Saturday, March 29, 2008
Start at the beginning
Look over to the right. You can read the posts in the order they were written. It makes for a better story.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
two weeks later
so on the following sunday after i parted ways
i got a phone call from the guy
his voice is worse than fingernails on a chalkboard
he insisted i needed to bring in my keys right then
i said it was sunday and that wasnt going to happen
he called the next day
and was like when are you coming in
i said its st patricks day dude
i am not coming in
and he was like well uh uh uh uh
dude i will not steal anything you will get your keys
so i went in on tuesday
and i asked her when i was getting paid
and she said it wasnt up to her but her accountant
seriously
what
i told them no stories for the next week
as i would be out of town
sure enough the guy calls
on monday night asking where the stories were
i did not even answer the phone
today i sent an email
the email basically said
i told you i was on vacation and you didnt listen
i will not send any more stories until i am paid
what i am owed
and if they wanted more stories after that
the cost of those stories
so like an hour later the guy calls
and says
they cant pay me until i send a letter of resignation
i said bullshit
the guy says our legal department
i was like you do not have a legal department
and what you are saying is illegal
he puts the woman on the phone
and she spews the same
i say that i will not be sending such a letter
since it is illegal and she said she would have the lawyer call me
a little later they call back and i let it go to voice
now they claim
i have to send a letter saying i am self employed
or i will not be paid
so i send an email stating
i am self employed and i am only saying that
because i was told i cant be paid unless i say that
but i was giving up no rights
maybe i am paranoid
but i think i have reason to be
so i go in
and they have a check with all the taxes taken out
and i am like why do i have to sign something
if you have already taken out the taxes
and she goes on some rant about something
anyway she tears up that check
and writes a new one with no taxes taken out
whatever
while the guy types -- seriously types up the check-
she criticizes me for a wrong date in a issue
and how some ad was wrong on the easter page
a page i asked her over and over what she wanted
and she said to leave alone
and then just left
and she wanted to argue about it
so i walked into the other room
where her son was
and he was at the computer
and he said
didnt you work here
i said
briefly
and he said i told you what you were getting into
so while i waited for the check
she said
well you will have to be more careful
about the errors
i told them if they wanted me to write more
i sent an email with my terms
and they said nothing
i took my check and went straight to the bank
to cash it
i plan on never going into that office again
i will write if they agree to pay what i asked
but
i so made the right call to leave there
i got a phone call from the guy
his voice is worse than fingernails on a chalkboard
he insisted i needed to bring in my keys right then
i said it was sunday and that wasnt going to happen
he called the next day
and was like when are you coming in
i said its st patricks day dude
i am not coming in
and he was like well uh uh uh uh
dude i will not steal anything you will get your keys
so i went in on tuesday
and i asked her when i was getting paid
and she said it wasnt up to her but her accountant
seriously
what
i told them no stories for the next week
as i would be out of town
sure enough the guy calls
on monday night asking where the stories were
i did not even answer the phone
today i sent an email
the email basically said
i told you i was on vacation and you didnt listen
i will not send any more stories until i am paid
what i am owed
and if they wanted more stories after that
the cost of those stories
so like an hour later the guy calls
and says
they cant pay me until i send a letter of resignation
i said bullshit
the guy says our legal department
i was like you do not have a legal department
and what you are saying is illegal
he puts the woman on the phone
and she spews the same
i say that i will not be sending such a letter
since it is illegal and she said she would have the lawyer call me
a little later they call back and i let it go to voice
now they claim
i have to send a letter saying i am self employed
or i will not be paid
so i send an email stating
i am self employed and i am only saying that
because i was told i cant be paid unless i say that
but i was giving up no rights
maybe i am paranoid
but i think i have reason to be
so i go in
and they have a check with all the taxes taken out
and i am like why do i have to sign something
if you have already taken out the taxes
and she goes on some rant about something
anyway she tears up that check
and writes a new one with no taxes taken out
whatever
while the guy types -- seriously types up the check-
she criticizes me for a wrong date in a issue
and how some ad was wrong on the easter page
a page i asked her over and over what she wanted
and she said to leave alone
and then just left
and she wanted to argue about it
so i walked into the other room
where her son was
and he was at the computer
and he said
didnt you work here
i said
briefly
and he said i told you what you were getting into
so while i waited for the check
she said
well you will have to be more careful
about the errors
i told them if they wanted me to write more
i sent an email with my terms
and they said nothing
i took my check and went straight to the bank
to cash it
i plan on never going into that office again
i will write if they agree to pay what i asked
but
i so made the right call to leave there
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Start at the beginning
If you want to read these posts in the order they were written, look to the right in the archives. It may make more sense.
Also check out my sports blog that I will now have time to write in: Red Right 88
Also check out my sports blog that I will now have time to write in: Red Right 88
A happy ending?
03-12-08
So the woman kept calling me and pushing back our meeting. She had doctor visits. It makes me feel bad to feel so much venom about an elderly sick woman. It puts things in perspective and adds another reason to get out. It is not healthy to think mean thoughts about someone's grandma.
While I waited- I went to craigslist and responded to an ad by WKYC Channel 3. They are starting a website about bars and restaurants. I got a call back less than ten minutes after I emailed my resume and clips. They want me to come in Monday at 6pm for an informational meeting. I told the guy you want me to come in on St. Patrick's Day. Shouldn't I be out at bars gathering information for you?
Anyway the start is simple. They will give me 25 assignments. I call said assignment- and ask a checklist of the owner or manager. I type up list and get $10 a pop. I need to do 25 a week. If I can do them in 3 days then they will send them faster. If I do well-- down the road I could get bigger assignments. Sounds like easy money. So you figure ten minutes on the phone, ten minutes to type. So for slightly more than four hours work a week- I can make $250 or just $100 less than I was making for 50 hours a week. Even I can do that math.
I went into the office at 4:30. I was humble and precise. I told her I bite off more than I could chew. I was writer not a graphic designer and that this was not working. She asked when I felt that I said Friday after we talked on the phone. She insisted on knowing what she said. I told her she said the paper was worse with me than before. She denied saying that and I believe her that she believes she didn't say. She apologized and said all of these nice things. I apologized to the guy for losing my temper a few times and he said it was understandable under the circumstances. But I said still not acceptable which is why I had to leave. She asked me to kept writing and I agreed to write one school class of the week feature and one other. She asked that my dad still write his Out to Lunch feature. I said sure and I will as long as she pays me what she owes me. She asked what I get for a story normally I said you can't afford it but that she could pay me what she could afford between $10 and $20 for the size of the article. I don't mind working for less- if I can crank them out.
I just don't believe they will get a paper out. But maybe they will. When I left the office I knew my mother had said another pray. That went way too well and way too smooth.
But I knew I had done the right thing. That doesn't happen often.
So the woman kept calling me and pushing back our meeting. She had doctor visits. It makes me feel bad to feel so much venom about an elderly sick woman. It puts things in perspective and adds another reason to get out. It is not healthy to think mean thoughts about someone's grandma.
While I waited- I went to craigslist and responded to an ad by WKYC Channel 3. They are starting a website about bars and restaurants. I got a call back less than ten minutes after I emailed my resume and clips. They want me to come in Monday at 6pm for an informational meeting. I told the guy you want me to come in on St. Patrick's Day. Shouldn't I be out at bars gathering information for you?
