Free at last! Free at last!

I lead this one off with a little bit of heavy philosophy that reflects some of the shit that's led me to this point.

"As a traveler, you're not here to judge, but to experience... it no longer crushes you that some are greater - or lesser - than you are."

- Gene Roddenberry, 1976

Last night was, I hope, my final night working in the security business. It is truly my hope that I can use the flexibility of the cab driver world to counter attack my financial woes and regain my footing in the entertainment world. Basically, get a few bucks together from heavy work periods, pay for classes, network, be ready to push the button on the cab that says "off duty" when those auditions come up. For want of a better word, cab driving is that one thing I believe I can do that will give me that "traveler's flexibility" that I want within this city. Security is most definitely what I would call a "destination profession." You arrive. You advance to another destination and fulfill a role. Repeat the cycle and have people pat you on the back 30 years later for building a career on the backs of other people who are trying to get to the destination you're at by stopping at those other destinations along the way. This leads me to a little something I'd like to call...

An Ode to The Security Business

A little more than a year ago, when I took a job supervising for the folks over at [insert petrochemical company name here], my manager at the time told me, "at my very core, I've always been a very good basic security officer." Now I pretty much took this to mean that he considered himself a mentor to the inexperienced in this business, and he was and still is, but it also led me to wonder just how long does it take before you can actually say that and mean it?

My own security career had been an on and off affair of the last 25 years, me picking up the work when I didn't have anything else to fall back on. I liked it, the work was always simple and unfortunately it was also fairly cheap. You weren't going to get a "homes for heroes" discount on your home loan doing security because 1.) you'd never make enough money to qualify and 2.) no one thinks of the average security officer as a damn "hero" in the same way firefighters, police and corrections officers are viewed. However, the best I can figure about what makes a really great security officer are actually a very small set of skills that have to be executed really well before you can say that you are great at the basics. These are:

1.) Customer service - namely, the whole making people feel like their wants and needs in your place of business are important and deserve addressing in a timely manner. No one likes being treated as if they're interrupting something, especially if it's something that's unimportant-looking, to bring a legitimate concern to the table at your place of business. What that boils down to is simply acting in a manner that expresses and shares interest in the issue with the person(s) seeking help. That's it. Really.

2.) Looking for the unusual so you know what the unusual looks like. Another saying among the people who think they're great basic security officers is, "if you drop me in the desert with a stack of DARs and some water, I'll find a way to secure that desert." In the security profession, you're paid to be a living extension of management's eyes and ears. In fact, you're supposed to use as many of your senses (usually not the sense of taste, for obvious reasons) as possible to look for those things that may cause losses for those people.

3.) Communication. If you can read and write well, plus effectively get ideas from your brain to another, then you will have a long and fruitful career in the security business.

So, why is it that a few great security officers (or people who have these skills) don't just settle in and make the industry great and make great money at it? The problem is two-fold.

A.) The bottom tier of the industry is populated by those making sub-standard wages, and therefore most folks who try security as a profession usually end up treating it like a transitory profession instead of a destination profession.

B.) The good ones either end up getting promoted too quickly or find something else that's more of a challenge than being a front-line security supervisor or manager. Example, I was on the job at [insert petrochemical company name here] for less than three weeks when I was approached to be one of the brand spanking new shift leads. Any profession that you can quit, rejoin, quit again, and rejoin and someone is ready to hand you chevrons and bars coming in the door is one where the revolving door provides opportunity to the qualified, but can also frustrate people who stick out their tenures in without ever knowing that their bosses think they're fuck-ups that they'll never promote.

The other two-pronged problem with security is the fact that it's a consumer-driven industry whereby companies constantly underbid and undercut each other by offering lower man-hour rates to try drumming up business. However, the supposed goal of the security business is one in which they promise "high-quality people" who perform altruistic duties such as walking patrols in the rain and snow so million-dollar a year suits don't have to do it. So basically, millionaire security managers negotiate contracts with millionaires in steel and glass towers to create little $8.50 an hour altruistic minions while they change money from one hand to another. And if you're lucky you put all those skills I mentioned above to work and you rise to middle management with the larger security companies. If not, you're stuck on a post you don't want to work at and you might have to go to another company and try slugging your way up again with only one or two of those skills.

