Old People Love Me

I spend a lot of time trolling the internet before I find a job opening I could imagine squeezing into. I've fallen into a routine to this regard. I start each morning scanning JournalismJobs.com, my way of keeping a candle burning for the hope that a Cincinnati publication is looking for a new reporter. The job postings are scarce most days, and almost never for positions here in the Queen City.

Next I look at Craigslist's Writing/Editing job section. Most posts here are from content mills looking for search-engine-optimized human blurb machines ready to churn out 400-word articles on acai berries for $10 a pop. The whole business smells like a pyramid scheme, so I don't linger. Some postings are from companies looking for writers to fill their Web sites for paltry pay. One suggested that the mere experience would be compensation enough. I also scroll through Craigslist's general job listings, where I find plenty of material for a novel, but few legitimate employment opportunities. So far I’ve sifted through postings with the following titles: "Asbestos Workers," "$$$$ HIV+? $$$$," and "COMPANY LOOKING FOR OBAMA EXPRESS GIRL! IT COULD BE YOU!"

Finally I turn to the big job sites, Monster and CareerBuilder, which offer me a list of jobs related to media and communications. Many of these jobs are with advertising agencies or PR firms, industries my journalism training taught me to disparage, but to which I am now an eager applicant. After all, what better challenge to a writer than to write copy catchy enough to sell frozen vegetables? I applied for one advertising job and reached the interview stage. The interview went well, but they finally turned me down. I thought they’d found a better qualified candidate, but two weeks later they posted an ad for the same position on CareerBuilder. Ouch. It's hard to be rejected for someone better, harder still to be rejected for no one at all.

They aren’t all agency jobs, though. Not long ago I applied for a job as the events director for a Jewish nursing home. Now I have accompanied my grandfather on several sing-a-longs to retirement villages near his Australian home, so I felt highly qualified for this position. Furthermore, my rich background in crafts would complement the position nicely. I submitted my resume and cover letter, and when I followed up a week later, I learned that I was one of 300 applicants for the position. Among them they found their events director, and it wasn’t me. It must be a recession when sing-a-long experience isn’t enough street-cred to at least get a guy an interview.