's debates in 2004 while I was there. It was an experience that I wanted for so long, yet I let it slip away.

Working there was the most relaxed environment I have ever been in. All the directors were so knowledgeable and helpful (there was a team of four or so). The Producer, Tom, was by far the best boss I have ever had. The Program Director was a funny guy that I could impersonate quite well, Mitch. During my time there, I worked sound, camera, floor directing, and grip work. I learned more in my too short time there than in the three years of schooling I had.

I worked part time through the production department. Most days I worked the mornings doing a distance education program of Nutrition with this pumped up steroid guy. He was a nice guy too, but working on the program wasn't too challenging because it was a stationary shoot (meaning the camera never moved, like a Kevin Smith movie). But, before the show, the prep work, was where you would learn more. Doing mic checks, getting the lighting right, making sure the chromo keys were set up properly, were all important aspects to getting this simplistic show taped.

Every week, I also worked on "Inside Education" with Ray Willis. Ray was a great guy and we kind of bonded together during my time there. He liked my work, and my Mitch impersonation. He taught me a lot about being an on air talent, and how talent works seamlessly with the Production team. Part of working on "Inside Education" was going out on location to get a variety of shoots. Mostly, we'd visit schools of the Clark County School district, but sometimes we'd get lucky and get to go to the "House of Blues" or something like that.

Also, every week, I'd work on our live program, "Nevada Week in Review". Man, I loved working on that show. It was fast paced and exciting to be part of a live broadcast. It was also exciting being part of a politics forum. I got to know a few of the panel a bit. But, working on the show was always a treat.

I also miss working with Steve. He was like the man at arms there. He did all the lighting, all the mic work, most of the soundboard, and he was generally just an all around great guy who may have loved The Butterfly Effect just a bit too much.

My time there was short lived because Marion was jumped by some piece of gutter trash when she was walking to work one night. I still don't get all of why that happened, or any of the specifics of the situation, but I felt so alone when I was sitting in the ER. Granted, I knew her injuries weren't life threatening, but she and I were scared beyond belief. It was when reacting to this fear that I feel I made a grave error. I decided to move back to New Jersey and leave Vegas behind. It was an error because there were so many good opportunities for me out there, and I do miss the place. I miss waking up and seeing mountains. I miss how alive the place was. I miss the Strip. I miss damn near everything about Las Vegas.

It was a mistake to come back to New Jersey just as things were getting started for me. Sure, there were roadblocks and I made mistakes before Marion's attack, but the way we reacted to the fear (which is natural in a situation like that) was not the proper way for us to react. It led us down the current path we are on now, which as I've said has been the most trying, sad, and depressing time in my life. I do regret coming back to New Jersey, and if I can ever find the means to leave again, I will as soon as possible. New Jersey is just such a depressing place no matter where you are in the state (maybe Cape May isn't).

If you don't know where you're going, any road will take you there.

I'm taking a break from my retrospective about my employment history for the time being. Oh, I'll probably write something tomorrow or so.

I've been pretty melancholy this holiday season due to Marion's condition, Ron being in the hospital, and still missing Mom during another Christmas season. My Mom loved Christmas and decorating for Christmas. I was talking with my Dad about it earlier this month. My Mom was a gifted artisan in a way. She made these drum ornaments for the tree one year. She must have made at least 300 if not more. I could only imagine the detail that went into crafting each one. I can only imagine the sense of accomplishment she must have had when she finished and had all those little drums on her tree.

I think I wrote previously that I've been in a funk since returning to New Jersey from Las Vegas back in early 2005. I haven't written (besides this blog and innocuous facebook postings) since my screenplay "Minimum Wage". I really think by the time I got to that particular screenplay, my writing for the film medium had developed quite nicely. Dialogue was coming more naturally. I was actually developing good plots, and I had unique ideas (as much as film can be unique). I often try to outline a new idea or two, but always seem to talk myself out of it. The last serious idea I had was writing a screenplay based on my Dad's bedtime serial stories, "Gitchy Gatchy Goomie". I think it would be an original story. Heck, any story about a kid that's dropped off on a deserted island to "toughen him up" is pretty original in my estimation.