Here's the really deceitful part of the security business is, though. If you're one of those hopeless fuck-ups who can't put any of those skills together, you're not going to be told by your management team (with most companies) that you need to improve your education or other skills to advance. You're just going to get used. You become the pack mule of the business. I've seen guys like this too, who are always line officers or first line supervisors who never advance. You can give guys really simple tasks and they run with them okay and they should be able to show someone else how to do those tasks. And they're also the wise guys who are second guessing the boss because they don't have enough brain cells to rub together to design and implement an entire security system, but they've been "working in security for twenty years."

As a suitable transition, that's why I paid no mind to the loudmouth in my first two days of cab driving classes at Yellow who kept on yammering the fuck on about all his "driving experience." This "experience" also included fun experiences like auto accidents - which I assume I'm going to be in because people are drawn to yellow like moths to flames - and all the shilling and back door deals he was willing to be a part of. I know where my lines are drawn, and I don't need this prick trying to erase them for me. Because, of course, he was also more than willing to share the fact that he had a court date to attend regarding some of those details before the city would issue him his hack license.

Fancy that.

I, on the other hand, contacted the City today and found out my fingerprints and backgrounds had cleared. And while I'm not much of a Bible quoter I remember this passage.

"Know ye the truth young man, and the truth shall set ye free."

Free is good.

The other side of doing things the right way was putting in a two week notice from my security job and making a clean break instead of trying to dovetail the two jobs together. My work schedule at the security job and the classes were overlapping and I was risking life and limb to take the first two classes and screwing up my sleep.

Brother, I'm not 23 anymore. That crap doesn't work like it used to. Basically, I finish classes, take my driver physical and get my city hack license and go get my airport badge and I'm ready to rock by about next Thursday. And, with the first day's lease of 9 bucks, I'm bound to make up any lost financial ground from not working most of that week. It started out as an idea to get a second job to bolster a flagging income during a screwball economy. It may end up being the best thing I've done. If it isn't, I have my fallback plan.

Namely, I finally cave in and give that old security industry what it wants... another manager.

In other news, I saw a film about a guy who was too stuck on his destinations to realize he was on a journey: The Wrestler. It had two things in it I wanted to see, on the surface, anyway.

Marisa Tomei, nekkid... and Mickey Rourke on steroids.

Basically, it spoke to me about my own performing career and some of the disappointments I had because I thought I had "arrived" in certain places. However, with a broader brush, this movie can speak to a lot of people who are stuck in a certain aspect of their lives and it points out the potential hazards of not doing the hard work to change who and what you are when those facets of yourself are hurting you. In fact, a lot of people almost look at this as something of an autobiography for Mickey because of people's perception that he's always been a self-destructive personality. One critic went so far to call the film the "resurrection of Mickey Rourke." Note to the critic... if he fucks it up again, then it's going to be a damn short resurrection in the minds of the talking heads who created it in the first place. Personally, I enjoyed watching him in Sin City a couple years ago and I don't remember anyone from that film saying, "I'm never working with that bastard again." So my guess is that the rumors of Mickey's demise are a little exaggerated and the resurrection is just as contrived.

Of course, that kind of leads me back to this. Namely, that my going into the cab driving business is proof that I can re-make myself. I can change and still give myself what I need to not only survive, but stay flexible enough to contribute to those projects that have a place for a "broken down piece of meat" (a quote from the movie) like me. Since my next class isn't until the day after the Super Bowl (sue me, fuckers, I dare you), I have this little 4-day weekend to kind of re-set myself, get used to sleeping during the night again and get ready for the transformation.

Peace, out...

GM

So... I just finished Melissa Plaut's book HACK. Actually, as is often my wont, I also started it tonight. It was about 6 hours of dealing with the bureaucratic asstasticness that is New York's Taxi and Limousine Authority, people who think they're better than you are and seeing the strange and unusual somehow become fertile and beautiful. In spite of the fact that she'd portrayed some of the more negative aspects of the job (and let's face it, very few books sell that only have bubble gum, sunshine and farts in them... bring on the conflict), it was not a completely un-hopeful tale.

