While I'm at it:
Is your cell phone secure?
Latest Activities/Musings
I've actually received my first unemployment check from EDD! It was a long time coming, and a lot of bureaucratic effort, but it paid off. CASHING said checks is quite another story for yours truly - due to my being blacklisted from normal banking services. So far, holding my breath on a two-party check ATM deposit at my sister's bank.
I've so far had two telephone job interviews - a week apart; one for the company I'd worked for previously, one for another large healthcare organization - both for quite reasonable positions, and both with moderately promising results. No resting on the daily push though - I'm still responding to unrelated posts as they come in from the many job search engines I'm subscribed to. I'm also ramping up on a free 3 month trial of UpMo - a rather unique "Intelligent Job Hunt" and networking site. It's a bit of a learning curve to use their unique style of explicitly networked job seeking, but it does look quite interesting and rich in helpful info. With that in mind...
The Job is Networking (Writing)
Landing squarely on the last day of 2009, it occurs to me that my primary job for at least the first few days of 2010 (I can always hope for less "free" time) is Networking - the traditional meaning of that word, not specifically the technical; though for me, of course, the primary medium is the via the latter. Going a bit deeper still, it seems my focus needs to shift slightly from my prior technically oriented career pursuits to the related pursuit of my first passion - the very activity I'm engaged in - writing (any and every mode).
Look for increasing activity on this blog, and hopefully some of my other social networking domains as well.
A Happy and Prosperous New Year to All!
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Old Tech
Yesterday, digging through some of my old stuff that my sister stashed for me, I encountered a gadget (I never owned - some of their stuff is mixed in with mine) that rather fascinated me; an old (but new looking) Psion PDA. Being always the techno-curious sort, I plumbed the thing together with its battery charger, and fooled around with it this morning to see what tricks it could do. I also downloaded a PDF user manual for it - noting that the manufacturer (Psion) is now defunct.
Silly thing actually works fine, and noting that its original retail price was probably in excess of $100 (way back when non-cellular PDAs were "nifty"), I did my very best to try to figure out what this gizmo might add to my life/routine. Sadly, the answer, after much fiddling, was zilch. My current (near bottom of the line) cell phone is more capable overall in terms of life management (it has many PDA style organizer functions embedded). Between that and the notebook PC I'm writing this on, the (then) snazzy little PDA is 100% obsolete. I'll be putting it in the donations bag along with all the other electronic "junk" we've come across.
Those of you who know me can likely predict where this leads me - to the philosophical (yet strangely practical) issue of "whither thou goest, latest and greatest technology - aye, to the junk heap!"
Certainly, the junking of old technology is nothing new in itself - no doubt the very first plough got tossed into the then equivalent of the backyard junk pile when a new and better version came along. What's astounding to me today is the exponentially accelerating pace of this process I've seen in my own lifetime. Witness the very cell phone that trumped the PDA above; guess how many "junk" cell phones go through the Salvation Army electronics section in a week? I can tell you from my stint there, it's a literal pile - we counted them into boxes of 50 or so, and they got shipped to an (unknown to me) cell phone recycler (one can only hope/imagine what that "recycling" process looks like). For something like cell phones, it's sales shelf to junk bin in far less than a year on average. And how many people in our society carry cell phones?
I'm a trend-bucker, to some degree, in that process. My current cell phone is actually several years old, and rather "minimalist" in terms of features - and it suits me just fine with the new SIM card I bought for it so I could have the pay-as-you-go plan I need currently (at zero income without help, I can't afford to pay for even one minute I don't use). I'll probably keep that phone until it breaks (or I do, or it becomes useless on the latest wireless network) - because I've never had much use for tiny objects that pretense to run my life for me.
Same thing with this notebook - it's a refurbished machine (a pretty decent one even for today), shipped to me with Vista on it (which I hate with a passion - apparently not alone), and outside of upgrading the OS with a "downgrade" to XP if I can ever afford it, I'm not liable to change a thing or want anything new for quite awhile - as long as it still works.