Yet, I am faced with self doubt that it wouldn't lead anywhere when I know full well there's a chance that it could lead somewhere, but maybe I would rather live in a world of "ifs" and dream that I could have been the next Ethan Coen if I just sent my script away. Besides "Minimum Wage" I wrote two other screenplays I felt were pretty decent. "A.C.E. Atlantic City Expressway" and "Among Thieves". But, when I look at the files on my hard drive, and I read them, I just think they aren't good enough and no one would even find them at all appealing.

I live in a world of self doubt, I suppose. I'm crippled by it, and I just grow older by my inaction.

Regardless of my writing aspirations, this time of year always depresses me for any number of reasons. It should be a joyous time, and one filled with hope. I just see things the way they are. It's just another year that has passed me by. It's another year that I've bid farewell to friends and family. It's just another step closer to absolutely nothing. I realize that I'm not being filled with Christmas cheer here, but I'm engaged in a battle. I'm saddened about Marion's condition, and I feel so helpless. I'm not really helpless. I think it's just that powerless feeling that goes along with getting a diagnosis such as this. Even when the cancer is staged, and treatments begin, I think there will still be that hopelessness. I'm battling that because I hate self-defeating ideology. I'm just trying to stay strong.

Maybe it's time to start outlining another project.

Finally, some good news!

Marion got a call today while I was out from the Cooper Cancer Institute. Since an abnormality was found on the pap smear (which we knew there would be an abnormality), she is covered for further diagnostic testing. Granted, we already know she has cervical cancer, and we already have had diagnostic tests done. You may wonder why we're going through all this again.

It's kind of a two fold answer. One, I felt that the clinic she was going to for her original issue was very incompetent. They were overcrowded, always in a hurry, and more concerned with getting people in and out. While I realize that the biopsy that was done was done correctly, I still feel the need for a second diagnosis. That also constitutes the second reason we're doing this. Being uninsured leaves little to no options. People with insurance don't understand that because they have insurance and can't comprehend all the red flags and tape the uninsured have to go through. This path we're on now is part of the NJ CEED program. The treatments will begin once it's been diagnosed again. That should be soon, so very soon.

So, this is a post of hope. I also saw Ron, my cousin, today. While he is still very weak, he remains in good spirits and very hopeful of his prognosis. I am hopeful too, and I hope that he continues to regain strength. He's an important guy to me, and a lot of other people.

Helpful Links:
NJ CEED Program Info

And since Howard posted his favorite Christmas carol, here's mine:

Flextronics: Life on Hold

After my stint of living in Las Vegas, I cam back to New Jersey optimistic. I was ready to make some changes and put the past behind me. Somehow, it's worked out much differently than I had planned so far at this point. I don't want to make it appear that all is doom and gloom since I've been back, but these past five years since I have been back in NJ have been the most trying, sad, and stressful times in my life.

So, getting back to Flextronics. I applied to Solectron in November of 2005 on a whim. It was a posting for a technical service rep. I would be (I assumed) working on cell phones. I would repair them in shop. That's not exactly how it worked though. From the time of my interview, to being in store, I knew something was amiss. The interview consisted of just a few questions such as, "When can you start?" and "Do you have a criminal record?" Besides those few rudimentary queries, there wasn't much more. It wasn't so much a traditional interview as it was a desperate attempt to put someone in a store as quickly as possible.

The one week training was a lavish affair out of town. I traveled from South Jersey to Baltimore, MD to stay in a Residence Inn for a week on the company. Breakfast and dinner were provided as well. It was this facade of lavishness that drew you in and wanted you to stay with the company. I mean, a company that will foot your hotel bill for a week when you first start has to be a wonderful company, right?