In fact, she's a woman after my own heart. No, not in that romantic way. Here I am, college-educated, with an interesting amount of experience (read here 5+ years) in more than one professional field and I'm looking at performing that most basic of tasks - shuffling carbon atoms from one point on the surface of the Earth to another. Granted, those atoms would be arranged in a sentient fashion, but carbon atoms nonetheless.

I'm postponing my start until the first week in February to finish off my two week notice with my current employer. My remaining "cab business classes" were going to overlap with my remaining 12 hour shifts, causing some major sleep deprivation issues. Getting myself killed in a crackup in my personal vehicle was NOT my idea of getting started in a driving job of any kind.

It's almost like my cat knew I when I was getting close to the end of the book, too. About four pages away, she started some yawny mewling as if to say "It's your bedtime, fucker! Get on it!"

Anyway... I leave you with these LOLcats.



moar funny pictures

And, the Celebration Carried ON....

Basically, what started as my idea to drive a cab part time for a few weeks to ease myself gently out of my security job has transmogrified into "HOLY CRAP, let's get this off the ground as quickly as possible."

Translation: I put in my two week notice for my security job today.

Security is a profession that, by nature, doesn't necessarily recruit the best and brightest to its front ranks. And unfortunately, not only do people who run the business understand that, but the people who hire individual companies also get it. The hypocrisy of that business is the fact that when both the service provider and the service buyer both know that there's a case of providing inferior product and receiving inferior product, they tend to joust around each other until someone like me shows up refusing to have a bad day of work in uniform. Then, guys like me get used until we either find better security gigs or something else that strikes our fancy.

My last two days in class over at Yellow Cab confirmed for me that my general horsesense, refusal to sell out to the general negativity of the "veteran drivers" who somehow haven't driven a cab in more than 10 years and have been lured back by the even-handed computer dispatching system instead of having their fares swooped, customer service abilities, and just plain smarts have told me that I'm going to do well at this. I still have two more classes to take, and I have to integrate those around my existing 12 hour work days. Considering the sleep-dep crunk I dealt with the last two days because of having to do that, making those two classes last two weeks is just fine with me.

My boss at the security company is taking me up on my offer to write post orders for the place I'm leaving, so any future generations can ultimately learn how to work there instead of guessing what people want done out there. I've written post orders before. Christ on a stick, what haven't I written yet? Honestly. You tell what you want written, and what voice it needs to speak in, I'll write the shit. And that leads me to...

True mobile...

Give the folks at Cricket some credit... they're building their network capacity in Houston out to where people with some of their better cel phones are starting to not have all the dropped calls that they used to. It still isn't perfect. However, it was enough to convince me to try the mobile broadband they're offering instead of trying to get roped into another 2 year commitment to AT&T for something I'm not that sure of. The idea, in my mind, is that during my cab driving experiences I can use the mobile broadband connection, in concert with Houston's Transtar website, to determine where the asstastic traffic on certain highways might be. Also, I scored a power converter for a cigarette lighter socket to run my laptop on. I tried both of those in concert this afternoon and I got decent bars on the broadband in a couple of different places where my Cricket calls used to drop and the power converter was just fine and dandy at keeping power running to the lappy. So the one step up from that is when I get my owner-operator vehicle (some time next month from the looks of things), I go one better and score a laptop mount so I'm not reaching down to the front passenger seat. Otherwise, I'm technologically ready to rock in the manner I'm accustomed to.

Also there will be the advantage of using my Dreamweaver installation to update my cabbie site on the run and let folks know whether or not I'm still on-duty for a particular day. When I go O & O, there will be business cards and a website which will integrate this blog and other things.

Finally, I did a little celebrating today when I realized that the right thing to do was just go ahead and cut the security job loose. On those days, I can probably make better money driving the hack during the daytime and getting back to doing what I do best sleep-wise... do it at night. I have to admit, as much of a night owl as I used to be - and I still insist on working nights in the security business - my body just likes it better when I sleep at that time of day. I took myself to the local PF Changs and rocked some double pan fried dan dan noodles with chicken, slivered cucumber, carrots and celery. GRUBBIN. And, I followed that up with two cheesecake shots. Totally bad for me. Totally loved it.