Anyway the start is simple. They will give me 25 assignments. I call said assignment- and ask a checklist of the owner or manager. I type up list and get $10 a pop. I need to do 25 a week. If I can do them in 3 days then they will send them faster. If I do well-- down the road I could get bigger assignments. Sounds like easy money. So you figure ten minutes on the phone, ten minutes to type. So for slightly more than four hours work a week- I can make $250 or just $100 less than I was making for 50 hours a week. Even I can do that math.
I went into the office at 4:30. I was humble and precise. I told her I bite off more than I could chew. I was writer not a graphic designer and that this was not working. She asked when I felt that I said Friday after we talked on the phone. She insisted on knowing what she said. I told her she said the paper was worse with me than before. She denied saying that and I believe her that she believes she didn't say. She apologized and said all of these nice things. I apologized to the guy for losing my temper a few times and he said it was understandable under the circumstances. But I said still not acceptable which is why I had to leave. She asked me to kept writing and I agreed to write one school class of the week feature and one other. She asked that my dad still write his Out to Lunch feature. I said sure and I will as long as she pays me what she owes me. She asked what I get for a story normally I said you can't afford it but that she could pay me what she could afford between $10 and $20 for the size of the article. I don't mind working for less- if I can crank them out.
I just don't believe they will get a paper out. But maybe they will. When I left the office I knew my mother had said another pray. That went way too well and way too smooth.
But I knew I had done the right thing. That doesn't happen often.
So it is Tuesday will the building catch fire?
03-11-08
I get there before nine. He shows up after ten. She arrives after lunch.
The same old problems. The same old headaches. Another threat of no paper if without that ad fixed even though it was fixed yesterday.
I just plug and plug away.
There are moments when I am alone when I think I can make this work. That I love doing this. I want to chase and tell stories. I don't mind long hours and low pay.
But then they speak.
It is the lack of respect and the absolute inability to ever connect with these people that bothers me.
My favorite activity was always playing basketball. But my least favorite was playing basketball and never getting the ball or having the person I guarded every get the ball. That is just running. That isn't fun as since you are so close to doing what you love to do, it hurts more.
Now after I can't play ball- I like to play shuffleboard. I love playing really talented people but I don't mind playing low key. But play with all drunks who disrespect the table or take ten minutes between shots to do shots-- that isn't fun. You get frustrated because you just want to play.
That is how I feel. I could plug away at this but I don't see it getting better. She isn't going to change. He isn't going to change. Even if I could stomach working for them-- who would sell for them. I have already missed my brother's tournament games and now the thought of missing Easter week with my nieces and nephews for a lost cause is too much.
I want to write. I don't mind layout. But to be close to what I want but to be forced to be miserable is too much for me. I am going to have a heart attack and I am making $350 a week with no health insurance.
I made phone friends with two women at the printer. They helped me so much. They told me I was the best the paper has had since the main guy left some time ago. I guess they have been many, many people in my seat.
I guess what is frustrating is I am exactly what this paper needs but they don't understand that.
I finished the paper around eight or so -- but it took until after 11 to make the last correction and have it leave my outbox to the printer.
There are so many more ridiculous things I haven't written about. This is just a small taste.
I called the printer at nine and one of the woman told me they had everything. I called the office of course he wasn't there and she wasn't there. I had to call two numbers since the answering machine is locked in her office. I called at noon and told him to have her call me when she gets in so we can talk. I want to do this face to face. It will not be pleasant and I wonder if I will ever see a dime.
I worked it out and I have put in to complete three issues in 16 days a total of over 130 hours.
I get there before nine. He shows up after ten. She arrives after lunch.
The same old problems. The same old headaches. Another threat of no paper if without that ad fixed even though it was fixed yesterday.
I just plug and plug away.
There are moments when I am alone when I think I can make this work. That I love doing this. I want to chase and tell stories. I don't mind long hours and low pay.
But then they speak.
It is the lack of respect and the absolute inability to ever connect with these people that bothers me.
My favorite activity was always playing basketball. But my least favorite was playing basketball and never getting the ball or having the person I guarded every get the ball. That is just running. That isn't fun as since you are so close to doing what you love to do, it hurts more.
Now after I can't play ball- I like to play shuffleboard. I love playing really talented people but I don't mind playing low key. But play with all drunks who disrespect the table or take ten minutes between shots to do shots-- that isn't fun. You get frustrated because you just want to play.
That is how I feel. I could plug away at this but I don't see it getting better. She isn't going to change. He isn't going to change. Even if I could stomach working for them-- who would sell for them. I have already missed my brother's tournament games and now the thought of missing Easter week with my nieces and nephews for a lost cause is too much.
I want to write. I don't mind layout. But to be close to what I want but to be forced to be miserable is too much for me. I am going to have a heart attack and I am making $350 a week with no health insurance.
I made phone friends with two women at the printer. They helped me so much. They told me I was the best the paper has had since the main guy left some time ago. I guess they have been many, many people in my seat.
I guess what is frustrating is I am exactly what this paper needs but they don't understand that.
I finished the paper around eight or so -- but it took until after 11 to make the last correction and have it leave my outbox to the printer.
There are so many more ridiculous things I haven't written about. This is just a small taste.
I called the printer at nine and one of the woman told me they had everything. I called the office of course he wasn't there and she wasn't there. I had to call two numbers since the answering machine is locked in her office. I called at noon and told him to have her call me when she gets in so we can talk. I want to do this face to face. It will not be pleasant and I wonder if I will ever see a dime.
I worked it out and I have put in to complete three issues in 16 days a total of over 130 hours.
Third Monday
03-10-08
I got to work before nine. The guy wasn't there. He showed up late and the woman did not arrive until well in the afternoon.
That would be ok but when I got there, my internet was working. This was bad.
When he got there his solution was to just kept trying, it would work eventually. I told him the phone line was dead- I could try all I wanted but it wasn't going to work. We swapped his phone for the internet phone to make sure maybe just the receiver wasn't dead. When I went to his side of the office, the smell was so obnoxious I had to run outside and get some fresh air as I almost puked. The phone jack in my office area was buried under piles and piles of old newspapers. That has to be a fire hazard. It turned out to be the jack and not the phone. The guy called the phone company the same one that has jerked him around for three weeks on installing a dsl line. It was promised the week before I was hired and even though they still haven't fulfilled the order, they don't go to a company that I have heard of before. It is obvious they jack will not be fixed, so I brainstorm. I decide to plug my computer into the fax line so I can have the internet. But the guy protests and says but we won't have faxes. I said that is a shame but no internet means no paper.
Hours late when she arrives, she is incensed to discover she has no fax machine. She screams we aren't getting a dsl line because we need a fax machine more. (Of course that makes no sense) Every hour or so she yells about the fax machine, it is like she can't comprehend that without the internet I can't produce a newspaper.
She is also focused on the one ad that did not look good last week. Five times I have told her that the fault was the people who made the ad. The printer people have said so over and over. I have sent the ad to the them and they have cleaned it up. Yet she refuses to give me any other ads until the company sends a new ad (the same one we have) to the printer so they can clean it up and look at it (which they have already done) and then resend it back to me so I can resend it to back to them on a page. If I don't do this then there will be no paper. Insanity. Ultimate insanity.
Around two I ask the guy how many coaches called him back, I had him call five hoping to get two or three. He tells me none. I am flabbergasted. You were going to tell me this when?
