This not working and not working out is not working out.

The third week of unemployment is almost up, and while I’m trying, as my dad would say, to keep my dauber up, it’s starting to sink a bit.

Could be that I’m tired of winter. I haven’t been to the gym. I’ve had a sinus infection for two weeks plus. And my computer’s been sick. (Speaking of, my wife asked me – who makes those viruses? And why? Well, geez – hon, there’s bad people in this world. Some of them lie, cheat, and steal. Some kill people. And some hijack computers to kill pictures of people. And song lists. And word documents with favorite recipes.)

And oh yeah – there’s that not-having-a-job thing. Even when I’m not sitting diligently at my sniffling, sneezing, coughing, aching, stuffy hard drive searching high and low and lots of medium heights for work, it’s constantly on my mind. It’s like a pebble stuck in my shoe that I can’t get out. I keep walking and walking and it keeps digging and digging; a constant reminder that it hurts to have your savings account slowly dwindle away.

My advertising partner and I did score some freelance work that kept us busy for the first couple of weeks. And it was great to keep the creative juices flowing, think on some new clients, and make a couple of bucks (if you’re reading this and looking to hire, check out our link here: www.nateandjeff.com), but this week’s been slow. Too slow.

“Awwwww,” say the over 740,000 Michigan unemployed. “You haven’t heard anything in a whole week?!”

I know. I know. Plenty have been out of work for a year or more. A year! I can’t even contemplate that.

What I can contemplate is that bag of cookies in the freezer. Yes – I did pledge to peel 15. And I still plan on it. But one can’t hurt, can it? I’ll get to the gym tomorrow. Right now a homemade oatmeal cookie is exactly what my dauber needs.



Footnote: The term dauber supposedly comes from an old painter’s tool called a dauber. When painters would get sad and stopped painting it was said that they "had their dauber down"

Strong of the Day

Today is Sunday, the day we celebrate the Strong of the Day. Here’s what it all entails…If you’re Strong of the Day (SOTD) you get to choose what’s for dinner, and as we eat, we all go around the table and say what we like about the SOTD – you even get to say what you like about yourself – a nice bit of confidence building. After dinner, we all gather to have a family meeting. This is when my wife and I get to bring up things we want to talk about as a family, such as chores, values, the up-coming week’s events, concerns, questions, etc. - and the kids get their turn as well. Then the SOTD brings in the SOTD Bag – a special bag we use for our version of Show and Tell. The SOTD gets to pack three things and then gives clues about them – color, something I play with, hard or soft, etc. We all try and guess what they are, and whoever guesses correctly, gets to hold that item until the end of the game. Once all the items are out, the SOTD gets to pick one of them to pass around and tell why it’s so meaningful to them. Then, we have another special golden bag that we present to the SOTD. Inside they’ll find a gift or two – 99.9% of the time it’s books – we’re a family of readers! Then the SOTD gets to pick an activity - either a family game, or to watch what we call, “The Maddie, Jillian & Bennett Show,” which means I randomly reach into a basket of our family video tapes, throw it on, and we all proceed to revel in the family memories. These sometimes leave me in tears as I have to face how fast my kids are growing up, but usually I find myself in tears because I’m laughing so hard.

We’re proud of the Strong of the Day tradition and hope it’s something our kids pass on to their own some day.

This isn’t part of SOTD, but it’s along those lines so I’ll include it here; We keep a small notebook in the kitchen, and whenever one of the kids does something noteworthy, we write it down. It can be anything from first words, to great accomplishments at school or on the soccer field, but it’s usually when one of the kids says something funny, e.g., after burping the other night, Bennett said, “ ‘Scuse me. I farted in my teeth.” We could barely get that one down because we were rolling with laughter! And I shouldn’t say we do it every time, but we’ve done pretty well. It’s gotten to the point to when one of us says something funny, someone else always blurts out, “You have to write that down!” Best part – occasionally flipping it open and reading some of the entries. The old cliché is true, you forget so easily, and without doing this so many things would have been lost.

These are both great ways that we celebrate our family, make new memories and look back on the old ones.

Pee Yew and Jelly

Well, I was lucky enough to pick up some freelance work, so I've been too busy to write here.