I'm also a "late adopter" of technology, as the OS enlightened realized in reading the paragraph above - yes, I've heard of Windows 7. No, you won't see me going near that one (unless it's dumped on me, like Vista was) until it has a track record of stability equaling or rivaling XP. Meanwhile, here comes (maybe) Google Chrome, and a whole new paradigm of network embedded computing - which likewise will prove itself to me when it does. Am I stodgy? Probably. Then again, everything "new and improved" (Google "oxymoron") has a cost - and personally, I'm broke, and even though that will no doubt change radically in the future, I've meanwhile gotten a hold of some pretty deep values in terms of personal economics. I need what I need, and that can be very different from eye candy (technical or otherwise).
Silly thing actually works fine, and noting that its original retail price was probably in excess of $100 (way back when non-cellular PDAs were "nifty"), I did my very best to try to figure out what this gizmo might add to my life/routine. Sadly, the answer, after much fiddling, was zilch. My current (near bottom of the line) cell phone is more capable overall in terms of life management (it has many PDA style organizer functions embedded). Between that and the notebook PC I'm writing this on, the (then) snazzy little PDA is 100% obsolete. I'll be putting it in the donations bag along with all the other electronic "junk" we've come across.
Those of you who know me can likely predict where this leads me - to the philosophical (yet strangely practical) issue of "whither thou goest, latest and greatest technology - aye, to the junk heap!"
Certainly, the junking of old technology is nothing new in itself - no doubt the very first plough got tossed into the then equivalent of the backyard junk pile when a new and better version came along. What's astounding to me today is the exponentially accelerating pace of this process I've seen in my own lifetime. Witness the very cell phone that trumped the PDA above; guess how many "junk" cell phones go through the Salvation Army electronics section in a week? I can tell you from my stint there, it's a literal pile - we counted them into boxes of 50 or so, and they got shipped to an (unknown to me) cell phone recycler (one can only hope/imagine what that "recycling" process looks like). For something like cell phones, it's sales shelf to junk bin in far less than a year on average. And how many people in our society carry cell phones?
I'm a trend-bucker, to some degree, in that process. My current cell phone is actually several years old, and rather "minimalist" in terms of features - and it suits me just fine with the new SIM card I bought for it so I could have the pay-as-you-go plan I need currently (at zero income without help, I can't afford to pay for even one minute I don't use). I'll probably keep that phone until it breaks (or I do, or it becomes useless on the latest wireless network) - because I've never had much use for tiny objects that pretense to run my life for me.
Same thing with this notebook - it's a refurbished machine (a pretty decent one even for today), shipped to me with Vista on it (which I hate with a passion - apparently not alone), and outside of upgrading the OS with a "downgrade" to XP if I can ever afford it, I'm not liable to change a thing or want anything new for quite awhile - as long as it still works.
I'm also a "late adopter" of technology, as the OS enlightened realized in reading the paragraph above - yes, I've heard of Windows 7. No, you won't see me going near that one (unless it's dumped on me, like Vista was) until it has a track record of stability equaling or rivaling XP. Meanwhile, here comes (maybe) Google Chrome, and a whole new paradigm of network embedded computing - which likewise will prove itself to me when it does. Am I stodgy? Probably. Then again, everything "new and improved" (Google "oxymoron") has a cost - and personally, I'm broke, and even though that will no doubt change radically in the future, I've meanwhile gotten a hold of some pretty deep values in terms of personal economics. I need what I need, and that can be very different from eye candy (technical or otherwise).
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Joy of Text
A personal blessing that occurred to me recently is that I swim freely through a world that few of my peers know, except in passing. It's a world I dived into decades ago, when most of our society was oblivious to its existence; many thought the whole concept (and probably me) nuts. It's a world that's since been molded into the very fabric of our modern culture, in the very specific ways that suit the current generation. It's a world that has been superseded by technology enhancements like the World Wide Web, camera phones, and video on demand - yet carries on as if nothing happened. It's a world that comes naturally to writers (avocation) like me. It's the world of electronic plain text communication (I'll shorten it to "text" for this post), in its various forms.
In recent times, the power I tap from my experience in this world has come home to me in a big way, due to my hearing loss. When one loses one's hearing (even partially), the most profound effect I've noticed is the social isolation it causes. Things like hearing aids and other assistive audio technologies help (though not the Deaf), but they can't fully replace a working pair of ears for the day to day social experience every person needs to thrive - and sure, there are lots of folks who are deprived said social experience for a variety of reasons, not just hearing issues. Naturally, those of us who are able turn to the next best thing - writing (text). The key issues there, of course, are ability and availability. And as I'm so frequently discovering for myself lately, the "next best thing" often turns out to be just that - better, in some ways, than the speech ability it replaces.