The training was all about CDMA and cell phones and a bunch of other crap I don't want to even remember. There was a time I could have told you all the differences between a CDMA network and a GSM network, but those days are long behind me. I found it strange that the trainer wasn't actually training us on how to fix phones, but rather he was training us on how to replace phones by checking their warranty status and such. But, I figured if we didn't actually have to repair them, that made things easier because how hard could replacing a broken phone for a new one be?

So, after a week of free meals, beer, and lackluster training that prepared me for nothing, I was sent to my "home" store. Once there, I met my "Team Leader" who ran the shop with an iron fist. I also met someone who took me under her wing, and who I think I never fully thanked for her help in the early days. Without her, I don't think I would have lasted for nearly as long as I did. I also met Bill. Bill was the prototype worker for Solectron. He was fat, lazy, and avoided any and all work at all costs (as long as he didn't have to get out of his chair). I came to loathe Bill and his obvious lack of any work ethic. It made the entire shop look bad, but I digress. What struck me about the job in those early days was just how often they would give out PD's, or Performance Documents. I have never before or since seen a company that feels the need to document as many asinine things as this company. And, my first TL was a master of writing a PD. She was an artist at it and could literally with the force of her mind alone conjure up a PD out of thin air. To this day, nearly five years later, I still harbor resentment over just how many PDs I would get (over such frivolous things) and Bill didn't get nary a one. It was ineffective management.

I was transferred soon after starting to the Hamilton Mall. I was transferred because I think the TL didn't like me and wanted me out of her store, but who knows? The way the company worked they would transfer people just to transfer them for no other reason than they wanted to transfer people and move them around. I was welcomed into my new store by a kid who was younger than me (by many years) and another Bill-like clone named Fred. At least Fred was helpful and we got along pretty well. The fresh faced lad wasn't a TL yet, that wasn't his destiny at that point. He was a made up position called a...as I search my memory I can't recall what they called it. But, it was the same as a TL with all the demands, and responsibility without the pay. Yes, it was Lead Tech. It was a position I was soon to be "promoted" to.

I liked the Hamilton Mall. Working with Fred was fun because of his sardonic outlook on life in general. He was a full blooded Irishman, and filled out the stereotype quite well. The fresh faced lad was eventually promoted to a TL when we got another man in the shop. For a time it was joyous. I really liked the work. But, of course, things would change.

Verizon was Solectron's master, and Verizon noted that more than 50% of the people go to the service counter. Why can't the service department sell, they must have reasoned? So, if this sounds familiar to Comcast, you're right. Sales and service are connected, you see, so let's make them sell. There were obvious problems with this.

First, people that are having an issue with a cell phone aren't the happiest people in the world. It would seem that someone cut off their right hand because they dropped a call. As such, these people were pissed, super pissed. It was far from a conductive environment to sell to someone. The second problem was that most of these people already had or didn't need what little we could sell to them. We'd be told to look at their account histories to see if they texted much, etc. The trouble is most people who did text, already had some type of text plan. The people who didn't text, didn't need a plan, etc. If it wasn't a text plan, then we were told to sell the extended warranties that made me feel like I was working at Radio Shack. To bad I couldn't sell Double A batteries too. The last issue with selling is we weren't working on a commission, but the Verizon sales reps were. We were literally taking money out of their pockets whenever we sold a case or charger. The reason Verizon wanted this is because they could reap the revenue without having to pay the commission on the sale.

So, selling became a hot point soon after I started again. PDs were written for your lack of selling savvy. PDs were written if you were a minute late. PDs were written if you missed a "selling opportunity". PDs were written if you forgot to greet a customer. PDs flowed like wine at Hamilton Mall. My file after the Hamilton Mall was stuffed to the breaking point. Obviously, this was to document my lackluster performance. It wouldn't hold up in an unemployment hearing, but the PDs sure did make things look official. And, by the size of my file, I was quite official. It was an oppressive existence after a while and it became a challenge to get another PD for something ludicrous. I told Fred I was going to say "Damn" on the sales floor...you guessed it, PD. I had so many PDs after Hamilton Mall, they no longer meant anything.