Also, some time in the near future, I should be getting my copy of Melissa Plaut's book HACK. My heart goes out to those guys and gals in New York. They're over-regulated and just plain beat on at times. In any case, I want to dive in and check out the war stories. My own book about my time in the anime business, There's Always Room For a Good One, will probably have some of the beginnings of my time in the hack business since this is where things have transitioned to.

Closing this out for now, it's not like I think my time in anime has come to a close like I had panicking a couple of weeks ago, but I've definitely accepted this time as a huge slowdown. Slow enough, in fact, that I can look at the previous 6 years as the real gift, a time in which I was privileged to make a contribution that may have actually been slightly greater than the talent I brought to it. Honestly, the longer of a perspective I look back at this at, the more I realize that there were far more people with far greater experience who made smaller contributions. I'm pretty sure the only reason why I got a shot at doing what I did and as often as I did it was my own damned stubbornness and insistence on never taking the first "no" (thanks for that Rocket-man, it made me work that much harder) for an answer.

-Manley

Baby Steps

So... in case you're wondering...

I rolled into the Houston Yellow Cab office on Thursday and had an interesting interview with the person who, for a better word, wrangles the new cabbies. She seemed like a nice lady with some interesting insights into her business and the way it runs in Houston. Naturally, I'm not walking into this with my eyeballs taped shut. I knew that I was going to get the rosiest possible picture painted, but I'm glad she wasn't BSing me, either.

Basically, I told her about my current work situation. Namely, that I was working Sunday through Wednesday night and I wanted to make MORE on my weekends, at least as a start. She was beaming when I told her I was available Thursday through Saturday. I figured those are hot button days to work in the cab business. So, she started going over nuts and bolts with me.

BTW - the actual company name is "Greater Houston Transportation Company," which includes Houston Yellow, Greater Houston Cab Company and a Spanish-speaking arm, Taxis Fiesta. I assume that this allows the company to operate in cities other than Houston in the Harris County area. The first, which I enjoyed, was the fact that they run a shuttle service for prospective "enrollees" (not employees, apparently) to take folks and their paperwork to the Houston courthouse annex where their warrants are checked. There's a humorous story attached to this later, of course. Then, the same shuttle runs folks out to the airport to get their fingerprints and apply for their airport badge. I know some cities require a separate airport permit, so I'm glad that GHTC integrates this into their entry process. I get handed the applications for the City and Airport System, which have a curious item attached.

References.

Now, here's the thing. Normally, when you apply for a job, you write in your own references, their addresses and telephone numbers and your employer never calls. In the City application, they want your references to complete the form themselves and SIGN the goddamned form. Whoa. Granted, my reaction is based at least in part on the fact that I've never done it that way before. Another part is based on the fact that I've held at least a dozen security jobs in my lifetime, and no one's ever checked my references. Again, this is related to the humorous story I will share with you later (see me completely whoring the payoff on this?). How do I know this? The references I usually use are guys I can count on to say, "Hey, this bozo called me about you." This is especially true in the entertainment business because we all want to tell the other guy, "Hey, brah, I put in a good word for you with this guy when he was wondering what you've got under the hood." Otherwise, one of the biggest self-serving bullshit stories in small business is that your references get checked. Unless you're working for a business with heavy security concerns, you're lucky to get your criminal background checked, let alone your references.

Lesson: cities are serious about at least looking like they're interested in your character as a cab driver.

We shook hands, she complimented me on my shirt and I left her office wondering where I was going to track down some references. I didn't have to wonder for long.

One of the long term relationships I've cultivated in the entertainment business has been the 5-year association I've had with Taping For The Blind in Houston. I started looking for a while to give my time and talents after cancer took my mother all those years ago. I originally started by trying to pitch myself to the local Cancer Society office as a guy who could produce PSAs for them for free, and they decided to complain about how folks put their commercials on in the middle of the night. So, in circuitous fashion, I wound up at Taping as a way of using my talents to give to a group of people who could benefit the best from them. Regardless of how the cab-driving goes, I will always record for them. In fact, today, I decided to roll in and record my weekly show for Sports Illustrated. I've been doing SI for the last 2-plus years and I'd just come off a holiday where I wasn't able to make it in the last couple of weeks.

I collected my references. =)

They answered questions like "is he trustworthy," "does he have good character," "does he abuse alcohol or do drugs." Lucky for me, not all of their answers were "yes."

