#careerdays

I watched one of the bands I primarily showcased in my days as a concert promoter take a national stage at the Billboard Music Awards.

My Facebook feed brought pictures of a buddy I used to keep in touch with through the scene rubbing shoulders with Neil Patrick Harris, fresh off winning an Emmy for Visual Effects on "Game of Thrones."

The friend who actually "brokered" the deal for the first hall I ever rented to promote a concert in Old Bridge, NJ had gone into comedy... and found himself writing jokes for Norm Macdonald, the VMA's, and appearing on "Conan O'Brien."

I thought long and hard about my own situation.  What was I putting into the world?  What had I once been ambitious and semi-delusional to think I would leave as a legacy?  I sure as shit wasn't practicing at it.  These guys were all just like me, slackers on the surface who like all the same kinds of stuff.  We'd stand around VFW halls and Elks Lodges on weekends, blowing off our paying part-time jobs at the time, daring to dream that we could make this work.  And maybe we didn't all wind up where we should have been, but at least that creative urge was served.

I weighed this all in my mind for over a week.  I had been so scared to be poor, to forego security for a crapshoot.  It's not that I hadn't gambled before... but I had amassed enough debt as an undergrad to assume I couldn't be happy til it was all paid back.  I had lived to work for so long that I forgot it could be the other way around.  And that there ARE people who do the things I'd rather be doing.  That usually involved some sort of sacrifice, but yes, the passionate can be rewarded so long as they do the work.  It was time to bet the house on myself.

I gave my notice and started looking into anything I could do in my field.  Paid or not, temporary or permanent, I wasn't discriminant.  I was confident enough in my resume to reach for the stars.  After all, it's like Wayne Gretzky says, "You won't make 100% of the shots you take, but you will miss 100% of the ones you don't."  Within a few days of having a sit-down lunch with my boss, where I earned his blessing and support as I continued my "Kung Fu"-esque journey, I had two internships and a part-time job.

The internships were interesting.  One was at a one-woman show and would've maybe let me learn more about producing/writing for the stage.  I've given serious thought to pursuing a Master's in Theatre arts, as a way to complement my background in Media Studies and English, for whenever I get around to giving my resume to the WWE creative department.  I was to run their social media campaign, a task I felt more than qualified to handle, though I still had some things to learn.  But unfortunately, the other two positions I was offered would take too much of my time to give that my 100% attention.  So I had to decline, a first for me professionally.

The other internship was in the production office of a new company.  And on paper, it seemed like something I was going to want.  But after accepting and putting in a day's work, I found myself overwhelmed.  Not to say I couldn't handle it, but it was like being on another planet.  This was a Mac office, for starters, and I don't know how but I've been all-Windows since 1995.  There would be growing pains, fine.  But this company's first project was a non-fiction documentary and I quickly remembered how much I hate the task of researching.  Or at least, researching a subject that failed to interest me without getting paid to do it.  I couldn't offer much in terms of editing or filming or any other technical facets of production.  My entire college degree was analytical and based in theories, understanding the audience that wants to be entertained.  I have ideas.  But here I would be useless, and would stand to get nothing from the experience unless I chose to open my mind up to learning these skills.  And for some reason I didn't.  I faked the flu my second day, thought about it for a weekend, and wound up resigning before my third.  But more on this later.

The paid position was nothing special.  I would be running the social media campaign of a web-series.  I felt that after the work I did pushing the "Dick Punch" premieres on the internet, I'd have a lot to offer.  Plus, I was on Facebook most of the time anyway.  I met the dude behind the production, and it turned out he was just me with a little more experience, hustling from job to job and doing what he could as he could.  He offered me the position, saying I could come in once a week, smoke some pot there if I felt like it, make some friends with the musicians coming in and out of the place... it'd be real cool.  It all sounded cool!  But, I kid you not, a week later he canceled my first day on the job to take a gig out in LA, said he'd get back to me when he flew back in.  That was two months ago...

All wasn't lost.  I put in a day's work on a hip hop video shoot.  Complete with two Ferraris, a bunch of video girls, and a rooftop party with a real DJ.  I got to decorate a set.  Stepped out of my comfort zone and met some cool people, though in all actuality the most awkward work experience of my life.  So you can only imagine the level of "fuck my life" disbelief I experienced when my best friend informed me a Google search of the artist I worked with may make me want to think twice about putting his name on my resume.

But despite all these blows, I learned a lot about myself.  I learned what I didn't wanna do, and was now smart enough to not just keeping doing it anyway.  I had just walked off a full-time gig because it stopped feeling like "Oh, only I could possibly do this job."  No, if I was replaceable or honestly felt you could get someone a lot better or more interested in this job, I wouldn't do it miserably because "A job's a job."  That kinda mentality had driven me in circles, not forward.

I put in for a full-time job at a wrestling memorabilia shop.  It seemed like a good fit.  Not as a career necessarily, but I knew that back when I worked at West Coast Video, I never thought about quitting for a reason... it's possible to like your job.  Yeah, this would be good.  40 hours a week talking about pro wrestling, getting to be like the guys on "Comic Book Men," buying people's signed issues of Pro Wrestling Illustrated or WWF Hasbro action figures M.O.C.  I could totally do that til I figure out what's next.

And if that didn't work out, maybe I could move to Philly and finally pursue my pipe dream of training at the CHIKARA Wrestle Factory.  I had quit my job with enough money to job hunt for two months... that could work if I found a room to rent and a stable food service gig.  Maybe if I forced myself to move out, pay rent, and be an adult this could all finally happen.  I knew I couldn't afford to live in New York City for the rest of my life, another reason I wanted a better job than the one I had and had to start thinking long-term, so maybe I can at least get the relocating done.

I dunno.  Something would work out.  At least that's what I told my best friend when I ran into him... on a random Tuesday afternoon when I probably should have been working but instead was crumbing around 71st/Continental Avenue, seeing if that Mexican place is still open.  (It wasn't).

Then something did work out.

The production company called back.  The ones who were doing the documentary.  The ones I had resigned from with about a day's notice.  I didn't want to pick up the phone, as I was pretty high at the time.  But fine, I'd answer it.  She asked why I had quit.  Why was I thinking about leaving New York.  Where had I seen myself going in the industry.  What were my skillsets.  Did I want a job.  Not an internship, a paying job.  Would I meet with her boss for lunch.

Less than 24 hours later, it looked like her boss was going to be my boss.  Over Diet Cokes and bacon mushroom cheeseburgers, and a conversation about how the WWE is bullshit because "that midget motherfucker" Daniel Bryan should never be able to choke out Kane, he had laid it out that he liked me a lot.  That he saw a lot of himself in me and didn't wanna lose me that easily.  That he doesn't see me as an intern, but an Assistant.  And how would I like to make a sum of money substantially more than what I had just been making at a desk job.  Keep in mind... a week before I had agreed to work for this guy FOR FREE.

I accepted the job with a handshake and a promise that we'd be in touch.  I was on cloud nine.  I had been a little selfish for once and presented myself the way I had always seen myself.  It was as simple as that, a re-branding.  And it was already paying off.  A steady paying job in the film production industry, on the office/administrative side to boot, when I had initially been hungry enough to feast on unpaid temp work.

What could possibly knock me down?