Ability as an issue reared its ugly head before me the other day when I was volunteer tutoring computer skills for a bunch of Salvation Army beneficiaries in an ad-hoc computer lab there. Though some of these folks have computer skills, most have relatively little knowledge or experience in this realm. What's worse for them, though, is that many of them also have quite limited literacy (reading and writing skills using English - or any language, for that matter). In helping them learn to do things like set up and use email accounts, create resumes, etc., I've had to check myself often that I'm not putting undue expectations of literacy on any given student. These students are highly motivated - they volunteer for this class (and many are also taking a GED course). They know that computer skills are an essential component of most jobs today; and also that said skills can greatly enhance their search for employment when they graduate the program.
I wrote the above paragraph because I want to point out my gratitude that I am both highly literate and live in an age when my literacy, combined with the available technologies, can enable me to thrive, even in the absence of good hearing. This wasn't always so (historically), and it certainly isn't so for those who have limited or no functional literacy. Hence I have also volunteered (yet to fulfill) to tutor literacy at the same facility (something I have prior experience in elsewhere) - for that very reason: gratitude.
What really drove me to this post today was my re-growing social experience through real-time text media; most specifically, my participation in chat rooms through Internet Relay Chat (IRC). IRC is a predominantly text based medium that's been around literally for decades (just like me), and is as crazy and full of mindless nonsense as it has always been. Mired in the process though, are real people who, for a variety of reasons, find this method of socializing to be ideal - either in tandem with more natural means, or as one of their primary social outlets. The power of text in this mode comes out for me in the "purity" of communication with others - I can't see them, and that's actually a good thing; I'm not distracted by visual cues. It's easier to be "real" and efficient when you're not so distracted - witness the (still) entrenchment of the voice telephone (for the hearing-abled) over (now easily available) video conferencing.
IRC is just one example of the power of text for me. Another is the availability of SMS (cell phone) text messaging - something I use many times a day to coordinate my activities in my local social circle. In many instances, a simple "dead-end" (no response required) text message can be more effective than a long, drawn out (and for me, sometimes difficult to understand) phone call. Ability, again, plays a major role - some of us are more skilled and patient with cell phone "keyboarding" than others; I'm not bad at it, but I'm still known to revert to a (happily available!) SMS via Internet service when I'm near my computer.
Text is a limited form of communication, certainly, but hidden in its limitations (for me, anyway) are freedom and power and depth of experience. It's the "power of the pen" literally accelerated by computer technology. This blog is one example. Text doesn't globally replace any other form of communication any more than computers have made printed books obsolete (they haven't come close). For those who have access to it, it's potentially world-expanding; for those who don't, it's another difference to challenge our compassion.
In recent times, the power I tap from my experience in this world has come home to me in a big way, due to my hearing loss. When one loses one's hearing (even partially), the most profound effect I've noticed is the social isolation it causes. Things like hearing aids and other assistive audio technologies help (though not the Deaf), but they can't fully replace a working pair of ears for the day to day social experience every person needs to thrive - and sure, there are lots of folks who are deprived said social experience for a variety of reasons, not just hearing issues. Naturally, those of us who are able turn to the next best thing - writing (text). The key issues there, of course, are ability and availability. And as I'm so frequently discovering for myself lately, the "next best thing" often turns out to be just that - better, in some ways, than the speech ability it replaces.
Ability as an issue reared its ugly head before me the other day when I was volunteer tutoring computer skills for a bunch of Salvation Army beneficiaries in an ad-hoc computer lab there. Though some of these folks have computer skills, most have relatively little knowledge or experience in this realm. What's worse for them, though, is that many of them also have quite limited literacy (reading and writing skills using English - or any language, for that matter). In helping them learn to do things like set up and use email accounts, create resumes, etc., I've had to check myself often that I'm not putting undue expectations of literacy on any given student. These students are highly motivated - they volunteer for this class (and many are also taking a GED course). They know that computer skills are an essential component of most jobs today; and also that said skills can greatly enhance their search for employment when they graduate the program.