Never fear for filling the hole though, she tells me at 2pm on Monday- she wants a full page ad that is a coloring contest. Here is the problem-- they have no indesign copies of it. They have old pdfs and they have old pagemaker files. If you open the pagemaker in indesign it doesn't work- its all garbled. You can make changes for new dates in pagemaker but it won't make a pdf because the distiller is missing. I spend three hours calling people about this. Finally I open a pdf in photoshop make it a tif and place it as an image then I cover up the dates. Of course all the ads are two years old and she hasn't sold any new ones but she has me leave them in. Oh and the cost gives cash prizes to little kids for coloring. She won't pay me a decent wage and worse tells me no more $10 intern stories but little kids get cash money for coloring. Oh we have enough content now she says. Because I am working my butt off and she can't pony up ten bucks so I can get one real story written by a good writer to help me out.
She has the worst phone voice well except for the guy maybe. She can barely make conversation on the phone and confuses whoever she calls. You can't understand anything he says.
It is hard to describe them. Imagine if the stapler guy from Office Space was an orthodox jew, that would be him. The voice is nearly the same. I am sure at one time she was good at what she did and that is all she remembers. She doesn't notice what her paper is now and she is clueless at how it is now perceived. I went to a mayor's office today and someone told me if she calls the mayor and he doesn't call back in ten minutes, she gets very abusive with whoever she is on the phone with.
At any rate, at 6pm I get my ad list and I still have no stories from the guy. During the day alone- while I solved all these crisises-- I wrote four stories all with real quotes from real people. One story with two mayors and a service department head. And he has nothing.
I go home 11 hours after I got there.
I got to work before nine. The guy wasn't there. He showed up late and the woman did not arrive until well in the afternoon.
That would be ok but when I got there, my internet was working. This was bad.
When he got there his solution was to just kept trying, it would work eventually. I told him the phone line was dead- I could try all I wanted but it wasn't going to work. We swapped his phone for the internet phone to make sure maybe just the receiver wasn't dead. When I went to his side of the office, the smell was so obnoxious I had to run outside and get some fresh air as I almost puked. The phone jack in my office area was buried under piles and piles of old newspapers. That has to be a fire hazard. It turned out to be the jack and not the phone. The guy called the phone company the same one that has jerked him around for three weeks on installing a dsl line. It was promised the week before I was hired and even though they still haven't fulfilled the order, they don't go to a company that I have heard of before. It is obvious they jack will not be fixed, so I brainstorm. I decide to plug my computer into the fax line so I can have the internet. But the guy protests and says but we won't have faxes. I said that is a shame but no internet means no paper.
Hours late when she arrives, she is incensed to discover she has no fax machine. She screams we aren't getting a dsl line because we need a fax machine more. (Of course that makes no sense) Every hour or so she yells about the fax machine, it is like she can't comprehend that without the internet I can't produce a newspaper.
She is also focused on the one ad that did not look good last week. Five times I have told her that the fault was the people who made the ad. The printer people have said so over and over. I have sent the ad to the them and they have cleaned it up. Yet she refuses to give me any other ads until the company sends a new ad (the same one we have) to the printer so they can clean it up and look at it (which they have already done) and then resend it back to me so I can resend it to back to them on a page. If I don't do this then there will be no paper. Insanity. Ultimate insanity.
Around two I ask the guy how many coaches called him back, I had him call five hoping to get two or three. He tells me none. I am flabbergasted. You were going to tell me this when?
Never fear for filling the hole though, she tells me at 2pm on Monday- she wants a full page ad that is a coloring contest. Here is the problem-- they have no indesign copies of it. They have old pdfs and they have old pagemaker files. If you open the pagemaker in indesign it doesn't work- its all garbled. You can make changes for new dates in pagemaker but it won't make a pdf because the distiller is missing. I spend three hours calling people about this. Finally I open a pdf in photoshop make it a tif and place it as an image then I cover up the dates. Of course all the ads are two years old and she hasn't sold any new ones but she has me leave them in. Oh and the cost gives cash prizes to little kids for coloring. She won't pay me a decent wage and worse tells me no more $10 intern stories but little kids get cash money for coloring. Oh we have enough content now she says. Because I am working my butt off and she can't pony up ten bucks so I can get one real story written by a good writer to help me out.
She has the worst phone voice well except for the guy maybe. She can barely make conversation on the phone and confuses whoever she calls. You can't understand anything he says.
It is hard to describe them. Imagine if the stapler guy from Office Space was an orthodox jew, that would be him. The voice is nearly the same. I am sure at one time she was good at what she did and that is all she remembers. She doesn't notice what her paper is now and she is clueless at how it is now perceived. I went to a mayor's office today and someone told me if she calls the mayor and he doesn't call back in ten minutes, she gets very abusive with whoever she is on the phone with.
At any rate, at 6pm I get my ad list and I still have no stories from the guy. During the day alone- while I solved all these crisises-- I wrote four stories all with real quotes from real people. One story with two mayors and a service department head. And he has nothing.
I go home 11 hours after I got there.
Sunday, March 9, 2008
The start of the end? Already?
03-07-08
I had another strong Thursday and early Friday. I got a great story and leads on several other strong ones. The few people aware of the paper's existence were all pumped at what I did. One AD told me that my new paper was a joke and he was glad I was there to make it better. One coach asked if the "guy" still worked there and laughed at his experience with him. Another coach said she had never heard of the paper. The Rocky River school pr lady was thrilled with the paper. She said she bought four copies on her own and was so proud of me.
When I got to work I learned they print 800 of the main paper. About 400 of them go to newstands and the rest are given mostly to old folk homes and some to schools. The other three papers have 200, 65 and 65 copies distributed to newstands. I was shocked at the low numbers.
About 35 of the main papers are mailed in bulk. But the guy told me he never mailed last week's because I had moved up his deadline. I asked his stories be done Monday. He did one. He spent all of Monday and Tuesday morning writing a second. Never bothered with the rest. So I don't understand why he couldn't mail the papers. Turns out he mails papers on Friday- why I don't know since the paper gets returned on Wednesday night. I guess that is what happens when you have the guy whose is supposed to mail them doesn't have his own car. Well he missed today's bulk deadline of noon so no one will get this week's papers either.
Unreal.
Yesterday all the woman had to say about the paper was to complain about how one ad looked. I pointed out it looked fine on the pdf and showed her. The printer told me it was a problem with the pdf provided by the company, she showed me what to do to fix it. The woman got mad because I told her all she said was negative and it would not hurt her to be positive. She started yelling. I told her I understand you yell at everyone else who works here but that doesn't work with me. Oh she was offended. She said she can yell at me all she wants and I am sensitive. And she never yells at anyone else. I told her I worked hard for her. I worked 50 hours so I was making less than 7 bucks an hour. I told her she was paying the guy more than that yet he can't write his four stories and get the paper out. Oh was she mad.
So today I was in the office for an hour. The big snow had started. I couldn't do much work because the dial up was too slow and I was way ahead anyway. I left to go to city hall in Rocky River. The guy wanted me to sign out where I went when I wasn't there. I said no way. I was getting paid salary and as long as the paper came out -- who cares where I worked from. They had my cell phone if they needed me.