Luckily, they shipped me out to the Cumberland Mall. I called that home for nearly the next year or so. Initially, it was a two man shop with no one in charge of anything. We didn't have anyone really looking over our shoulder, and it was pretty good for a while. The other tech, Eddie, and I got along really well. The only obstacle we faced was Verizon Management at this point. On that front, we were okay for a while because the manager was a cool dude. The Ops Manager was a total bitch, but she had little to no power at this point. So, we would do what we had to do and that was the end of it.

After some time, they finally realized we needed another tech, so I became the de facto Lead Tech. That meant I had all the responsibility with no pay increase. Now, the Ops Manager came to me about all sorts of things that really didn't matter. And, I was soon introduced to my true nemesis...April. April was a manger who had career aspirations in mind. Since this is a family friendly blog, let's just say she was a shrew of a woman. She made everyday a trial with no reward. She would talk to you and say everything was a-ok, and then email your supervisor and rag on you. She did this consistently throughout the time I knew her. She was a two faced wretch that only looked out for herself and hated the tech department with a passion. The feeling was mutual after some time.

Each day when I came in I would receive a report that Eddie went to the bathroom to long, or Ronin (the third tech) was rapping too loud, or a sorts of nonsense. It didn't matter that we did the exchanges within the metrics, or our numbers (which at this point were based on a take rate) were excellent. When things were going okay, they still found something, anything to complain about. It was all such a bunch of nonsense. Along with all this was the mounds of unnecessary paperwork that detailed our every movement in the shop. There were reports for amounts of exchanges, data and accessories sold, payroll, attendance, amount of bathroom breaks, etc. It was mind numbing. And, I was growing increasingly bitter that I was doing all this and getting paid the same as other techs that just had to show up. A posting for a TL popped up, and I took the opportunity, because a) I would be out of April's reach (for the time being) and b) I would finally get the pay increase I deserved.

The interview for the position was probably the worst I ever had. I didn't matter though, because I was shooting for them to look at my accomplishments rather than if I could answer a bunch of stupid questions. It worked out and after a lengthy review process, I finally got the promotion.

Echelon Mall was a pretty good time. I was there for a year, and Tom, the VZ manager was alright. He had a habit about complaining about how Ed sold batteries, but really that was his only issue. He was a laid back guy, and that worked with me because there wasn't too much to worry about. The Ops Manager was a crap faced jackass though. She was in charge of our monthly QA Evaluation and always marked things off for no reason. If we had one SKU error, we were unacceptable. If we had minor issues, we were always unacceptable. Add to it that she had absolutely no sense of humor, and it made life a living hell. The Assistant Manager was an awesome Dominican named Ray. He always made jokes about his heritage (like "Why don't Dominicans BBQ? Because the beans would go through the grill") Tom and Ray were great to work for, but that Ops Manager was just so overbearing.

My team at Echelon is what I affectionately called the A-Team. We were a great team. I am best friends with Anthony to this day. Sarah is still close with me. Ed, well, I wish Ed and I were closer. But, the time of the A-Team was a great time. We won awards, contests (most improved), and generally were left alone. Serena was our fearless leader, and I've never had a boss who was as awesome as she was. She would listen to me, my concerns, and work to improve things. PDs were a thing of the past...because I think we both felt they were crap. I think as a TL at Echelon I wrote maybe 3 PDs because Christine (the Regional Manager) was gripping I didn't write any.

Things changed though. For reasons I still don't understand, they changed the take rate system (basically it was a ratio of transactions vs. accessories and data sold) to an arbitrary system of 3 accessories and 1 data per tech per day. It made no sense because most stores were successful under the take rate system. The arbitrary system is a system setting you up for failure, and that's what it did.