I wrote the above paragraph because I want to point out my gratitude that I am both highly literate and live in an age when my literacy, combined with the available technologies, can enable me to thrive, even in the absence of good hearing. This wasn't always so (historically), and it certainly isn't so for those who have limited or no functional literacy. Hence I have also volunteered (yet to fulfill) to tutor literacy at the same facility (something I have prior experience in elsewhere) - for that very reason: gratitude.
What really drove me to this post today was my re-growing social experience through real-time text media; most specifically, my participation in chat rooms through Internet Relay Chat (IRC). IRC is a predominantly text based medium that's been around literally for decades (just like me), and is as crazy and full of mindless nonsense as it has always been. Mired in the process though, are real people who, for a variety of reasons, find this method of socializing to be ideal - either in tandem with more natural means, or as one of their primary social outlets. The power of text in this mode comes out for me in the "purity" of communication with others - I can't see them, and that's actually a good thing; I'm not distracted by visual cues. It's easier to be "real" and efficient when you're not so distracted - witness the (still) entrenchment of the voice telephone (for the hearing-abled) over (now easily available) video conferencing.
IRC is just one example of the power of text for me. Another is the availability of SMS (cell phone) text messaging - something I use many times a day to coordinate my activities in my local social circle. In many instances, a simple "dead-end" (no response required) text message can be more effective than a long, drawn out (and for me, sometimes difficult to understand) phone call. Ability, again, plays a major role - some of us are more skilled and patient with cell phone "keyboarding" than others; I'm not bad at it, but I'm still known to revert to a (happily available!) SMS via Internet service when I'm near my computer.
Text is a limited form of communication, certainly, but hidden in its limitations (for me, anyway) are freedom and power and depth of experience. It's the "power of the pen" literally accelerated by computer technology. This blog is one example. Text doesn't globally replace any other form of communication any more than computers have made printed books obsolete (they haven't come close). For those who have access to it, it's potentially world-expanding; for those who don't, it's another difference to challenge our compassion.
Sunday, December 13, 2009
One Year
Yesterday, I celebrated one year of sobriety from my last dry date of 12/12/2008. And what a year it has been!
First, an inscription from a gift my sister gave me to mark this milestone:
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Press on: Nothing in the world can take the place of perseverance.
Talent will not: Nothing is more common than unsuccessful men with talent.
Genius will not: Unrewarded genius is almost a proverb.
Education will not: The world is full of educated derelicts.
Persistence and determination alone are omnipotent.
Press on!
- Calvin Coolidge
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I like to assume that the genotype is the obvious explanation for the appreciation of values my eldest sister and I share. The best science says that plays a big part, but isn't everything. Perhaps because over the years we've swapped roles as anchors in our various life storms; perhaps the vision wrought by hard experience is indistinguishable from person to person (acknowledging cynicism as the counterpoint view).
Whatever the reason, my sister (as so frequently happens) nailed it.
The key gift that brought me to this point in my recovery was the persistence embodied in the (short form) Serenity Prayer - "God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference." In my struggle to explain the reason I'm sober today when so many of my peers in "recovery" are not; indeed, in comparing my own failed attempts (relapses) prior to this "...phase of my development...", the only words that come to mind are persistence and dogged determination - not of my own making, but consistent gifts of a Higher Power I neither fully understand nor need to. And that speaks sharply to the intellect that failed me.
Make no mistake - I'm grateful for that intellect that lets me plumb the depths of both the real and the imaginary worlds. But it's a tool - not a god - and therein lies my failure, because I made it the latter. Coolidge could so easily point to me and my life so far as his template for the quote above. I fully believed that my talents, "genius" (intellect), and education made me invincible - with them, I'd solve any problem that cropped up (even alcoholism). But I forgot there is one problem these things couldn't solve - that problem is me. Left to my own devices, I drink, or find myriad other ways to avoid my reality - and in so doing, destroy all hope for my own happiness.
So it is that a year ago yesterday I was hopeless, and finally able to surrender control of my life to an unknown power - with the certitude that no matter the outcome of doing so, it couldn't be worse than my situation at that time. This is the "bottom" that many recovering addicts/alcoholics refer to - the place of complete surrender - and it's different for everyone; some need to be far worse off (materially) than others - but it always represents a complete failure of self-will. We give up, we just can't figure life out.