So, the next day, I caught the shuttle and had an interesting conversation with an Airport Security Officer, who decided to tell me that a 12 dollar an hour job was waiting for me at the airport if driving a cab ever gets stale. Somehow, I get the feeling that it's not going to be the same job every day, other than the driving part. I suppose that I'm one of the weirdoes, in that I fully expect that maintain a positive attitude consider that I do the same thing on the job I currently have. There are a lot of sadsacks in the contract security business and I've always been complimented on my ability to work with people. I just get the feeling that I'll do at least a little better than what most people expect. Hell, I know what my prejudices about the profession are. Sure enough, I met a few folks that didn't disappoint me.

I ran into a guy I seemed to have seen before. He was constantly jabbering and friendly... kind of like someone who was really happy to just have a chance to be alive and free. He was a little older, and completely full of shit - especially when he started bragging about having knowledge of "every nightclub in town." A new one opens all the time, and not every rave has an address, but get on with your bad self. However, he also seemed to recognize me, but he wasn't sure of my goatee. And I said, "So, Stringfellow, huh?" His eyes grew wide and I said, "It's all good, brah. If you've done your time and paid back, you're good with me."

I'd seen this guy during my very short time as a cadet with the Texas Department of Criminal Justice, and he was an inmate at one of the Ramsey unit prisons. Like I said, if he's paid up, then he deserves a chance to make a dollar and be a part of society. You don't put people in jail to not have them come back out. The thing that actually had my stomach churning a little was I think I actually had to strip-search this cat... and I think that's why he had the saucer-eyes, too.

Anyway, I got my warrants checked at the city and the airport seemed to love me (being able to swap war stories with the security staff didn't hurt). However, my friend from the prison system was denied the opportunity to pick up at the airport. He can drop off all he wants, but he can't pick up - where is most of the money comes from for cabbies since most off-the-airport-strip hotels have their own airport shuttle services for free. So, you have to go get the people who want to leave the airport and go home (or a hotel) directly instead of sharing a shuttle with the masses.

I came back and the customer service ladies asked me when I could take my classes. Yep, GHTC actually has four days of classes before they'll let you go out in one of their cars. Since I work 12-hour watches Sunday-Tuesday plus half of Wednesday, they approved me to bite the bullet and take the Wednesday and Thursday classes first, and then pepper in the Monday and Tuesday classes over the course of the next 2 weeks. That time frame pretty much fits, since it's at least 10-14 days to get my airport badge and city taxi license. So, at the very least, I'm going to be working security for another 4 weeks, probably 6 to 8 - and then I'll drive Thursday to Saturday until I get my owner-operator opportunity.

The transition in has been laid out in a manner that can be as easy as possible, really. My first day's lease on a cab will be $9 and then go up gradually until I reach the maximum of $97.50 a day. By then, I'll definitely be pounding down the door of the boss lady to talk an O&O opportunity and a monthly lease on a cab of my choice, instead of the wunderbox of the week.

Oh yes, the humorous story... or maybe, not so humorous, depending on how you look at it. Last night, after my security company called me into work the day before and I told them I wasn't available for anything else this weekend. I re-explained myself and then got the sob story from the field supervisor who was sitting the post, "Well, the dumb lady we put out here got pulled over by the police and she had warrants... and..."

And, you didn't do a background check to see if her warrants were clear? Have fun sitting the post. I enjoyed my Saturday night off. It may be one of my last for a while. I probably won't blog again until I've finished the classes. It ought to be fun to see how that goes.

-ManMan

The Beginning

...and all the trappings that go with them.

The odyssey of the last 18 months has been a strange one on my little brain.

DISCLAIMER: I knew that, coming to Houston, I was not going to be a "name" in this anime business.  The fact that some people actually enjoy my work, because I sound like a Darth Vader who smokes (thank the parents for that, BTW), is nothing less than inspiring to me.  Frankly, there are a lot of people who don't know what I've done and that's perfectly fine.  I came here to work, not to be famous.  Regardless, the falloff in the anime industry still caught me somewhat by surprise.  As a result, I've lost a house and damn near wound up on the streets because I was waiting for something else to fill the void.

Note to the casual observer: if you're capable of handling a shovel, fill your own voids. 

