Wednesday, May 30, 2012

That Day

Quote from "How to Learn English - A Reader for Foreigners", c.1911 Macmillan Co, New York.
"My sleeping room was very pleasant.  In one corner was an iron bed.  It was painted white.  In another corner was a bureau.  On one side of the room was a washstand.  There were two chairs in the room.  One of the chairs was a rocking-chair.  There was also a closet in the room.  I hung my clothes in the closet.  There was no carpet on the floor.  There were three rugs on the floor.  The room had three large windows.  There were pretty curtains at the windows.  The windows were open at the top.  There was plenty of fresh air in the room. I slept very well."  

This remarkable book came to me on that Tuesday.  In April 2012.  A day of new beginnings.  People always came to America to start over.  Clueless government officials try to force our lives into the crowded backward urban designs they found so charming on their latest European vacations and fact-finding junkets. (Next time you hear a government planner use the word "sustainable", ask yourself what impact the accompanying "sustainable" suggestion will have on private property rights.  You may be surprised.)

As the plans are laid upon the populace, with or without the consent of the governed, one thing they ignore::  With few exceptions, there came a day in the lives of our forefathers when they looked around their smothering tiny European lives and said: "Enough of this!  I'm going to America, where I can breathe free!" People came to America to live their lives in a place where they were free to realize their own dreams, to earn their living, and keep their earnings. (for the most part.)

Stacy (co-worker, not her name) on That Day gave me the book.  She found it in her mother's house. Her mother is making a new start of it in an old folk's home.  Jane, (nope, not her name either- i'm working with complete strangers!) another co-worker was moving her father to a retirement home, and she was organizing all of his things to close down the family house.  The Liquidation Life. A time of new beginnings.

And since that Tuesday, early in April, 2012, I have embarked upon a liquidation project of my own.  I reported to the Day Job, on That Day

There was a short company meeting.  One owner was retiring, and the other owner had sold the business.  That would mean the end of my 30-year employment.   I was invited to stay on as a liquidator until the job was done.  I accepted, and have increased my work hours back to 40 or more (I had been part time).  It's like having all the free drink tickets you want in the Executive Lounge of the Titanic.  "Another cognac, Monseur?  Oh, pay no attention to ze rumbling, it is only ice water"


So, that's where I am now. The Lord of Liquidation. One day we sold six trucks.  SIX TRUCKS!  Sold the gasoline from the underground tanks.  Selling parts back to distributors, at a slight discount.  We sold the company web site, which I've been working on since the year Al Gore invented the World Wide Web, sold to the ones who bought the business.  I created a bare-bones old-school HTML liquidation web site (which rocks!)   I created Excel tables, which create HTML tables from the product data, and Excel pages which create DOS batch files that generate HTML files.  The new web-site contains over 1000 HTML files, and today we launched our first wave of publicity, and got a satisfying response.  In short, everything I've learned in the last 30 years is being poured into this final effort.  I've not even started the job hunt - I should, I've had only one interview, but it feels so good to be working at capacity.  I should spend time working on a show I'm performing the last Saturday in June.  I should spend more time on my own web site clients' projects.  I should be spending more time promoting our vacant rental properties.  And what about all the loyal Excelsior readers?  I miss you all, and I missed Darlene's birthday last week.  Sorry, Darlene - Happy Birthday!

But, right now, there is no time.  I suppose The Time will all arrive at once..... Sooner or later, somebody is going to buy Item 125, at which I spent 30 sorta happy years. So, this year, Independence Day will have a special significance.

1 comment:

Leslie Hanna said...

Aw, Gary. :( Thirty years is a long time. No chance to be "acquired" by the company that bought yours? I hope wherever you land, that the occasional tweet continues to generate business. You should add this skill to your resume -- potential employers will love you.


PS: I used to have a desk like that.