Today, I still can't figure life out - but I know I no longer need to. I have ever growing faith in a power, far greater than my own talents, intellect, or education that can "figure my life out" for me - and guide me, when I have the humility to ask for guidance, to solutions that give me serenity and peace with the world as it is, and with my fellows. For that, and for them, I am grateful as I begin this, my second year of sobriety - one day at a time.
First, an inscription from a gift my sister gave me to mark this milestone:
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Press on: Nothing in the world can take the place of perseverance.
Talent will not: Nothing is more common than unsuccessful men with talent.
Genius will not: Unrewarded genius is almost a proverb.
Education will not: The world is full of educated derelicts.
Persistence and determination alone are omnipotent.
Press on!
- Calvin Coolidge
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I like to assume that the genotype is the obvious explanation for the appreciation of values my eldest sister and I share. The best science says that plays a big part, but isn't everything. Perhaps because over the years we've swapped roles as anchors in our various life storms; perhaps the vision wrought by hard experience is indistinguishable from person to person (acknowledging cynicism as the counterpoint view).
Whatever the reason, my sister (as so frequently happens) nailed it.
The key gift that brought me to this point in my recovery was the persistence embodied in the (short form) Serenity Prayer - "God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference." In my struggle to explain the reason I'm sober today when so many of my peers in "recovery" are not; indeed, in comparing my own failed attempts (relapses) prior to this "...phase of my development...", the only words that come to mind are persistence and dogged determination - not of my own making, but consistent gifts of a Higher Power I neither fully understand nor need to. And that speaks sharply to the intellect that failed me.
Make no mistake - I'm grateful for that intellect that lets me plumb the depths of both the real and the imaginary worlds. But it's a tool - not a god - and therein lies my failure, because I made it the latter. Coolidge could so easily point to me and my life so far as his template for the quote above. I fully believed that my talents, "genius" (intellect), and education made me invincible - with them, I'd solve any problem that cropped up (even alcoholism). But I forgot there is one problem these things couldn't solve - that problem is me. Left to my own devices, I drink, or find myriad other ways to avoid my reality - and in so doing, destroy all hope for my own happiness.
So it is that a year ago yesterday I was hopeless, and finally able to surrender control of my life to an unknown power - with the certitude that no matter the outcome of doing so, it couldn't be worse than my situation at that time. This is the "bottom" that many recovering addicts/alcoholics refer to - the place of complete surrender - and it's different for everyone; some need to be far worse off (materially) than others - but it always represents a complete failure of self-will. We give up, we just can't figure life out.
Today, I still can't figure life out - but I know I no longer need to. I have ever growing faith in a power, far greater than my own talents, intellect, or education that can "figure my life out" for me - and guide me, when I have the humility to ask for guidance, to solutions that give me serenity and peace with the world as it is, and with my fellows. For that, and for them, I am grateful as I begin this, my second year of sobriety - one day at a time.
Friday, December 4, 2009
Blessed Incompetence
First, a short distraction, courtesy of my hero, Weird Al Yankovic:
The nightmare of every job seeker:
Skipper Dan
Above is not captioned (sorry, my HOH friends) - here are the lyrics:
Skipper Dan Lyrics
On another note, I had an appointment today with a hearing aid dispenser, courtesy the California Department of Rehabilitation - to get an updated hearing evaluation. My wizened HOH friends will smell something funny with that last statement, I know - but there's an amazing, blessed surprise in the story, and though the names must be changed to protect the guilty, innocent, and just plain crazy (me), the ending has me stoned on gratitude to/for everyone involved.
Bus person that I am, I walked an extra couple blocks to catch the "rapid" version of the bus that would take me most of the way to my appointment, leaving me with about a half-mile walk at the far end; easy for my well-toned walking legs. It took a little hunting through a boardwalk mall to find the actual office. I was almost exactly 1/2 hour early (the natural M/O of this experienced public transit user), and that turned out to be involved in the first big payoff that was cleverly disguised as ineptitude.
A sign on the door read (paraphrase)...
"We're remodeling, and our current location is now... [a backtrack location about 1.5 miles and 1/2 hour walk away]". This was an appointment I'd made by phone the day prior in response to a DOR letter that included the phone number and address (where I was) - and I racked my brain for any recollection of being told this new address on the phone. Either I had been in a flashback blackout (doubtful), or the receptionist/appointment person had forgotten to tell me (most likely). Humility alert!