So I am with the mayor when she calls. I tell her where I am and tell her I will call her back. She said well thought we had a meeting scheduled. We didn't and anyway she didn't even come in. She then yelled at me over the phone. Accused me of being rude to her and being a bad boy. She said I was disrespectful and I made demands. I asked her to tell me one demand I had made. She went on and one but the 7 dollar an hour comment. She said I was never in the office. I said I was there until 4:30am the first week and got there at 5am the second week. She said that is your job. She said I lied about being able to do layout. I said if I can't do layout how did the paper get out two weeks in a row. She said the paper was worse then before I got there
Stab me in the heart.
She has no clue what a joke her paper has become. She said I knew nothing about newspaper and I better improve soon or else.
I asked what that means. She just said it over and over.
So in my mind, I think I quit. I don't need this. I am so close to my dream but I can't live with these people. It is too much. I am not being miserable for $350 a week with no benefits and no appreciation for what I am doing. I will finish the issue I started and then stop unless another miracle happens. When I interviewed they said I could take off the first two Fridays to go to my brother's conference tournament and the first round of the NCAA D3 playoffs. I didn't go the first week because I had so much to do. And the storm scared me off from going the second week. I sacrificed family for someone who doesn't care.
I talked to the once a week ten dollar freelancer and she said they go through people like me like water. She said she really wanted me to stay. I told her she was vastly underpaid and could get work elsewhere. She said there was a new ad person but when they refused to pay her she quit. I figure I will never see a dime from this and then she will damage my rep even further. The two weeks proved this is what I should be doing or at the very least just writing features but I can't live like this. Working unreal hours only to be abused for nothing.
I had another strong Thursday and early Friday. I got a great story and leads on several other strong ones. The few people aware of the paper's existence were all pumped at what I did. One AD told me that my new paper was a joke and he was glad I was there to make it better. One coach asked if the "guy" still worked there and laughed at his experience with him. Another coach said she had never heard of the paper. The Rocky River school pr lady was thrilled with the paper. She said she bought four copies on her own and was so proud of me.
When I got to work I learned they print 800 of the main paper. About 400 of them go to newstands and the rest are given mostly to old folk homes and some to schools. The other three papers have 200, 65 and 65 copies distributed to newstands. I was shocked at the low numbers.
About 35 of the main papers are mailed in bulk. But the guy told me he never mailed last week's because I had moved up his deadline. I asked his stories be done Monday. He did one. He spent all of Monday and Tuesday morning writing a second. Never bothered with the rest. So I don't understand why he couldn't mail the papers. Turns out he mails papers on Friday- why I don't know since the paper gets returned on Wednesday night. I guess that is what happens when you have the guy whose is supposed to mail them doesn't have his own car. Well he missed today's bulk deadline of noon so no one will get this week's papers either.
Unreal.
Yesterday all the woman had to say about the paper was to complain about how one ad looked. I pointed out it looked fine on the pdf and showed her. The printer told me it was a problem with the pdf provided by the company, she showed me what to do to fix it. The woman got mad because I told her all she said was negative and it would not hurt her to be positive. She started yelling. I told her I understand you yell at everyone else who works here but that doesn't work with me. Oh she was offended. She said she can yell at me all she wants and I am sensitive. And she never yells at anyone else. I told her I worked hard for her. I worked 50 hours so I was making less than 7 bucks an hour. I told her she was paying the guy more than that yet he can't write his four stories and get the paper out. Oh was she mad.
So today I was in the office for an hour. The big snow had started. I couldn't do much work because the dial up was too slow and I was way ahead anyway. I left to go to city hall in Rocky River. The guy wanted me to sign out where I went when I wasn't there. I said no way. I was getting paid salary and as long as the paper came out -- who cares where I worked from. They had my cell phone if they needed me.
So I am with the mayor when she calls. I tell her where I am and tell her I will call her back. She said well thought we had a meeting scheduled. We didn't and anyway she didn't even come in. She then yelled at me over the phone. Accused me of being rude to her and being a bad boy. She said I was disrespectful and I made demands. I asked her to tell me one demand I had made. She went on and one but the 7 dollar an hour comment. She said I was never in the office. I said I was there until 4:30am the first week and got there at 5am the second week. She said that is your job. She said I lied about being able to do layout. I said if I can't do layout how did the paper get out two weeks in a row. She said the paper was worse then before I got there
Stab me in the heart.
She has no clue what a joke her paper has become. She said I knew nothing about newspaper and I better improve soon or else.
I asked what that means. She just said it over and over.
So in my mind, I think I quit. I don't need this. I am so close to my dream but I can't live with these people. It is too much. I am not being miserable for $350 a week with no benefits and no appreciation for what I am doing. I will finish the issue I started and then stop unless another miracle happens. When I interviewed they said I could take off the first two Fridays to go to my brother's conference tournament and the first round of the NCAA D3 playoffs. I didn't go the first week because I had so much to do. And the storm scared me off from going the second week. I sacrificed family for someone who doesn't care.
I talked to the once a week ten dollar freelancer and she said they go through people like me like water. She said she really wanted me to stay. I told her she was vastly underpaid and could get work elsewhere. She said there was a new ad person but when they refused to pay her she quit. I figure I will never see a dime from this and then she will damage my rep even further. The two weeks proved this is what I should be doing or at the very least just writing features but I can't live like this. Working unreal hours only to be abused for nothing.
Unnoticed Mircale
03-05-08
Some time after ten last night, I figured I should try to sleep. I did but my dreams or voices kept telling me to wake up. I went back to the office at 5 am. I called my dad at 8 to help proof. The guy showed up at 9:30 or so. Seeing our deadline was 9:30- I wondered how he thought the paper would get out. Minutes later the woman called and I grabbed the phone before he could. She was like how is it going. I was like the power went out at 6:30pm yesterday and I got here at 5am to finish the paper. And she started rambling and I interrupted her and said this is where you should thank me for that. She kept calling about whether it would get done in time and no matter how much I said I had it handled.
I wonder if they just thought at nine, fairies came and magically sprinkled the paper together. The last edited page arrived in at the printer via the internet at 10:40am, an hour and ten minutes past deadline but 20 minutes before the drop dead there will be not printing of the paper deadline.
As I walked out of the office at 11 a.m., the guy says, "Are you leaving for the day?"
I just snorted and went home.
For the record here is what I did.
Before me-- almost nothing but press releases and internet advice columns-- they would even take national stories off the internet-- the few bylines would be the guy's awful sports features which were almost all stats and never a quote from a player-- a local woman would "write" for free but the majority of her stories were press releases she would put her name on-- i thought this was true but then she sent me one unchanged that i had already used-- and one good story a week from this young girl
this week i had ten bylines
i had my dad and uncle start an out to lunch feature where they eat at local places
i started a class of the week feature
i started a school page
with plans to start a local store feature and a meet your neighbor feature
i wrote the first wrestling and gymanstics stories ever
i myself wrote about over 20 teams
and i did all and layout and edit the paper
while the guy spent two days writing one story
two cutlines and compile the police blog
oh and while he did that i wrote about drug bust
and the firefighter walk out in bay
ad then i started at five in the morning
finished it without them
and they question if i am leaving for the day
Some time after ten last night, I figured I should try to sleep. I did but my dreams or voices kept telling me to wake up. I went back to the office at 5 am. I called my dad at 8 to help proof. The guy showed up at 9:30 or so. Seeing our deadline was 9:30- I wondered how he thought the paper would get out. Minutes later the woman called and I grabbed the phone before he could. She was like how is it going. I was like the power went out at 6:30pm yesterday and I got here at 5am to finish the paper. And she started rambling and I interrupted her and said this is where you should thank me for that. She kept calling about whether it would get done in time and no matter how much I said I had it handled.
