Posts by Berck

It’s becoming more and more apparent that I’m not wanted in Pueblo. I have no idea why. But I’m starting to wrap my head around it. I’m trying to remember what it’s like to move, to tape up boxes and put things in them. The problem this time is, in the past, I’ve always been excited about the destination. This is the first time where, unless I move to Alaska, I’m not going to be that excited about geographic displacement.

Jonah’s convinced that if I don’t get the job in Pueblo, things will turn out for the better. She points out that, in fact, I was quite disappointed about not getting a job at Airman, and that really turned out quite well. To Jonah, this is evidence of divine stewardship that will continue. To me, it’s my one break, and now karma will come bite me in the ass. While I don’t have her faith, I do feel an attachment to a sort of providence that has, so far, not led me wrong. Whether I see this providence as something strictly divine, natural, or more likely, merely perceived doesn’t really matter. It doesn’t matter how I see it, or whether it exists– just that I have a perception of a sort of providence. And I agree, it hasn’t steered me wrong yet, but I have no faith. Where Jonah refuses to take control of her destiny, I feel that I must do my best regardless. Sure, perhaps providence will work in my favor, but it can’t hurt to do my best. And, the best things that have happened to me haven’t been mere chance– they’ve been the fruit of (sometimes misdirected) labor.

That’s a lot of words which probably don’t make a lot of sense. The short of it? Perhaps I have no control over my destiny, but I have to make decisions as though I do. Jonah, on the other hand, refuses to make decisions until her hand is forced. I’m convinced she’s wrong in this, but with only one of us making decisions, this whole thing is much easier.

So, I’ve embarked on a partial journey back through the blog to figure out if I was, indeed as disappointed as Jonah indicates. There’s no indication of such.

I asked if the flight school was going to be needing any flight instructors in the near future and he said, “Well, I’m actually trying to get a rid of a few right now.” So that doesn’t look terribly promising.

I’ve been trying to remember what it’s like to sit around all day and search for a job.

After I get out of bed, I shower and make a great effort not to ponder the likelihood of employment in my near future because I know that path leads to nothing but frustration and fear. I get dressed and anxiously hope that the few bits of email in my inbox are employment related, even though I know they’re not. Then I check my voicemail, just in case. I spend the rest of my day trying not to think about jobs or food and counting down the unknown number of hours until Joanna gets home. I anxiously switch between skimming the surface of the internet in the same old places, never delving too deeply, reading, and looking for new places to send resumes. I anxiously check the time until about noon when there’s a vague possibility of having been visited by the postman. At which point I begin a series of regular journeys to the mailbox, eagerly awaiting the opportunity to deposit the new found contents of the box into the trash can. At some point, after I round the corner, I’ll see the mail truck which means that I can return in half an hour to certain yet unexpected disappointment.

Oh, right, that’s what it’s like. I can’t wait. Except that now I’ll have a ton of studying to do as well.

But, anyway, priorities. Now that I’ve finally gotten my mind around the fact that I have to do something, a list of priorities has finally cemented itself in my mind. I’m not sure it’s a good list, or accurately reflects my wishes and goes, but it’s a list, and I best not think about it too much lest I wind up back at the beginning with nothing.

So here they are:

1. Work for the airlines.
   1. ASA
   2. Mesa
   3. Maybe Great Lakes, but I haven’t decided if I’m that desperate.
2. Find a job in Alaska that doesn’t involve flight instruction.
3. Find a job anywhere but Florida that doesn’t involve flight instruction
4. Work as a flight instructor in Prescott, Arizona

The airlines will take a lot of work, and are a long shot. The only real reason I want to do it is because I could keep living here. I’ll need to take the ATP written just to slightly up my chances. And study a whole bunch besides. Then I’ll need to try to remember what it’s like to fly instruments on Microsoft Flight Sim. Then I’ll need to hire a real instructor, and fly a real simulator. Then I’ll need to get an instrument proficiency check, so I can legally fly instruments again. Then I’ll need to go up in a multi-engine airplane at night, so I’m current. Then I can apply. And *if* I get an interview, then I have to pass a simulator check. Right.

The other jobs will be much simpler. Apply, hope for interviews, interview. Trouble is, there aren’t a lot of jobs I qualify for. Maybe the right one will come along. If not, I think that working in Arizona might not be too bad. Do it for a year, and I could probably do whatever else I wanted without too much trouble.

The stupid thing about searching for pilot jobs? It’s the only job market in the world where the unemployed have to *pay* to search job websites. Stupid.

We have a week left. Then we’re unemployed. Some of us are more screwed than others. I think I’m in the “more screwed” category.

I haven’t done anything substantial to locate another job. I’m gonna tell you right away I can’t wait another day, Amanda.

Most of the folks I work with are not the same folks I worked with a year ago. There are probably only 6 people or so who have been there longer than I. I don’t really seem to get along with most people remaining.