I absolutely felt (heh) I had to call these folks on my cell phone to let them know I might be late. I know I was angry, but apparently (I'd be told later) I didn't let it show much; I was very sure to let the lady know I was walking. To her credit, she apologized profusely, both on the phone, and in person. Before she could get to the in-person part, I got to do my humility stint by being utterly unable to find the place without repeated guidance over the cell phone - she even had to go out front and wave me down. But I got there, and managed a good performance of humility with gratitude - which garnered me the comment that I was a lot better than some of the other folks she'd encountered (same problem! heh).
Now to the actual "hearing test" - all told, the setup was about what I'd expect from a dispenser (not an audiologist office). I was actually resigned to my fate already, but the technician wasn't! She looked at the letter the DOR sent me and declared "[she] must have goofed - I'm pretty sure they want a state licensed audioligist - they weren't supposed to send you to us!" - I couldn't but agree in principle, but, you see, I had worked so very hard to get there! I must have looked something like the rabbit right before the fox pounces, because the technician decided to ask her supervisor (who figures more prominently later), and he OK'd the test anyway [lest the reader forget, I'm "indigent" and these people know it - they won't be getting a dime anytime soon that doesn't come from the DOR].
So into their portable soundproof booth I went, and did the beepy button thing. The tech lady tried to get fancy and do the bone conduction thing, but she was having trouble getting her (unfamiliar - recall they'd relocated - the office was a disaster) machine to do the requisite narrow-band masking noise for the non-test side [the experienced HOH people just got their revenge for my slights above]. So she called back her supervisor (fuzzy relationship detection) and he twaddled around with it a bit - then declared it functionally useless, along with the speech recognition test, which wasn't happening today. He let me know I needed to reschedule to get the complete test, because the equipment they needed was at their other office. I think I surprised him by being utterly tractable - I just wanted out of there, at that point. I remember thinking "this will make a long blog post" - so right I was.
In talking to me, this supervisor (I know his name, but I'll call him Bill), queried me about my hearing aids, which I'd mentioned on the intake form, and which, in fact, I had with me. I wound up telling Bill the summary version of my "story", and apparently I twanged a couple of his heart strings in the process. He had some trouble believing the reported behavior of my capricious left HA, and wanted a look at it, so I let him look and play with his stethoscope rig. My issue had been that the aid would "fade out to dead" after a few minutes of usage, battery be damned. He couldn't repeat that scenario on his rig, but I got the effect immediately upon mounting the aid in my ear. It was "intermittent". Bill's eyes lit up then - he was sure I had a "tube problem" - not a problem with the electronics. I let him fiddle with the tube, and then he cleaned it.
It had been at least 6 months, probably closer to 9, since I'd walked around "aided". Though my right (ear) aid was assistive in the pair, it was almost useless alone, so without a functional left, I'd never bothered. You've no doubt guessed my outcome above. Bill said he thought the tube probably had some water in it, and that didn't sound wrong to me, as I'd remembered a rainy day as one of the last good ones. I couldn't do anything but shake Bill's hand and thank him profusely before walking out into the world fully aided again.
Incompetence, ineptitude - this story is full of both, isn't it? Everyone else's - and mine. My whole point in writing about this is that those features of humanity have always driven me nuts, and still can, from time to time. But this time I came home from the circus with a grateful heart. Vive la difference? It's the promises, again. I was able to walk through my crazy world without panic or even any serious high blood pressure. And nobody (including me) needed to have a bad day. Life on life's terms - acceptance. It's a wonderful way to live.
The nightmare of every job seeker:
Skipper Dan
Above is not captioned (sorry, my HOH friends) - here are the lyrics:
Skipper Dan Lyrics
On another note, I had an appointment today with a hearing aid dispenser, courtesy the California Department of Rehabilitation - to get an updated hearing evaluation. My wizened HOH friends will smell something funny with that last statement, I know - but there's an amazing, blessed surprise in the story, and though the names must be changed to protect the guilty, innocent, and just plain crazy (me), the ending has me stoned on gratitude to/for everyone involved.
Bus person that I am, I walked an extra couple blocks to catch the "rapid" version of the bus that would take me most of the way to my appointment, leaving me with about a half-mile walk at the far end; easy for my well-toned walking legs. It took a little hunting through a boardwalk mall to find the actual office. I was almost exactly 1/2 hour early (the natural M/O of this experienced public transit user), and that turned out to be involved in the first big payoff that was cleverly disguised as ineptitude.