I wanted to transfer about this time to the Lancaster, PA store. I put in for it, had a phone interview, and assumed that based on my experience and accomplishments that i would get it. Well, they had their boy already in place. I was bitter that I didn't get it, and a well intentioned joke from Ed just hit me the wrong way. Despite all that was accomplished with the A-Team and Echelon, I felt like I wasn't being treated seriously. The switch to the 3/1 system hit our store hard since we didn't have much foot traffic. The Ops Manager became increasingly unstable, and Tom started getting less relaxed and more like a real VZ Manager. I think Tom had pressure put on him by his DM, and that led to him taking it out on us.

I moved to be closer to the Echelon Mall, and during my week vacation was called and told that I was being moved to another store. I found this to be completely unacceptable because I just moved about 35 miles so I could be closer to my store, and then they wanted me to still make a 30 mile trek. I said in no uncertain terms, that I wouldn't go to Princeton. It was too far and it was a joke they would wait until I move to do it. They offered me Cherry Hill (closer than Echelon and right down the road, really) and I took it. Oh, how I wished they just left me in Echelon or I took Princeton. Cherry Hill would be the end of me.

I think I lasted about a month, possibly two, at Cherry Hill. It seemed that the deck was stacked against me. The team that was in place there was the worst group of individuals I ever had to work with in any company, period. Besides Rebecca, who is also still a friend to this day, and Angelica, everyone there hated me. It was a team effort to work against me as I replaced their uber-popular TL. If they just worked with me, rather than against me, life would have been great. The worst offender was this twit named Kyle or something. He made it a mission to outright challenge my every move, be belligerent, and just be an a-hole every minute of every day towards me. The thing was I was probably the easiest going TL in the company, and if given even half a chance, we could have gotten along. After about two weeks of putting up with his crap, I finally snapped and cursed him out. He acted like I punched a baby in the face, and an investigation was launched. I made it pretty clear it was me or him. Well, since he was an idiot, he got into another argument withe a sales rep and was shipped out by the end of that week.

There were other factors at work too. April from Cumberland Mall was the Manger here, and in the year or so since we last saw each other she became even more of a shrew. The Ops Manager from Echelon came over as well, just to add to my misery. Serena was replaced when the zones were realigned. We were a tech down and it was hard to have coverage for the store on any given day. The stress was so overwhelming that I developed a horrible case of acid reflux where I would wake up choking in the middle of the night. Everything was bearing down on me. My new manager (on the Flextronics side) was well intentioned, but unhelpful. I think it was because she was a bit in over her head at the time, I'm not sure. She was a true artist with a PD as well writing out PDs for missing conference calls I was on but she said I wasn't. I got all sorts of PDs for a variety of reasons that only added to the stress. I knew she was only trying to cover her own ass, but it looked to me that she was trying to create a patsy.

I seeked out other employment soon after. After I signed my offer letter with Comcast, I wrote my manager a brief note offering my resignation. There are grand stories that I threw my till across the store and called April this and that. I'm sorry to report it was a quiet resignation and that April was on vacation when I quit. I do like the Legend of Dean's Resignation, and it still is a rumor within the stores of Verizon.

The stress was unbearable by the time I left, and it soured me on management positions. I wanted the least amount of responsibility possible, and still seek that out to this day. The rewards just aren't worth declining health and sanity. I met some people at Flex that I consider dear friends to this day. I'm happy I met Anthony and Becca. I happy I know Sarah and Ryan. I'm happy Serena is a close friend to this day and is a true confidant. I have no regrets about leaving the company because they just didn't give a crap after all the hard work you would do. They chewed you up, spit you out, and then pissed on you and everything you did. Accomplishments were only important for a week or a month at best. It just didn't matter what you did, because they always wanted more. Well, they took all I could give. They broke me, and though I've since gotten past the hate I once had for a lot of the people involved in a rather quick downfall, I'm still bitter I was viewed as nothing more than a joke to most people there. It doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things. I accomplished a lot in just a few years there. I made life long friendships. That's all that matters to me anyway.