I wonder if they just thought at nine, fairies came and magically sprinkled the paper together. The last edited page arrived in at the printer via the internet at 10:40am, an hour and ten minutes past deadline but 20 minutes before the drop dead there will be not printing of the paper deadline.
As I walked out of the office at 11 a.m., the guy says, "Are you leaving for the day?"
I just snorted and went home.
For the record here is what I did.
Before me-- almost nothing but press releases and internet advice columns-- they would even take national stories off the internet-- the few bylines would be the guy's awful sports features which were almost all stats and never a quote from a player-- a local woman would "write" for free but the majority of her stories were press releases she would put her name on-- i thought this was true but then she sent me one unchanged that i had already used-- and one good story a week from this young girl
this week i had ten bylines
i had my dad and uncle start an out to lunch feature where they eat at local places
i started a class of the week feature
i started a school page
with plans to start a local store feature and a meet your neighbor feature
i wrote the first wrestling and gymanstics stories ever
i myself wrote about over 20 teams
and i did all and layout and edit the paper
while the guy spent two days writing one story
two cutlines and compile the police blog
oh and while he did that i wrote about drug bust
and the firefighter walk out in bay
ad then i started at five in the morning
finished it without them
and they question if i am leaving for the day
Iced out
03-04-08
So at 6:30pm or so the power went out at the office. The lights were on across the street in but on our side it was totally dark. There were two inches of ice on my car so I could not get in it then some guy suggested I try the passenger side. There was just one inch there so I fought until I got it opened. I let the heater/defroster run for ten minutes then I attacked the ice so I could see water between the window and the layer of ice I helplessly banged it. The whole time it was raining ice and I got the back window free first, well mostly. I finally cut a tiny hole in the front and found a way to get it bigger. By the time the front window was clear, the back window had frozen over again.
On the way home I called a councilman who is also a track coach I used to cover asking she call me when my ward had lights again. She called me back and told me to call the power company so I did.
Now I wait.
So at 6:30pm or so the power went out at the office. The lights were on across the street in but on our side it was totally dark. There were two inches of ice on my car so I could not get in it then some guy suggested I try the passenger side. There was just one inch there so I fought until I got it opened. I let the heater/defroster run for ten minutes then I attacked the ice so I could see water between the window and the layer of ice I helplessly banged it. The whole time it was raining ice and I got the back window free first, well mostly. I finally cut a tiny hole in the front and found a way to get it bigger. By the time the front window was clear, the back window had frozen over again.
On the way home I called a councilman who is also a track coach I used to cover asking she call me when my ward had lights again. She called me back and told me to call the power company so I did.
Now I wait.
It gets worse
02-29-08
I feel like I am trapped in a really bad sitcom. First the man stumbles into the office and he is bundled up so much you can only really see his eyes. He sees me at my computer, stares at me and then leaves again into the snow. The woman is much more calm today and I began to consider she has the medication bottle today. And then every thing goes to hell. Eventually when the guy returns, she starts screaming at him how he has to move the pile of papers and she goes off how you can't count on him because of his religion as he has to leave early on Friday to avoid the sunset and then he can't be back until Sunday. He throws a tantrum about how he works sunup to sundown for her Sunday through Thursday and he just has to take one afternoon off and the day are slowly getting longer so he will be able to work more soon.
Later while on the phone with my trusty former intern, the woman goes off on the office lady and office lady throws a fit and quits. They yell at each other and the office lady storms off. The woman cusses her off. She tells the guy how the office worker is insane and then tries to explain to me how everyone is a fool. I told I didn't care to get involved and I had work to do. Meanwhile I have to make an ad and everything is so complicated. I wrestle the phone from her and solve the problem in two minutes. Oh and we lost our biggest advertiser because before I got there they put their competition who does not advertise on the front cover.
And her son showed up today. He barged in and demanded to used the computer. He then said I needed to get him a media pass so he can go to Cavs game. What a real charmer.
I feel like I am trapped in a really bad sitcom. First the man stumbles into the office and he is bundled up so much you can only really see his eyes. He sees me at my computer, stares at me and then leaves again into the snow. The woman is much more calm today and I began to consider she has the medication bottle today. And then every thing goes to hell. Eventually when the guy returns, she starts screaming at him how he has to move the pile of papers and she goes off how you can't count on him because of his religion as he has to leave early on Friday to avoid the sunset and then he can't be back until Sunday. He throws a tantrum about how he works sunup to sundown for her Sunday through Thursday and he just has to take one afternoon off and the day are slowly getting longer so he will be able to work more soon.
Later while on the phone with my trusty former intern, the woman goes off on the office lady and office lady throws a fit and quits. They yell at each other and the office lady storms off. The woman cusses her off. She tells the guy how the office worker is insane and then tries to explain to me how everyone is a fool. I told I didn't care to get involved and I had work to do. Meanwhile I have to make an ad and everything is so complicated. I wrestle the phone from her and solve the problem in two minutes. Oh and we lost our biggest advertiser because before I got there they put their competition who does not advertise on the front cover.
And her son showed up today. He barged in and demanded to used the computer. He then said I needed to get him a media pass so he can go to Cavs game. What a real charmer.
The paper comes out
02-28-08
So this morning was awesome. I went to Rocky River high school at 8:50 am for a story. I asked an old source for a tip for a school class story- and the pitch was a teacher and class makes cancer bracelets. Oh was it so much more. When you get the right story, you know it right away.
I could see the whole story two minutes into talking to the teacher. The voice and pitch were perfect- it wrote itself. I had solid quotes from the students and then BOOM -money in the bank as one of the girls called the teacher, "the white oprah" -gold i tell you gold. This was something I could sell, this was something that had to be told, this was something that would create the buzz i needed and then for gravy i turned to the one girl who never spoke and asked if she wanted to say anything, she was like well not really I don't really know anyone with cancer and one of the others says but you crank out the most bracelets and the first girl says well I love Mrs Caruso's passion, she inspires me and i would do anything for her. This is why I write. This story was bigger than me and had to be told. This is a story that without me would not be told by the paper I used to work for because no one is passionate enough to find it. This made this week and those crazies worth it.
I went straight home and cranked it out. I finished even before the school pr lady downloaded me the photos. And then in the driveway of work, I got another call and landed a cool story for next week. I walked in the office pumped. I said I had a strong morning. I said sorry some of the photos were dark but the lady from the printer has explained to me what to do in the future and it wont happen again and then added which is another reason we have to layout Monday so when things like that happen I have time to correct it and the guy said he thought it was quite remarkable what I pulled off. I thought life is good so I cheerfully went creating dummies with the right settings. A few minutes later the old lady starts screaming at the guy and then she stops at my desk throws down one of the papers with disgust curls her bony finger at me and snarls THAT'S TERRIBLE then slinks away into her office where she starts yelling at her office worker who is typing away at a typewriter. Somehow I am able to not say anything. Later she returns and starts screaming WE HAVE A REAL PROBLEM. YOU CANT CREATE ADS. THAT IS NOT RIGHT. YOU HAVE TO CREATE ADS. The guy starts to say I show remarkable ability to learn things quickly (who the hell is this guy and where did the weirdo go) but she just rants and rants
and I say you never mentioned that once during the interview that I would be expected to create ads. WHY WOULD I HAVE? I JUST ASSUMED? Um well I reply you hired me to do layout and to write and to create content, you never mentioned ads.