A sign on the door read (paraphrase)...
"We're remodeling, and our current location is now... [a backtrack location about 1.5 miles and 1/2 hour walk away]". This was an appointment I'd made by phone the day prior in response to a DOR letter that included the phone number and address (where I was) - and I racked my brain for any recollection of being told this new address on the phone. Either I had been in a flashback blackout (doubtful), or the receptionist/appointment person had forgotten to tell me (most likely). Humility alert!
I absolutely felt (heh) I had to call these folks on my cell phone to let them know I might be late. I know I was angry, but apparently (I'd be told later) I didn't let it show much; I was very sure to let the lady know I was walking. To her credit, she apologized profusely, both on the phone, and in person. Before she could get to the in-person part, I got to do my humility stint by being utterly unable to find the place without repeated guidance over the cell phone - she even had to go out front and wave me down. But I got there, and managed a good performance of humility with gratitude - which garnered me the comment that I was a lot better than some of the other folks she'd encountered (same problem! heh).
Now to the actual "hearing test" - all told, the setup was about what I'd expect from a dispenser (not an audiologist office). I was actually resigned to my fate already, but the technician wasn't! She looked at the letter the DOR sent me and declared "[she] must have goofed - I'm pretty sure they want a state licensed audioligist - they weren't supposed to send you to us!" - I couldn't but agree in principle, but, you see, I had worked so very hard to get there! I must have looked something like the rabbit right before the fox pounces, because the technician decided to ask her supervisor (who figures more prominently later), and he OK'd the test anyway [lest the reader forget, I'm "indigent" and these people know it - they won't be getting a dime anytime soon that doesn't come from the DOR].
So into their portable soundproof booth I went, and did the beepy button thing. The tech lady tried to get fancy and do the bone conduction thing, but she was having trouble getting her (unfamiliar - recall they'd relocated - the office was a disaster) machine to do the requisite narrow-band masking noise for the non-test side [the experienced HOH people just got their revenge for my slights above]. So she called back her supervisor (fuzzy relationship detection) and he twaddled around with it a bit - then declared it functionally useless, along with the speech recognition test, which wasn't happening today. He let me know I needed to reschedule to get the complete test, because the equipment they needed was at their other office. I think I surprised him by being utterly tractable - I just wanted out of there, at that point. I remember thinking "this will make a long blog post" - so right I was.
In talking to me, this supervisor (I know his name, but I'll call him Bill), queried me about my hearing aids, which I'd mentioned on the intake form, and which, in fact, I had with me. I wound up telling Bill the summary version of my "story", and apparently I twanged a couple of his heart strings in the process. He had some trouble believing the reported behavior of my capricious left HA, and wanted a look at it, so I let him look and play with his stethoscope rig. My issue had been that the aid would "fade out to dead" after a few minutes of usage, battery be damned. He couldn't repeat that scenario on his rig, but I got the effect immediately upon mounting the aid in my ear. It was "intermittent". Bill's eyes lit up then - he was sure I had a "tube problem" - not a problem with the electronics. I let him fiddle with the tube, and then he cleaned it.
It had been at least 6 months, probably closer to 9, since I'd walked around "aided". Though my right (ear) aid was assistive in the pair, it was almost useless alone, so without a functional left, I'd never bothered. You've no doubt guessed my outcome above. Bill said he thought the tube probably had some water in it, and that didn't sound wrong to me, as I'd remembered a rainy day as one of the last good ones. I couldn't do anything but shake Bill's hand and thank him profusely before walking out into the world fully aided again.
Incompetence, ineptitude - this story is full of both, isn't it? Everyone else's - and mine. My whole point in writing about this is that those features of humanity have always driven me nuts, and still can, from time to time. But this time I came home from the circus with a grateful heart. Vive la difference? It's the promises, again. I was able to walk through my crazy world without panic or even any serious high blood pressure. And nobody (including me) needed to have a bad day. Life on life's terms - acceptance. It's a wonderful way to live.
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Life in the Modern World - Job Applications Online
For many weeks now, I've been seeking employment; in the process, submitting applications by what has become the most common method for most companies of significant size - and many smaller ones as well: online via a corporate website, or via email.
