In My Corner

I have an interview today at two with a small company that hasn't really made clear what it is they're looking for. They definitely want someone with my general experience, but it sounds like they develop their own solutions instead of buying it from third party vendors--in other words, my kind of people.

I've always had the philosophy, one that doesn't sit well with my teammates, that it is better to develop it in-house than to rely on other people to get it right for you. This puts me in the extreme minority, and often I have wax poetic about the opposite. An analogy would be a Catholic saying he's Jewish just for a nights pleasure.

Another interview is setup for Thursday, where my new favorite recruiters, Steve and Tom, are trying to set me up as a project manager, even though I've never officially been one. Steve says Tom has an uncanny ability to match people to the hiring managers, and I'm the one.

I told my dad about it, who told me... Well, just listen:

"I've always told you that everybody stoops to shit."

"Yeah, that's true dad."

"It took me a long time to learn it. Things in Ohio were so bad that I moved to Florida where the work was, and my dad told me that they would have me for lunch."

"Wow," I said, "I can't believe that."

"But I did it. And I wore a brave look, but inside I was scared, like maybe my dad was right, that everyone was right, that I wasn't good enough. But I gave you the confidence and you do it without the fear."

"I'll give that one to you dad, I'm not afraid to jump in. But I could be better..."

"Bullshit. I've seen you when you dig in, like Clint Eastwood. Your face gets all scrunched up and nobody is getting in your way. You look those people in the eyes and tell them point blank how it's going to be. If another person can do it, you can do it better."

"Well, alrighty then!" I laughed.

"Ok, I'll get off the soapbox son. Just go get 'em."

How can I fail with that kind of trainer in my corner!

I still haven't heard back from the editors of the Globe West, but I promise to call every other day until I recieve an official rejection, and then I'll call every day after that. I'm good buddies with the receptionist, who remembered me and said the editor was at the main office downtown and hasn't been in yet.

Email, I told him, can be read anywhere.

Maybe I should have left that one out.