I SHOULD NOT HAVE HAD TO
But I say no editor or writer at any paper ever creates ads.
At this point she isn't listening, THIS ISN'T GOING TO WORK. THIS ISN'T GOING TO WORK. WE HAVE A PROBLEM. WE HAVE A PROBLEM.
No i think to myself you have problem, you hired a writer and you got lucky with me. You didn't hire a graphic designer. I have all these great ideas and I have just about all ten pages prepared in my mind for next week. I should have enough content mostly and all she cares about is photos and creating ads. She even talked me having to sell them too. It was frankly. devastating. She cares less about content and she doesn't understand or care to understand process. She wants a graphic designer who can fill her glorified newsletter with crap and make shiny ads. Except she cant sell any she cant find content and her paper is dying. I breathe life into her paper and she doesn't care. My only hope is they take turns sharing medication and she settles down.
So this morning was awesome. I went to Rocky River high school at 8:50 am for a story. I asked an old source for a tip for a school class story- and the pitch was a teacher and class makes cancer bracelets. Oh was it so much more. When you get the right story, you know it right away.
I could see the whole story two minutes into talking to the teacher. The voice and pitch were perfect- it wrote itself. I had solid quotes from the students and then BOOM -money in the bank as one of the girls called the teacher, "the white oprah" -gold i tell you gold. This was something I could sell, this was something that had to be told, this was something that would create the buzz i needed and then for gravy i turned to the one girl who never spoke and asked if she wanted to say anything, she was like well not really I don't really know anyone with cancer and one of the others says but you crank out the most bracelets and the first girl says well I love Mrs Caruso's passion, she inspires me and i would do anything for her. This is why I write. This story was bigger than me and had to be told. This is a story that without me would not be told by the paper I used to work for because no one is passionate enough to find it. This made this week and those crazies worth it.
I went straight home and cranked it out. I finished even before the school pr lady downloaded me the photos. And then in the driveway of work, I got another call and landed a cool story for next week. I walked in the office pumped. I said I had a strong morning. I said sorry some of the photos were dark but the lady from the printer has explained to me what to do in the future and it wont happen again and then added which is another reason we have to layout Monday so when things like that happen I have time to correct it and the guy said he thought it was quite remarkable what I pulled off. I thought life is good so I cheerfully went creating dummies with the right settings. A few minutes later the old lady starts screaming at the guy and then she stops at my desk throws down one of the papers with disgust curls her bony finger at me and snarls THAT'S TERRIBLE then slinks away into her office where she starts yelling at her office worker who is typing away at a typewriter. Somehow I am able to not say anything. Later she returns and starts screaming WE HAVE A REAL PROBLEM. YOU CANT CREATE ADS. THAT IS NOT RIGHT. YOU HAVE TO CREATE ADS. The guy starts to say I show remarkable ability to learn things quickly (who the hell is this guy and where did the weirdo go) but she just rants and rants
and I say you never mentioned that once during the interview that I would be expected to create ads. WHY WOULD I HAVE? I JUST ASSUMED? Um well I reply you hired me to do layout and to write and to create content, you never mentioned ads.
I SHOULD NOT HAVE HAD TO
But I say no editor or writer at any paper ever creates ads.
At this point she isn't listening, THIS ISN'T GOING TO WORK. THIS ISN'T GOING TO WORK. WE HAVE A PROBLEM. WE HAVE A PROBLEM.
No i think to myself you have problem, you hired a writer and you got lucky with me. You didn't hire a graphic designer. I have all these great ideas and I have just about all ten pages prepared in my mind for next week. I should have enough content mostly and all she cares about is photos and creating ads. She even talked me having to sell them too. It was frankly. devastating. She cares less about content and she doesn't understand or care to understand process. She wants a graphic designer who can fill her glorified newsletter with crap and make shiny ads. Except she cant sell any she cant find content and her paper is dying. I breathe life into her paper and she doesn't care. My only hope is they take turns sharing medication and she settles down.
First deadline
02-26-08
I got to the office before nine and I left at 4:15 that would in the am. I left my desk once to go to the bathroom and never saw sunlight. I didnt eat anything and drank one bottle of water. I have never wanted to kill so much in my life. Working with this guy is just so awfu. I saw his timecard and every day but Saturday he punches in around nine in the morning and leaves between ten or eleven at night except Friday he leaves early for temple. What he does is beyond me. He had no stories written yesterday and today he tried pawn on his on an intern. I said no the intern needed to get me a front page story. The guy does police beats and picks two high schools a week where he writes the same story over and over and ends each with the coach saying he loves the coverage. I hate that type of sports writing and get this next week is writing about Euclid which is no where near our coverage area. Heaven forbid he cover a sport like wrestling or swimming with a local team. Well he says in his slow lisp you cant go back to advertiser and say we are doing Olmsted Falls, they will say you did Olmsted Falls last week. THATS THE POINT!!!!!!! We cover local and get them to buy more ads. The woman spent from two to five in the afternoon making calls to sell ads for this issue to cover Southview Listening to her I can't believe she ever sells an ad. Around six I got really mad at the hopelessness of it as I had still three or four blank pages. I started yesterday and they are getting on my case that I am not magically producing a paper. I keep insisting on a key. Finally just before 10 he leaves so he can take a bus to the east side but before he is staring at me like its my fault. He says well maybe you should have stayed longer yesterday. Unreal? I worked nine hours on my first day with no lunch and no break and today I work 19 (14 at that point)with no lunch no dinner and this guy who turned in his last story at nine on Tuesday is questioning me.
They had no pdfs of ads on the computer. I had to call the woman who used to layout the paper from home. She was at work so she cut out the ads from pdf of pages and sent them to me as jpegs which I had to convert to tifs. They did not look well. For other ads they photocopied them and tried to make those jpegs. Unreal.
What a joke? Here is the punch line I had the paper done around one but had to send the pdfs.
I sent the last one before two but one would not send I noticed it was much larger and our dial-up and email could not handle it. So I swapped an ad on that page to another and still it didn't work
So I sent just the ad on the page and the page without the ad hoping they can merge it but I don't now if it works that way. I bet the printer calls me in the morninga nd wakes me up but I know the woman will call and whine and whine about something.
How hard can it be to hard to work with two people?
How can my enthusiasm be gone in just two days?
I got to the office before nine and I left at 4:15 that would in the am. I left my desk once to go to the bathroom and never saw sunlight. I didnt eat anything and drank one bottle of water. I have never wanted to kill so much in my life. Working with this guy is just so awfu. I saw his timecard and every day but Saturday he punches in around nine in the morning and leaves between ten or eleven at night except Friday he leaves early for temple. What he does is beyond me. He had no stories written yesterday and today he tried pawn on his on an intern. I said no the intern needed to get me a front page story. The guy does police beats and picks two high schools a week where he writes the same story over and over and ends each with the coach saying he loves the coverage. I hate that type of sports writing and get this next week is writing about Euclid which is no where near our coverage area. Heaven forbid he cover a sport like wrestling or swimming with a local team. Well he says in his slow lisp you cant go back to advertiser and say we are doing Olmsted Falls, they will say you did Olmsted Falls last week. THATS THE POINT!!!!!!! We cover local and get them to buy more ads. The woman spent from two to five in the afternoon making calls to sell ads for this issue to cover Southview Listening to her I can't believe she ever sells an ad. Around six I got really mad at the hopelessness of it as I had still three or four blank pages. I started yesterday and they are getting on my case that I am not magically producing a paper. I keep insisting on a key. Finally just before 10 he leaves so he can take a bus to the east side but before he is staring at me like its my fault. He says well maybe you should have stayed longer yesterday. Unreal? I worked nine hours on my first day with no lunch and no break and today I work 19 (14 at that point)with no lunch no dinner and this guy who turned in his last story at nine on Tuesday is questioning me.