There are no good options. Like a guiding light to help me through my darkest hour, lately I’m a prayin’ you’ll always be a standin’ beside me.

Nathan just asked me if I plan to study most of August. I answered, “Or maybe drink.” I really don’t have any good ideas. Job-hunting in August, for sure. The problem is that any job I take is going to make substantially less than Joanna makes now, and Joanna has no ability to get a good job anywhere else in the world. I don’t want her to work in a factory again.

In some ways, I feel like I don’t belong in the sky. Why should I get to sit above everyone else stuck in traffic? Why should I get to avoid the drudgery of pushing paper or the sweat of real labor? Sometimes I think maybe I should get a job turning wrenches or pouring coffee for awhile to put a little perspective on things. Then I remember that I decided to fly planes to avoid pouring coffee.

I’ve started thinking that perhaps I don’t even want the job that I’ve said I want. Maybe I’m not meant to have it. And from what you said, I know you’ve gotten over me, it’ll never be the way it used to be. But if it’s gotta be this way, then don’t worry babe, I can take the news okay.

I’m both excited and mortified about the fact that I have no idea what life will be like week after next. I worry that Joanna will become annoyed with me. In some way, I should be happy that I’m being kicked in the ass and need to do something different, because I might stay here a very long time. But this is the first time I’ve felt any substantial geographic inertia. I don’t want to move. I like it here. Sure, I might like it better somewhere else, but for once, I like it *here*. That’s never happened before. I’ve hated everywhere else. There’s a lot keeping me here, so it’s tempting to say, “Okay, then look for jobs here.” But, there aren’t really any. There are some crappy instructor jobs up in Denver, and I may apply for them. But instructing for half the money and driving in Denver traffic every day does not a happy Berck make. There’s something dark about destiny, there’s something blue about you and me.

There’s instructor jobs in Tulsa.

So I post this one in compensation.

I don’t know if I like New York or not. I spent some effort trying to decide, but it doesn’t matter. While Jonah’s working on the narratives, I thought I would observate a bit.

As we drove away from the Denver airport, I noticed a light happy feeling that took a moment to place. I eventually realized that the feeling was one of escape. We escaped New York. I mentioned it to Joanna and she agreed. The top was down, the buildings were small, few and far between, the world was green and brown, and while it was currently hotter than New York, it was comfortable.

The city doesn’t care whether I like it or not. At some point I wondered whether the I♥NY shirts were government issue. What, exactly does I♥NY mean anyway?

I’m no stranger to the urban environment. I’ve been to Chicago many times now, and I can safely say that I liked a lot, from the very first time. While New York is urban, that fact seems unimportant. What is important?

The segregation. Racial segregation the most obvious as it’s blatant, accepted, encouraged and self-imposed. The name “Chinatown” or “Little Italy” seems somehow offensive. I think, perhaps, that racism is mostly dead but a far more reality-based cultralism has taken its place. Perhaps the city’s segments should be renamed to things like “Thugtown” and “Hipster Villiage.” But the most segregated place I’ve ever seen is, perhaps as a result of the shear density, the most diverse as well. My sister lives in Bedford-Stuyvesant, of which Billy Joel sang, “I walked through Bedford-Stuy alone,” as though it were just as crazy as riding his motorcycle in the rain. My sister walks through it alone at night, often. She’s not afraid, even though she’s sure not to encounter another white person on the street. No one will impose segregation on another, but it seems that everyone prefers self-segregation.

New technology seems to considered generally unnecessary, and accepted only when necessary. The subway system, while bigger and better and cooler than any in the world sometimes seems to be awfully primitive. For instance, tokens were accepted until 2003. Many of the lines are operating beyond design capacity and are overcrowded, and there are no solutions immediately available. There are over 600 miles of revenue track, over 800 miles total track. More than 6,400 cars serve 468 stations. Over 5 million people ride the trains in a week. Yet there are almost no handicap accessible stations. There are only a handful of escalators, and restrooms are only in 5 stations.

And then there’s the heat in the subway. Until you’ve been underground with 100 people holding hair dryers on “high” pointed at you or ridden the NYC subway you have no idea what I mean. It’s just astonishing that with all the heat venting to the streets, the subway is still so hot. Fortunately, the cars are conditioned. Usually. Some cars have fubar A/C.

“Why hasn’t she brought the check yet?!????” One day, I will sit in a New York restaurant forever. Until they volunteer the check. I suspect the project will take a few weeks to accomplish. This is is both awesome and absurd simultaneously. In the same city where jay walking is essential, you can sit at a restaurant as long as you damn well please.

I think the reputation for New Yorkers using obscene language is overrrated. I didn’t notice more in NYC than other places, but what I did notice is a large number of people who just need to yell creatively.

There’s more, but it’s going to have to wait.