My cousin Ron and The Beatles

As I finished up my previous blog about Comcast, I started playing some Beatles here on my computer. Why do I feel the need to play the Beatles on a Sunday. I think it goes back to my youth and when I would spend a Saturday night at my cousin's house. My cousin Ron was a pastor, and he would prepare his final notes on a Saturday if he was preaching the following Sunday. But, those Sunday mornings were always the best. He would play a selected Beatles LP (the real vinyl) as he got ready for church. When I was younger, I wouldn't care too much for it. By the time I was 15 or so, I came to appreciate The Beatles more and more. I can pinpoint it to Let it Be and the song "Two of Us" (which always reminded me of Mike and I). Mike is his son, and from the time I was 13 to about 17 or so, we were always together. We were close before then, but for those four years or so we did everything together.

This included frequent sleepovers at his house and the warmly remembered times of listening to the Beatles. I'm reminded of the Monopoly games with my cousin Ruthie when Mike was busy with his (at the time) girlfriend Kate. Ruthie and I became closer for a time because Mike was driving, going on dates, and the like. I'd still come over...kind of pathetically, and hang out with the rest of the family. Ron and I became closer due to a love of Millville football and the TV show "Picket Fences" which became a Friday Night tradition at Ron's house until I started hanging out in diners with books of bad poetry and tepid coffee.

Ron taught me how to properly steep tea, and how to work a comedic moment or two. If anything can be said about Ron, it's that he has a great comedic timing, and he always found a way to make me laugh. I've never said to him that I love him, but I do. He gave me a love for The Beatles, for tea, and for the importance of laughing. He was also my Youth Pastor for a while, and some of the retreats we went on were some of my fondest moments of my youth. I always wished I was a better athlete because he was always so good. I was terrible in sports, making the Freshman Baseball team on heart alone.

Though the years have passed, whenever I see Ron, I remember those times of my youth. When my Mom passed away, I could think of no one that I would rather have be a part of the service. When I wanted a grand marriage ceremony (before all this mess that Marion's been going through), there was no one besides Ron that I even considered to marry us.

So, I love Ron. He's going through a rough patch right now with his cancer, and I hope for the best. I hope he gets through this because I know how much he means to people. I know some wounds need to be healed, and I'm not going into that here, but I hope everything works out. They say time heals all wounds, and I know personally with my brother Dan, that seems to be the case with my Dad. Time has a way of doing that.

We Dream Big Here: The Story of Comcast

I was talking about my blog last night with a friend, and I was saying that there was just no way to sugarcoat my time with Comcast. Simply put, Comcast was the worst job I have ever had. There is no other way to say it. There is no other way to express the horrid existence that encompassed my every moment at Comcast.

I joined the ranks of Comcast when I left Flextronics on a whim. I felt that Flextronics had terribly mistreated me (which was somewhat true), and that the only way to escape was to seek other employment elsewhere. Of course, Comcast would be such a place, right? I mean, they are a multi-billion dollar company that owns their own networks, call centers, and what not. This would be my plan, to get in at a call center and eventually through my hard work and dedication apply and land a job with either CN8 (which is now the Comcast Network) or Comcast Sports Philly. I had months of experience working in TV. I had years of training for TV Production and Film. Surely, this would have to work. I was wrong yet again. And, being wrong this time led to perhaps the worst year of my working life.

I worked in a Call Center with Comcast. I was hired for the APG or Advanced Products Group Department. When I was hired I was told that there would be no selling involved (as that was a concern of mine) and that I would be troubleshooting internet issues from people. I would not be taking any calls about cable or the rather new phone that Comcast had launched. My only concern was to troubleshoot the internet, and that was the most of it.

It sounded like an utopia. I would just have to tell people to unplug their modem. wait 30 seconds, and try to get online again. I'd do this between 20 and 30 times a day, and I'd get paid for it. It was beyond an easy payday. This was getting paid to basically sit there, watch TV, and tell people to do something that they should have done before they called us.