They had no pdfs of ads on the computer. I had to call the woman who used to layout the paper from home. She was at work so she cut out the ads from pdf of pages and sent them to me as jpegs which I had to convert to tifs. They did not look well. For other ads they photocopied them and tried to make those jpegs. Unreal.
What a joke? Here is the punch line I had the paper done around one but had to send the pdfs.
I sent the last one before two but one would not send I noticed it was much larger and our dial-up and email could not handle it. So I swapped an ad on that page to another and still it didn't work
So I sent just the ad on the page and the page without the ad hoping they can merge it but I don't now if it works that way. I bet the printer calls me in the morninga nd wakes me up but I know the woman will call and whine and whine about something.
How hard can it be to hard to work with two people?
How can my enthusiasm be gone in just two days?
First Day of Work
02-25-08
I was so excited I woke up before my alarm. I got to work twenty minutes early and no one was there to let me in.
It did not take long to be deflated. I had agreed to start today with the understanding I would just layout what they had. I was devastated to learn that they had only three advice columns from the Internet. None of their writers, the full-time guy, a intern who wrote one story a week for $10 and a writer who worked for free had turned in anything. I know how to use Quark and they had three programs on the computer. Quark but it was broke. Pagemaker which may be older than me. And Indesign which I had never used. I went with the Indesign but they had no book to go with it. And they had no recent saved pages that I could use as a template.
The paper was really four papers. Pages three through 10 were the same for all four. Page one was different for all four. Page two was basically the same but they had a different nameplate box on each.
I worked from nine until 6 pm without a single break. I did not eat. I did not leave the office. I tried to find content. I tried to create pages from scratch. The woman who runs the paper knows nothing about how it is made. I wonder how often lately she even read most of it. The man is no real help. If I ask a question he stands between me and the computer and farts on me. He doesn't know the answer but he searches. I explain please if you don't know say you don't know. I can search myself.
This may be the worst paper in America. Twice in 2008 they did have an issue because they had no content and no ads. The paper is almost all press releases with no bylines. They used to have a real newsman who died last summer and a layout guy who fled out of state during the fall.
The office is dirty and overflowing with papers. The more I typed on the keyboard an ooze would come from beneath it. It was really gross.
The computer is dial-up and it takes about an hour to get email.
I left at six after working straight through with no break. Nine long hours and I had a page and half of content. I don't have my own phone line because the computer is on it. And honestly the other office phone looked so dirty I didn't want to use it. There is no camera. And even though I asked several times I didn't get a key. The woman did send the man to the store to buy her a new phone because she couldn't hear on the other one. It was so sad it was funny.
I had ideas and press releases for three of the four covers but nothing for one. So instead of writing his stories- the man started to retype a story from another paper that ran last week from that city. I was so mad. I bit my lip and went home. With no stories there wasn't much I could do. I did work nine hours without a break.
The next day I told them both we would not be using the story he stole from another paper. But why I rewrote it, he said. He did rewrite it she said. BECAUSE IT IS PLAGIARISM AND IT IS NO LONGER NEWS.
I was so excited I woke up before my alarm. I got to work twenty minutes early and no one was there to let me in.
It did not take long to be deflated. I had agreed to start today with the understanding I would just layout what they had. I was devastated to learn that they had only three advice columns from the Internet. None of their writers, the full-time guy, a intern who wrote one story a week for $10 and a writer who worked for free had turned in anything. I know how to use Quark and they had three programs on the computer. Quark but it was broke. Pagemaker which may be older than me. And Indesign which I had never used. I went with the Indesign but they had no book to go with it. And they had no recent saved pages that I could use as a template.
The paper was really four papers. Pages three through 10 were the same for all four. Page one was different for all four. Page two was basically the same but they had a different nameplate box on each.
I worked from nine until 6 pm without a single break. I did not eat. I did not leave the office. I tried to find content. I tried to create pages from scratch. The woman who runs the paper knows nothing about how it is made. I wonder how often lately she even read most of it. The man is no real help. If I ask a question he stands between me and the computer and farts on me. He doesn't know the answer but he searches. I explain please if you don't know say you don't know. I can search myself.
This may be the worst paper in America. Twice in 2008 they did have an issue because they had no content and no ads. The paper is almost all press releases with no bylines. They used to have a real newsman who died last summer and a layout guy who fled out of state during the fall.
The office is dirty and overflowing with papers. The more I typed on the keyboard an ooze would come from beneath it. It was really gross.
The computer is dial-up and it takes about an hour to get email.
I left at six after working straight through with no break. Nine long hours and I had a page and half of content. I don't have my own phone line because the computer is on it. And honestly the other office phone looked so dirty I didn't want to use it. There is no camera. And even though I asked several times I didn't get a key. The woman did send the man to the store to buy her a new phone because she couldn't hear on the other one. It was so sad it was funny.
I had ideas and press releases for three of the four covers but nothing for one. So instead of writing his stories- the man started to retype a story from another paper that ran last week from that city. I was so mad. I bit my lip and went home. With no stories there wasn't much I could do. I did work nine hours without a break.
The next day I told them both we would not be using the story he stole from another paper. But why I rewrote it, he said. He did rewrite it she said. BECAUSE IT IS PLAGIARISM AND IT IS NO LONGER NEWS.
The Interview
2-19-08 (pretty sure it was a Tuesday)
Today I went to an interview at the Wxxxxxx. The whole office could fit in my parents dining room. There were stacks of paper older than me all over the place. The woman who runs the show seemed to be over 80 at least and acted like it. She showed me all their awards- I thought the Hooper Awards were unknown but whatever award they earned I had really never heard of. In the middle of conversation, she would just stop and run away to get something else. The other employee had to be close to 60. He is Jewish with the long beard and cap. He stuttered and had food in his beard. Over and over he would fart but not acknowledge it. It was surreal.
Without calling any reference they handed me the keys to their entire paper. Apparently my mom prays right. I went from not being able to get an interview to being handed my dream job. Complete control and direct competition with the paper who fired me.
She said the paper had trouble getting content. I said that would not be a problem that I had contacts all over the area in government and the schools. The other full time employee wrote two pages worth of Scholastic Sports features. I was aware of them and it was exactly what I was against as a sportswriter. He would pick schools out in advance and write only about football, basketball and baseball and softball. He would write about one Lorain County School and Cuyahoga County school. As far as the paper was concerned other sports did not exist.
The woman talked about finding people to work for free. I was stunned and she really lowballed me. I went $150 below what I was paid before and she insisted I go $50 lower than that. I was taking on a lot more work at a price that was insanely low. But she promised that in three months if this worked I could name my own price.
I had no choice I had to take a chance. It felt like a dream.