However, I do have a quick comment to make - I hate the smell of wet peanut butter. You know - the smell that comes from running the knife that still has peanut butter on it under the faucet to clean it off. Makes me dry heave.

Don’t get me wrong. I love peanut butter. Couldn’t live without it, really. If some psycho fascist dictator took over the country and ruled against the possession and use of peanut butter, I would risk my neck for a secret stash. We slather peanut butter and honey on toast in the morning. PB&J rules the lunchtime menu. Peanut butter on celery, on Stacy’s Simply Naked Pita Chips (which, by-the-way, are not to be lived without either), on pretzels. My mom got me to eating peanut butter and lettuce sandwiches. Frozen banana and peanut butter on graham crackers is a treat around here. Growing up, a favorite after school snack was peanut butter toast covered in crunched-up Doritos. And on the rare occasion when Doritos are allowed in the house, I revert right back to being 13 again.

Peanut butter is like the color black. It goes with just about everything.

Except water.

The Pin Man

Another day on the job hunt has me reflecting on jobs I’ve had in the past…I’ve run my own lawn mowing service, was a starter at a private golf course, worked clean-up crew at a concert venue, worked for a tent rental company, was a busboy for two days, worked at the Michigan State on-campus bookstore, was a house boy at a sorority, a salesman at a camera store and for the past going-on 19 years, have been in advertising. All that got me to thinking about jobs I really wouldn’t want. Of course you say, beggars can’t be choosers, but wait until you hear about this one…

Dates back to WWII and was told to me by WWII guide extraordinaire and all around great guy, Paul Woodage of Battlebus Tours in Normandy (www.battlebus.fr). I was in Normandy, one of my favorite places on Earth, after arranging a trip for the production of a documentary on Detroit’s WWII veterans, called “Detroit: Our Greatest Generation (www.detroitgreatestgeneration.com/). We were there with Captain Merle Barr and his son Bradley, who also is currently serving with the USAF. Merle was with a combat engineer battalion and landed on D-Day in the second wave. More on this to come, but for now, back to Paul’s story.

It related to engineers in WWII and the unfortunate occurrence of having to serve as the “pin man”. You’ve all probably heard of having to be the “point man” – leading a group of infantry into hostile territory – essentially, if they shot you they knew the enemy was present – you were a sacrifice or sorts. Well, it turns out the pin man had it just as tough.

As the allies made their way across Normandy there were several rivers that needed to be crossed and there wasn’t always means to do so for obvious reasons – The Germans destroyed them to slow the advance, they were destroyed by bombes, etc. So the engineers were called upon to erect bridges.

These bridges were assembled in sections, each of which was held together by large steel pins. And who put these pins in? Yes, the pin man. German snipers learned to wait until the pin man was perched precariously over the water, ready to pull a pin from his sack and push it into place, before they took the shot, sending the dead engineer and the sack of pins into the water. Again to slow down progress – the team of engineers then had to wait for another set of pins to be delivered up the supply chain. The Army finally learned to deliver extra pins, but the pin man job still existed for some poor guy.

So, I while may not be working, I’m damn glad I never had the job of “pin man”!

Lose weight. Find job.

Today marked my third day of unemployment and one thing is becoming abundantly clear – the close proximity of my computer to the kitchen is proving to be an issue.

I sit, I write emails, I get up for a snack. I check linkedin, Facebook, my inbox, I get a snack. I scour the net, research companies, I get a snack. And I’m not even hungry. Just restless and bored and seeking comfort in handfuls of chocolate chips.

I have no job. I have no willpower. And I’m getting fat. In fact, I’m the fattest I’ve ever been in my life. And as of today, I’m the oldest I’ve ever been. Bad combination when I look in the mirror.

I’m not feeling good about myself right now.

So tomorrow I will make a change. I will hit the gym. I will skip the snacks. I will attempt to seek comfort in fruit and vegetables.

And I pledge to loose 15 pounds.

I’ve been told the best motivation for following through on something is to run your mouth. Or in my case, my keyboard. So I’m telling all of you. I will loose it. 15 pounds. Gimme two months and I’ll show you a trimmer, healthier Nate who won’t make sounds like Chewbacca every time he bends over.

Wish me luck on the healthier lifestyle and the job hunt. I have a feeling once those fall into place, the aging really won’t be an issue.