Let me say at the outset that this is quite a welcome change from past methods, with the huge advantage being that I can submit many applications in a single day - greatly improving my odds in the currently horrific job market.
Needless to say, submitting by email is by far the easiest method in general - assuming one has all the information the job posting requests (e.g., cover letter, resume, and other requested details in "electronic" format). Occasionally I've encountered limitations (like "text only" resume requests) that complicate matters somewhat, but with my personal (technology) background, said complications are minor nuisances rather than show-stoppers.
The real inspiration for this post is the online application process via corporate or institutional websites. Again, one is best off to be prepared with all the details in electronic form - and most (but not all!) company websites will accept uploads of resumes and (in some cases) cover letters, etc. Some really snazzy websites will even do a pretty good job of parsing an uploaded resume into an online application - (like the "real" world, both are normally required) filling out some of the application fields for you. Those, of course, are the "snazzy" ones - as you might guess, it's some of the not-so-snazzy ones that drive this applicant nuts.
Not very often, but too often for a dedicated job seeker, one of these "Webby Apps" (as I call them - computer programs run on a server, and presented via the Internet) fails miserably to complete the (employment) application process. Either the website will take a major "Internal Server Error" - shutting down the whole application process - or what I call the "play through" of the designed application procedure will be so fraught with glitches and limitations (e.g., maximum text lengths), that creating an effective application is virtually impossible. In these situations, I'm led to wonder if the company in question is serious about taking employment applications online at all.
I've even encountered a situation where I successfully submitted an application for a job I neither desired nor was qualified for - because the website had the job posting number cross-referenced with two entirely different positions! In other words, I applied for one job, and was congratulated for applying for the other. I may never find out which position I actually applied for in that case.
All told, it's a good thing I consider my daily online job search process as part of "my current job" - meaning I expect to work at it; meaning (like all work) there are challenges and frustrations as a matter of course, along with the successes. I also consider this process (along with my entire lifestyle right now) an adventure - turning over rocks (be they heavy or light) to see what wriggles out - knowing that eventually I'll get rewarded with a prize catch.
Ever hopeful, and still blessed...
Let me say at the outset that this is quite a welcome change from past methods, with the huge advantage being that I can submit many applications in a single day - greatly improving my odds in the currently horrific job market.
Needless to say, submitting by email is by far the easiest method in general - assuming one has all the information the job posting requests (e.g., cover letter, resume, and other requested details in "electronic" format). Occasionally I've encountered limitations (like "text only" resume requests) that complicate matters somewhat, but with my personal (technology) background, said complications are minor nuisances rather than show-stoppers.
The real inspiration for this post is the online application process via corporate or institutional websites. Again, one is best off to be prepared with all the details in electronic form - and most (but not all!) company websites will accept uploads of resumes and (in some cases) cover letters, etc. Some really snazzy websites will even do a pretty good job of parsing an uploaded resume into an online application - (like the "real" world, both are normally required) filling out some of the application fields for you. Those, of course, are the "snazzy" ones - as you might guess, it's some of the not-so-snazzy ones that drive this applicant nuts.
Not very often, but too often for a dedicated job seeker, one of these "Webby Apps" (as I call them - computer programs run on a server, and presented via the Internet) fails miserably to complete the (employment) application process. Either the website will take a major "Internal Server Error" - shutting down the whole application process - or what I call the "play through" of the designed application procedure will be so fraught with glitches and limitations (e.g., maximum text lengths), that creating an effective application is virtually impossible. In these situations, I'm led to wonder if the company in question is serious about taking employment applications online at all.
I've even encountered a situation where I successfully submitted an application for a job I neither desired nor was qualified for - because the website had the job posting number cross-referenced with two entirely different positions! In other words, I applied for one job, and was congratulated for applying for the other. I may never find out which position I actually applied for in that case.
All told, it's a good thing I consider my daily online job search process as part of "my current job" - meaning I expect to work at it; meaning (like all work) there are challenges and frustrations as a matter of course, along with the successes. I also consider this process (along with my entire lifestyle right now) an adventure - turning over rocks (be they heavy or light) to see what wriggles out - knowing that eventually I'll get rewarded with a prize catch.
Ever hopeful, and still blessed...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Me
December 2009
Vertigo - Meniere's
.jpg)
Credit: http://djembeslappin.blogspot.com/2007/10/menieres-hell.html