After calling my family, I stopped in to see the mayor of Rocky River. She squealed when she saw me. And that was before I told her why I was there. She was very excited for me. And it felt good be remembered.
I called a coach and he said he just went in yesterday to a meeting with AD about how his team got no coverage from my old paper and what they could do to get it back to how it was. He said forget that now that I was back.
I was pumped.
Today I went to an interview at the Wxxxxxx. The whole office could fit in my parents dining room. There were stacks of paper older than me all over the place. The woman who runs the show seemed to be over 80 at least and acted like it. She showed me all their awards- I thought the Hooper Awards were unknown but whatever award they earned I had really never heard of. In the middle of conversation, she would just stop and run away to get something else. The other employee had to be close to 60. He is Jewish with the long beard and cap. He stuttered and had food in his beard. Over and over he would fart but not acknowledge it. It was surreal.
Without calling any reference they handed me the keys to their entire paper. Apparently my mom prays right. I went from not being able to get an interview to being handed my dream job. Complete control and direct competition with the paper who fired me.
She said the paper had trouble getting content. I said that would not be a problem that I had contacts all over the area in government and the schools. The other full time employee wrote two pages worth of Scholastic Sports features. I was aware of them and it was exactly what I was against as a sportswriter. He would pick schools out in advance and write only about football, basketball and baseball and softball. He would write about one Lorain County School and Cuyahoga County school. As far as the paper was concerned other sports did not exist.
The woman talked about finding people to work for free. I was stunned and she really lowballed me. I went $150 below what I was paid before and she insisted I go $50 lower than that. I was taking on a lot more work at a price that was insanely low. But she promised that in three months if this worked I could name my own price.
I had no choice I had to take a chance. It felt like a dream.
After calling my family, I stopped in to see the mayor of Rocky River. She squealed when she saw me. And that was before I told her why I was there. She was very excited for me. And it felt good be remembered.
I called a coach and he said he just went in yesterday to a meeting with AD about how his team got no coverage from my old paper and what they could do to get it back to how it was. He said forget that now that I was back.
I was pumped.
A phone call
Most of these posts are taken from another blog.
02-14-08
I didn't realize it was Valentine's Day. I had been in the habit of leaving my cell phone in another room at night. If you have nowhere to be then why take the chance of waking up. But I thought a friend might need a favor in the morning so I had my phone in my bedroom. Indeed she did call but to say she wasn't feeling well and would not need my help. I was too tired to take the phone downstairs so I left it there.
The phone rang a little while later, the voice on the other side was obviously rather old. She yelled to be heard and had a crankiness to her voice. She said she was from the XXXXX Times and she heard about me from a name I had never heard of. I found out later it was a headhunter service but I had never contacted the place and they had never contacted me. Anyway the voice wanted to come in for an interview. I said sure but I was leaving town and would not be back until Tuesday. This upset the woman on the other end. I said I could come in today but that also upset her. So we made arrangements on Tuesday the 19th. I will always remember that because she said at least five times. TUESDAY THE 19th she would scream over and over. Yes. WILL YOU BE THERE. YOU BETTER BE THERE. TUESDAY THE 19th! I DON'T WANT TO COME IN IF YOU ARE NOT COMING. TUESDAY THE 19th!
It was an awful phone call. But I didn't really have anything to lose. It had been 17th months since I was fired from my old paper. The first few months were really tough. I felt like I had let down a lot of kids, especially the seniors. I would check the paper at the library and it broke me my heart all the stories that were not being told. All the teams that were no slipping through the cracks. And how it seemed no one else really cared.
I didn't even try to get a job for the first six months. I was getting half my salary a week from the government and the paper had to pony up because they knew they didn't have a legal leg to stand on for dismissing me. I did my job very well. I did the jobs of several people at the paper. And any antics on my part were greatly exaggerated. I heard from the grapevine some of the things they claimed and it was a joke someone would lie like that. The simple truth was I was the only person there on the editorial staff or layout staff that truly cared about being the best possible. For everyone else it was just a crummy job. For me it was a passion and at times I would get upset that no one else was on board for the task of doing the best you can. Mediocrity breeds a fear of passion and that is why I didn't fit in.
After I was fired the paper won two first place awards for my work and of course never mentioned it to me. The Hooper Awards run from August 1 to July 31. So the paper won a 2007 Hooper for my June 2006 work and then a 2008 for my August 2007 work. The general manager claimed otherwise and I don't think he was lying just misinformed. He claimed the second award for my replacement's August 2007 work and that the first award was for my August 2006 work. But those times frame don't work in the rules of the awards. When I pointed that out in a email- I never got a response so I assume I was correct.
If I would get the job at the XXXXXX Times, I would be a direct competitor with my old paper. That sounded intriguing but I just knew working with that voice wasn't going to work. But I had nothing to lose.
02-14-08
I didn't realize it was Valentine's Day. I had been in the habit of leaving my cell phone in another room at night. If you have nowhere to be then why take the chance of waking up. But I thought a friend might need a favor in the morning so I had my phone in my bedroom. Indeed she did call but to say she wasn't feeling well and would not need my help. I was too tired to take the phone downstairs so I left it there.
The phone rang a little while later, the voice on the other side was obviously rather old. She yelled to be heard and had a crankiness to her voice. She said she was from the XXXXX Times and she heard about me from a name I had never heard of. I found out later it was a headhunter service but I had never contacted the place and they had never contacted me. Anyway the voice wanted to come in for an interview. I said sure but I was leaving town and would not be back until Tuesday. This upset the woman on the other end. I said I could come in today but that also upset her. So we made arrangements on Tuesday the 19th. I will always remember that because she said at least five times. TUESDAY THE 19th she would scream over and over. Yes. WILL YOU BE THERE. YOU BETTER BE THERE. TUESDAY THE 19th! I DON'T WANT TO COME IN IF YOU ARE NOT COMING. TUESDAY THE 19th!
It was an awful phone call. But I didn't really have anything to lose. It had been 17th months since I was fired from my old paper. The first few months were really tough. I felt like I had let down a lot of kids, especially the seniors. I would check the paper at the library and it broke me my heart all the stories that were not being told. All the teams that were no slipping through the cracks. And how it seemed no one else really cared.
I didn't even try to get a job for the first six months. I was getting half my salary a week from the government and the paper had to pony up because they knew they didn't have a legal leg to stand on for dismissing me. I did my job very well. I did the jobs of several people at the paper. And any antics on my part were greatly exaggerated. I heard from the grapevine some of the things they claimed and it was a joke someone would lie like that. The simple truth was I was the only person there on the editorial staff or layout staff that truly cared about being the best possible. For everyone else it was just a crummy job. For me it was a passion and at times I would get upset that no one else was on board for the task of doing the best you can. Mediocrity breeds a fear of passion and that is why I didn't fit in.
After I was fired the paper won two first place awards for my work and of course never mentioned it to me. The Hooper Awards run from August 1 to July 31. So the paper won a 2007 Hooper for my June 2006 work and then a 2008 for my August 2007 work. The general manager claimed otherwise and I don't think he was lying just misinformed. He claimed the second award for my replacement's August 2007 work and that the first award was for my August 2006 work. But those times frame don't work in the rules of the awards. When I pointed that out in a email- I never got a response so I assume I was correct.
If I would get the job at the XXXXXX Times, I would be a direct competitor with my old paper. That sounded intriguing but I just knew working with that voice wasn't going to work. But I had nothing to lose.
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