Looking for a job is like looking for your keys. In both cases is a sense of frantic urgency, and in both cases one is left repeating to themselves “couldn’t I just put them (or myself) in one place and be done with it?” Frustrating.
I was standing behind the counter having a semi peaceful morning at a Virginia Beach Starbucks when someone called from Manhattan asking for me. A paycheck had mysteriously arrived for me there, where they thought I had given up the search and deleted me. I was politely informed my attempts to be a rogue barista without permanent transfer were to be short-lived. Thats okay, it was only supplemental at this point. Supplemental to the inner harmony that subsides me as I read Thoreau on the beach and sing love songs to Ashley. No people, we need jobs.
A potential employer’s Google search of Levon Walker will bring them here. Hence my silence, for I have already said enough. I should say things in my blog today like “there is only one job in the world that I want, and that is to be a hull cleaning scuba diver.” Unless I were to wait tables, which I find to be the unadulterated manifestation of customer service in its thrilling glory. But as for the hull cleaning scuba diving, while never a selection in the aptitude tests of my youth, I am serious when I say I would love that job.
I’ve also been working a craigslist musician ad and corresponding about joining a cover band, forming a dueling piano bar act, and doing studio work. If it could be as simple as hiring a band and going on the road I would. So I’m going to try.
If you’re wondering what getjaunty.com is on my blogroll, its a little secret I’m going to let you in on today. The graphic work of my brother (in law) Dustin and the crafting/art work of Ashley. Dustin’s wife, Cortney is another artist, a hair stylist going green and the four of us sit on the beach in lawn chairs as we dream up big stuff.
Why is she going green? We may have to get her to explain one day….