The fact is, thanks to my physical condition, I'm not a terribly pretty thing to stick in front of the camera.  This drastically reduces what my agent can get me because a large part of what they have to offer, other than voiceover, is related to the few film or industrial projects that roll through here.  And, again, because of my pipes and my generation's "backlash" against men who sound like their fathers selling them things, there isn't as much commercial voiceover work for me as one might think.  I do warm and friendly as well as the next guy...  just deeper and more authoritatively.

Frankly, for anyone who is my age and working in the advertising business.  I'm tired of your "daddy" issues.  Grow up, already.  We're all parents, now, in one form or another.  If you haven't raised your own kids yet, chances are good that you've at least mentored someone in your own line of business who's younger than you are.  And, wouldn't ya know it, you probably weren't the least bit threatening to them.

[/soapbox]

Regardless, I understand that the market for "me" has a certain window and focus to it that can't suddenly be widened.  I went up to DFW to record a role many months back that wound up on the cutting room floor because, in at least one person's estimation, I sounded "too old" in spite of the character obviously being a 7 foot tall 350 pound bruiser.  I'm sure every guy who's built like that sounds like a Brady Bunch kid, but by the same token, it's not like I didn't get paid for my work.  I just think of the waste and shake my head.  I am, of course, thankful to the friend who had the faith in me to cast me in the first place.

It's actually been a year since I finished writing Pumpkin Scissors for ADV, a property that's now in the hands of FUNImation.  I don't know if anyone's line-producing that product since it's already finished, but if there are any questions about the series you might want to remember that you've got Charlie Campbell spot directing for you and I'm not hard to find, either.  Kyodatsu Syndrome, if anyone's wondering.  I don't lament the work I'm not doing in that realm anymore, either.  If the market opens back up, those skills haven't left me either.  I've learned so much about storytelling by being able to tinker with and manuver inside a finished product and see how other folks construct their tales that I simply have improved my own art as a result.  You can't give that experience back, and I sure wouldn't want to.

BTW - these are not criticisms.  They are the way certain things happened and my own reactions to them.  Decision makers get paid to make decisions based on their own experiences, not mine. The other artists involved in these processes are people I respect and treasure, and it's my hope I don't otherwise hack them off with my catharsis.

However, there's one thing that pretty much evaporated in the process like mogas sitting in a bucket on a hot summer day.  (All the ex-soldiers know what I'm talking about).  That thing was a certain sense of independence.

I never made a lot of money when I was supporting myself with my acting and writing income, but I only had to sweat my projects. 

Now this, in and of itself, was a double-edged sword.  As an actor, you can't put "extra effort" into things like self-promotion.  You send out too many demo reels, headshots and resumes to people who don't want to see them, and you get the reputation of being amateurish in your self-promotion and more than a little psychotic.  You try going to and buying up every class you can take, your money dries up on you and you get a reputation of "well, I see the guy in classes a lot, but never on a set anywhere."  And frankly, during my "down" periods between projects, this was tough to take.  In my former professions, I could always go to the boss and say "Hey, boss!  Gimme another role in the organization, I'm ready to contribute more."  Then, I would put on my new hat, along with my other responsibilities, and eventually be rewarded for taking on more than Joe Average in those places where I worked.  It was a great system.

In the entertainment business, you do this, and people say "Hey, asshole, we'll call you when we need you."  Period.  The fact is, that superior ambition does not suddenly create acting roles for guys who are under 6 feet tall and over 300 pounds (as I've often been these last 5 or so years) with the deep voice that sounds like OMNIDAD.  These are all truths.  I accept all of them.  The problem is, I'm wired like a servitor droid who likes to WORK HIS ASS OFF.  Other than the entertainment business, I've always earned promotions in every profession I've ever tried.  In the entertainment business, you are what you have to offer.  And, since my disease effectively limits my ability to exercise, my only "promotion" I could give myself - in the form of a more chiseled physique - is not that easily attainable.  I get a little cocky at times like now when I can walk around my place of work up to 10 hours a night.  Then, I get brought crashing back to earth when I have to kneel next to a mannequin to give it CPR a couple of days and both of my legs make a sound that scares the shit out of my classmates.

