Comment?

President of Iran, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad , spoke at Columbia University and the U.N. a few days ago. Last night he spoke with Charlie Rose.

Tonight the president of Bolivia was discussing the reforms he has led in his country.

This appeared September 19 in the LA Times about dying languages.

Over the past few days I'm hearing more and more about languages. Something I've never been taught with relation to journalism is how to handle a translator. I think I would be inclined to speak to the translator and not the interviewee. During Charlie Rose's conversation, he was persistent in trying to get the president to answer the question he asked, not the question Ahmadinejad wanted to answer. The beauty of a translated interview is one of the parties could feign misunderstanding. Perhaps something got lost in translation.

The L.A. Times piece is pretty interesting and thought provoking. K. David Harrison is the associate director of the Living Tongues Institute for Endangered Languages.

"When we lose a language, we lose centuries of thinking about time, seasons, sea creatures, reindeer, edible flowers, mathematics, landscapes, myths, music, the unknown and the everyday," he said.

In my limited study of French, langue d'amour, I found that knowing another language, even in three word phrases, changed the way I thought and the way I described things. It did get me a date, but my poor command of the language didn't get a second date. I knew I should have taken Italian or aller a un restaurant français. So I suppose the note cards with scribbled french verb conjugations had their value.

Harrison discussed the dying languages on The Colbert Report. He said how in some places there is only one person who still speaks the soon-to-be-extinct language. Which makes me wonder: if a man is the only person who speaks a language and there's no one to talk with, who does he complain to? Do his complaints and conversations fall on deaf ears?
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Listening to: Ray Brown Jimmy Rowles - That's All
via FoxyTunes

Baby, she wrote me a letter

Thanks, but no thanks.

Received a letter in the mail today with the company I interviewed with early last week.

I'm bitter when it comes to being rejected. Some people take it in style and cast a wide net. I prefer a more targeted approach, highly selective some call it.

Time to go over The letter. It started by thanking me for taking time out of my busy schedule. I appreciate the the insinuation that I have things to do, but frankly looking for a job and Law & Order consume my day. So, if you call that busy...

It goes on to say that while they were impressed with my qualifications they have decided to continue with other applicants. Here's the problem I have with that. To me it suggests that I looked better on paper than in person, which anyone who has met me knows I clean-up nice.

Here's what I have come to in my bitterness:

• I don't like sentences that begin with "while." They just set you up for a one-two punch to the noggin. It reminds me of this girl in grammar school whose bread and butter was "no offense, but..." It's one of those things that aggravates me.
  
• I am not dressing up for future interviews. Time to let the real Andrew out. The sleeveless shirt wearing-didn't-get-a-shower-in-yet, take-it-or-leave-it comedian.
• From now on I ask "did I get it?" before I leave
• I want to be refunded for my expended energy and time: gas, shower, tire wear, episodes of Law and Order I missed, wasted thought on the job
• Why do they write good luck? I don't need their platitudes, I need a job. Last time I checked I can't pay for groceries with pleasantries.
  

Someday if I have hiring power or my own company this is how I would word a rejection letter:

Dear Job Hunter,

We have picked someone else. This is no reflection on you or your qualifications. As you may already know, we are inept at picking future candidates and the person we picked will likely leave us for a higher paying job within the next year making us regret this hire. But thanks for your time.

Job Hirer

P.S. We don't reimburse for gas or dry cleaning.

But hey, that's love.

The thing is no matter what you say in the reject letter the recipient is going to hate you anyway. You might as well give them some good ammo for their ensuing rants. I'd like to make the reject letter fridge-worthy rather than garbage-worthy.

Back to square one.


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Listening to: Count Basie & Joe Williams - Every Day I Have The Blues
via FoxyTunes

Courting a career

"Interview?" the casually dressed man asked me after I entered the elevator.

As the only person dressed to impress in the lift it was a fair assumption.

"Yep," I responded.

He asked how it went and I told him I thought it went well, at least I hoped it did.

That was about a week ago. This semi-diligent job seeker finally landed an in-person interview. I vaulted through the glass ceiling of dreaded, impersonal phone interviews and made it to the real deal. Luckily no freight trains impeded my arriving on time.

I arrived at the office about five minutes earlier and shortly thereafter was greeted by one of my interviewers. She took me to her desk to show me some of their projects so I would have a better understanding of what they do. After sitting through a few and asking questions I met with another woman. She had a few prepared questions which I thought I handled well. In the days leading up to the interview I had printed out a list of common interview questions to expect and to ask. Thankfully, I wasn't asked about a time I failed or where I see myself in five years. The interview was rather relaxed. I closed the interview by asking what the next step was, as I read is strongly encouraged. This woman wasn't sure but gave me her card and said if I had any other questions to email her.

The next morning I emailed both of the women a thank you note and stressed my interest in the position and that I think it would be challenging but rewarding.

I anxiously awaited the email or call to schedule another interview but am still waiting. This tentative "did I get it/did I flub it?" mentality brings me to the topic of this entry: finding a job is like finding a mate.

Unreturned phone calls. That uneasy, hopeful feeling when you first meet. You painstakingly go over the minute details, what you said, what she said, body language.

With each day that passes more self-doubt creeps in. Initially I was pleased with the interview. Now I'm wondering what mistakes I made and what I could have done differently. I was thinking how I could have better phrased my experience at my internship last year. In general I tend to over analyze things and dwell on them for a long time if they don't go as I envisioned.