However, Comcast had a series of metrics in place to ensure misery on your part. First, they timed your calls. It's been so long now that I forget exactly what the metric was at the time, but it was something like a 5 minute call average. Think about that. Within 5 minutes you should have gotten the customer's info, verified it, troubleshot their issue, ask them if they had any other issues, and say goodbye. The first problem with this is obviously some people that call are just slow either mentally or physically. Some people would call and their modems are nestled in the corner of a basement that only a trained acrobat could get to. Some people had no idea what a "modem" was. Some people didn't even have the power to their computer on. It was times like this that you would go a bit crazy because you knew you were in a bind, and if you were on a call longer than say, 12 minutes, you would have a supervisor or one of their lackeys come over and ask you why you were on the phone for "so long". The job was still bearable, but things soon changed.

I was trained to take calls about phone issues soon after I started (I believe within three months). These calls were much more technical, and took more time to figure out. Sometimes, it was an issue we couldn't fix and we'd send it off to the appropriate department. This took time though, and raised your average call time. The biggest issue I had initially with the phone issues was on Thanksgiving of '07, after 8pm, I was the only one on staff for the entire state of New Jersey to take phone issues. So, while my co-workers were literally throwing a football over my head and generally loafing off, I had call after call after miserable call. Honestly, most people took 4 or 5 calls the entire night. I took 35 or so. I nearly quit that night.

The second metric that added to my misery was around the fifth month there, they decided to make us, the service department, sell. Now, remember, I asked during my interview(s) (to three different people) if selling was part of the job. I was told by three different people during the interview process that there would be absolutely no way that selling would be involved, much less as a way for you to be measured on as a successful troubleshooter. Before the switch to selling, my numbers were pretty good, if not excellent. My average call time was excellent. My hold time was excellent. The calls that were reviewed were good to excellent. All the metrics they measured me by were golden. They were so good, that within five to six months of employment I was promoted to a level 2 position. Level 3 would never come to pass simply based off my upgrades (selling).

In a word, I felt betrayed that this company was looking so desperately for revenue that they figured they could make us sell. I felt betrayed because I was told in the interview and the months in between that selling was never going to be an issue. I felt betrayed...because soon it became a reason to put people on PIPs (Personal Improvement Plans) that would stop you from transferring to other places. I couldn't see what selling a person faster internet had to do with transferring into the Production department. I couldn't see what selling a second phoneline to people had to do with getting into dispatch. But, if you were on a PIP, it disqualified you from transferring out of the call center and going anywhere else.

When I found out about the impending doom of selling crap to people that they couldn't afford or even need, I tried like a madman to transfer anywhere but the call center. I tried Dispatch, several TV positions, Research, etc. Those applications for internal transfer just sat there for months while my numbers went south based solely on my upgrade numbers which were now more important than any other metric we had. In the course of perhaps three months, I went from someone who was promoted rather quickly to someone of the verge of being placed on a PIP. I saw my intentions of using the call center as a springboard to a TV position go up in smoke right before my eyes all due to something I never had the intention to do.

Just after about 9 months of being there, I was formally placed on my first PIP. This led to meetings with my apathetic and MIA supervisor, the Night Manager, and eventually the Director of APG. I know it was after my second meeting with both my supervisor and Night Manager that I decided I would just phone it in from there on in. I was told during that meeting that it was their job to make sure I was happy whether that was with Comcast or not. From that point forward, the writing was on the wall, and I decided I would just show up and take calls. I sure as hell wasn't going to sell. But, I would take calls, troubleshoot, and wait for the pink slip that would surely be coming my way.

But, the pink slip would never come. I would stroll in a half hour late and not a word would be said. I would sometimes get on the train to go to work, get off at the station, and just get back on and go home. I would call Comcast and use their very liberal Flex-Time, and nothing would ever be said about it. I swear, I didn't show up for about a month at one point, and I still had a job. I just came back to work and NO ONE said a thing. I still get health insurance, pension, and the like from Comcast. For months afterward, I was still signed up for trainings through the company. It was so odd. I couldn't shake this place.