That sound... the sound of two broken ratchets: the clattering of swollen menisci under both my kneecaps.  Then, and only then, I remind myself there may never be the heavy hanging and banging in the gym that occasionally gave me an acceptable looking physique in my 20s.  Of course, I won't kid myself about that, either.  It was only when I was practicing tae kwon do 3 or more times a week that I had the cardio workouts that made my body match where my mind wanted to go.

Anyway, the point is that the market for the "best me I can be" (as my first agent put it) is mighty slim, got slimmer and almost got away from me. 

Last year, I took my third swing at Securitas - who rewarded my experience with a supervisory position.  I then bolted to the Texas Department of Criminal Justice to try corrections, and ran screaming once I came to my senses.  And, here I am, working security again.  I had an interesting conversation with my client the other day.

"You're the best guard we've ever had."

"That's probably why I prefer the title 'security officer.'"

"What do you mean?"

"A 'guard' is someone you pay to be a roadblock.  An 'officer' is someone who occupies a position of trust in your organization and handles security issues with proactive measures, an attitude of customer service and forges strong relationships based on communication."

"Wow, that's a great notion.  You're right, you are a security officer."

"Thank you.  And, since I'm the best you've had working for you, and I'm kind of doing the paycheck to paycheck thing, I was wondering if you'd be interested in having me out here more hours per week to get me some overtime or perhaps negotiating a raise with me since I know my boss won't approach you with it."

"Gee, I'm sorry.  We're on a budget here and I can only get you what you're already getting."

"So, let me get this straight.  You pull down more than a quarter million dollars in rent receipts every month, you pay your office staff salaries that rival some of the people who live here and give them discounted and free apartments within your property system and I'm the ABSOLUTE BEST at what I do, and that's only worth $8.50 an hour with no benefits?"

*stunned silence follows*

"You all are good people here.  Don't sweat it.  And, by the way, you were right after all, not me."

"What do you mean?"

"At that price, I'm the best GUARD you've ever had.  Just don't plan on keeping me around at that price."

"I understand."

In other words, at this point, it's MY fault for settling for less than what I can bring to the table in my own life.  I'm one class away from finishing my medical transcription diploma with Penn Foster, and I don't plan on making it my profession any time soon.  I've done enough research, post-hype, and found that I might not be as happy with it as I had originally envisioned.  However, I don't quit things, either.  I'll get the rag, hang it on my wall, and say "hey, lookie!  More edjumuhcation for me!"  Like the last couple of years, it's something I've learned that I can't and won't give back.

So, where does that leave me, exactly?  Some day, that phone's going to ring with a potential acting or writing job.  Where do I put the flexibility back into my schedule?  Do I give up? 

I damn near did.

I actually emailed my agent about a month ago when I got the notion to pick up a second job and told them, "look, if you want to drop me from the roster because I'm not going to be that available, I understand."

However, I may not have been looking for the right second job.  Ideally, the "right" second job would be one that would help get my foot in the door, make the transition easy, allow me to contribute as much or as little to the cause as I need to and allow me to wear as many different hats in the organization as I can, but still give me time and/or days off if I'm called back to the world of the actor and the scribe.

Wait, that's actually a pretty good description of my ideal first job.  And, if all goes well, I've found it.

In about two weeks, I will be going to work for Yellow Cab as an independently contracted cab driver.  By the end of March, I'm hoping to be an owner-operator.

Imagine, if you will (just love hearing Dusty Rhodes' voice when I type that), getting that call from your agent.  You push one button in your cab and tell the dispatcher that you're going "to lunch."  Maybe a half hour... maybe three hours.  And then, when I'm done with that gig or audition, I push that button, and I'm being sent to drive people around again.

Holy.

Shit.

Why didn't I think of this sooner?  And then it dawns on me... when I first got to town.  Only, I didn't know how to drive around here that well.  Nowadays, I do pretty well for myself.  And, frankly, I have to admit I love nothing more than driving around in my truck and listening to sports talk radio or classic rock or spoken word in between jobs or rounds or whatever.  Hell, I'm one laptop mount and wireless internet away from practically living in the damn thing anyway.  So, yeah... why not?

I probably strike a lot of you as the potentially "hard boiled cabbie" type, anyway, right?  =)

Here's to the future, no matter what it brings.