Dating is like interviewing in that you dress at or near your best with interviews requiring nicer attire than a date. You have to be on your game. Convey your interest, but don't talk too much. Listen. I utilize the head nod of understanding that clearly conveys "I'm picking up what you're putting down."

Conversion chart:
"I'll call/contact you." = "No, really. I'll pay for myself." = Thanks but no thanks.
"You're unique." = "I pray I never see you again."

Hopefully I will get some positive news Tuesday about another interview or, even better, a job offer. You have to think positively. I have an interview lined up with my previous employer for a sports writing job so we'll see how that goes.

So, this maybe the last labor day I'll be without a career!

Pleasant job hunting or enjoy the day off. Looks like my elevator is on its way up.


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Listening to: Bill Evans - Minority
via FoxyTunes

Illegibly yours

Penmanship just isn't that important for most gen X-ers.

There wasn't much time devoted to teaching proper penmanship. While we had the lined paper and the uber-big caricatures of what the letters should look like, writing in longhand wasn't stressed. I always felt it was faster to print than write in cursive. I attempted to use cursive, but I never mastered it.

Sporadically you come across someone who still writes in cursive. I think they must have had the nuns "instilling" the importance of legibility.

Thinking about my previous entry about celebrity and requesting autographs I thought about how illegible autographs are these days. The musicians quickly scribble their name on the CD jacket. Perhaps this evolved out of signing numerous albums for fans and wanting to get through them quickly instead of distinguishing each letter of their name. Nowadays you're lucky to pick out the first letter of their first and last name.

I have fallen into this laziness/expediency as well. I blame a few things, seeing as it clearly isn't my fault but some external factor.

The digital age has led to more typing than writing by hand. Word offers a number of fonts if I really want to make it look like I wrote a note or paper by hand. The large shift to digital writing came around high school. Why write twice? I can type up my thoughts in the 'ole word processor, spell check, save and print. While typing seems more efficient I believe it removes a step from the writing process. Whenever I write on paper I have more time to reorganize and collect my thoughts. I am not focusing on the red and green squiggly lines under my prose. Instead I doodle my own "art" in the margins. Also by writing things out you are forced to edit what you wrote when you eventually type up what you wrote.

The other thing I blame is the credit card signing machines in stores. I used to try to distinguish each letter of my name but now it's a big A followed by one of those wavy lines, a break and another indecipherable line. It makes no difference in the store if my signature really looks like my signature. Unfortunately, my real signature now resembles the one on the credit card machines.

Go here and see if you would have been able to match the scribble to the scribe. My theory is that over time signatures have become less decipherable and more unique (perhaps to combat forgery). We surely have come a long way from John Hancock.

Sign here

Get it in writing they always say.

It's story time:

A young boy eagerly attended a Cubs game with his Uncle and cousins. Hoping to get his first signed ball. The ball was neon orange and green, slightly used. Once at the park the uncle took the ball and went behind the dugout to see about getting some autographs. The ball went unsigned. Derrick Mays didn't sign colored balls.

For all you sleuths reading this, you may have already gathered that the young boy was this underpaid, under-utilized writer. Go ahead. Get the Kleenex. I'll wait.

This was one of the first big disappointments from a superstar. One of many I could expect from the Cubs style of baseball. For the record I didn't want Mays' signature. I was after Sosa's.

I've never really been star crazy, hungry for autographs. It seems like by asking someone to sign something you are elevating them above you. Putting them on a pedestal. I'll admit there are many people with great talent in this world. Athletes, movie stars, comedians, rock stars. They all get bombarded to sign various things.

Recently I've deviated from my no autograph policy. While I still firmly believe that stars are people too, no better than most of us (possibly much worse), of late I have requested some scribbles. I feel awkward doing it. The past requests have all been of jazz artists I really dig. (I use the word 'dig' because Kurt Elling used it and I feel it's one of the ways I can show that I'm hip and "get" jazz.)

Now, I conceptualize autographs like photos. They commemorate an evening. When I saw "Fathead" Newman at the Jazz Showcase I purchased his CD and asked him to sign. I also asked the other band members. They stated that they didn't play on the CD. I wasn't concerned with that detail. All I knew was that I saw them play that night.

My second signing was the incomparable Kurt Elling at the Green Mill. I went up in between sets and offered up my CD to the altar of musical gospel. He signed and gave a smile out of the side of his mouth and returned to sorting through his sheet music.

The final one was Karrin Allyson also at the Mill. I went to her after the final set of an amazing show that I didn't want to end. She gave a sincere thanks and off I went. I think I said the show was amazing or phenomenal.

Despite saying earlier that artists/stars are just like everyone else there is something different. When I've gone up I am not quite sure what to say. Like conversations with strangers at a bar, you cant really engage in meaningful conversation. I have yet to say anything unique or distinguishable. Most times it's "I love your style" or "You're great." They respond "thanks" and that concludes the "conversation." There is a certain level of admiration for people who you hear on the radio or see on the screen. They are both like you and not at the same time.

I guess I have more respect for musicians, especially jazz, than I do for athletes, especially ones who don't provide their paying fans with autographs. I am not sure if someday down the road I want to be the one taking requests for autographs. In whatever I end up doing I want to be respected as a leader in the field (power napping?). In the corporate world I have a feeling signatures are only valuable on contracts. I doubt people run up and ask you to sign a TPS report.

I am looking forward to getting some signatures...on my paychecks!