Other reasons why Comcast was so horrid was the management team never, and I mean, never wanted to help out. With the exception of my first supervisor (who wisely left APG soon after selling became a huge metric), I had a series of increasingly horrid supervisors. The first was a Kermit look alike that was never at his desk after 6pm when most of the calls started coming through. I'd have to search through the maze of desks, lockers, and cubicles to find someone who could help out. There was a rather large, fat, and lazy supervisor who stayed at her desk, but she would make such an issue out of you coming to her, that you hated seeking her out. "Where's YOUR supervisor?" she would ask already knowing the answer that he was in the gym or not even on site. We had a Tier Two team that was just right next to us, but we couldn't ask them for help for reasons I don't even understand. Here's the people right here who could settle an issue, but let me fill out this form instead and hope they fix it within 48 hours.

Finally, the people who called in were just horrible people. There were a few good natured souls who were very happy that you were there to help them get back online so they could watch porn (I had one guy at midnight tell me that). But, I'd say a good 90% of the people were bitter souls who didn't know how to deal with people. They would curse at you. They would belittle you. They would threaten you with bodily harm. We had one guy who was so bad...he was actually a gravedigger (I can't make this up) and he would call in whenever his meds wore off and make women cry (seriously). He would say the most outlandish and messed up things. I never got to take one of his calls, but whenever he called in there would be an email alert that he was on the prowl.

But, even if you didn't have these extremes, most people were generally complete a-holes. Like I said, they didn't know how to deal with people and would just yell and scream demanding everything under the sun. One call after another was the norm. I was called everything under the sun and back again...all because they couldn't get online (usually due to their own incompetence). It was insane how people would treat you. At my peak I averaged 40 calls a night and I'd say 30 to 35 cursed me out, called me an idiot, or wished death upon me. It's not because of anything I had said. This was usually their greeting to me..."You SOB, I f-ing hate Comcast, and you f-ers f-ing f-ed up my internet, and now I can't get HD channels on my f-ing TV because you're all f-ing f-s. You listenin' to me, you f-ing idiot?" After a while, this bears down upon you.

So, I never did get to transfer to TV Production. I never did become a Level 3 CAE. No, my career was stalled at Level 2 and since I wouldn't sell, I would forever be a Level 2. I felt there was no career advancement because I tried to get out of the call center while my numbers were still on the up and up. Hell, I even tried to transfer to the warehouse...seriously. I tried all this because I did feel that Comcast was recession proof and they provide stability. But, I just couldn't bear being called a f-ing idiot one more time, and I just couldn't stand the thought of being stuck in a call center for the rest of my days. Add to it I was going through a rough patch mentally at the time, and well, I made my decision to use all my Flex-Time and never come back. And, that's what I did. I was hired at Col Penn just as I took my last Flex day. And, even though Col Penn didn't work out, it was a reprieve from the horrible place that Comcast was. I met some great people at Comcast that I keep up with on facebook and all. We're not close friends, but we keep up with one another. I don't harbor any ill will toward the company because I do think they offer some good services, and overall I'm happy with the Triple Play I currently have. I just wish that selling never became a part of success there, and I could have transfered out to TV which was my intention, and which I was told would be an option for me due to my background. I was lied to by nearly everyone in the company and held back. I think they just wanted to keep everyone in their place.

But, overall, it wasn't so bad. Some of the callers were fun. Like the old guy who called after the McCain/Obama debate and told me Obama was born in Kenya and we shouldn't put him on TV. Or, there was the "meow" game I would play with a few customers here or there. My record was 21 "meows" in the course of a conversation (the "meow" game was inspired by Super Troopers). I was on a podcast for a while that was fun, but I felt wasn't going anywhere. Maybe I'll start calling in again. It was fun to do. The co workers were the only reason to like the job. Everything else was rubbish.

Up next in the series, "Life on Hold: The TL's Guide to Flextronics".