Tag Archives: jobs

June 9, 2012 · 6:26 am

Internship Opportunity- Apply Within

I’m looking for an intern.

I hadn’t thought of this before but one of my super media savvy colleagues, and new member of the OITW Editorial Board has hired one for her site. This made me think I may have been missing out on one of the greatest free labor scams since my people were employed by the Egyptians 4000 years ago.

So here’s the deal. You college kids out there looking for a career in writing especially those of you who have exhausted all other options, consider an internship at Old And In The Way. This is an unpaid position, but if I like you and you do a good job for us, a $19.95 gift certificate at the Old and in the Way online Shoppe. You’d be awfully cool walking around on campus with the latest piece of OITW gear. Not to mention our world famous line of intimate apparel. Stuff is blowing off the shelves.

What do you have to do?

I have a list of stuff I’ve wanted to do here on Old and in the Way for like three years, but time, motivation and the distraction of great television have conspired to keep me from making this site the greatest blog in the universe.

By the way, as I’ve perused that ole’ internets I’ve realized content is not all that important. The damn net thing is chock a bloc full of some of the worst written and composed shyte you’d ever imagine. And most of those sites have 100X the exposure I do. Seriously. There’s a couple that I track out there that are so pathetic, it’s like a train wreck, I can’t look away, everyday I want to see what new low these self proclaimed authors will come up with, crappy content and poor spelling and grammar.

I know I should talk, but even in my darkest self-deprecating days, which in case you were wondering are usually Tuesday and occasionally Sundays, especially later in the day, I still recognize that this site is a far better read than a lot of stuff out there.. so you know they’re bad.

Off track again.. where was I… O yeah Interns.

I know this is probably a violation of the Americans With Disabilities Act but I’m going to have to insist that people with ADD, even if you’re bloodstream is saturated with Ritalin, will not be considered for this space. We can’t go having the entire staff getting distracted every time a bird flies into a window or someone somewhere pulls the tab on a beer can. Someone hasta get shit done around here and our newsroom down on the first floor is already choc a bloc (twice in one blog- I’m sure in a great mood, I uh woke up to Coleman Hawkins playing “Ruby My Dear” on the radio and found myself strangely happy this am. And since Coleman Hawkins has been dead for almost as long as I’ve been alive I thought it would be neat to drop a couple mid century terms into the dialogue. ) Speaking of beer… oh yeah interns.

One more note, please read the above paragraph to yourself several times over. Applicants, that’s pretty much how every conversation with me goes.. we switch topics at such a dizzying pace that even I, the conversation leader, gets confused as to what it was we were actually talking about. If you can deal with that, read on, the rewards are great!

The SELL- or Why you should be interested in being an Old and in the Way intern given that it doesn’t pay a dime, or do much for padding up your resume.

  • A chance to work with one of the most original thinkers I know. (small bow) Strategic planning, concept development, all skills I can pass on.
  • Work from home. I don’t have to see you, you can be virtual.This is a change BTW, when I started imaging an intern in my mind I was kinda imagining a certain gender and well, I was imaging the au pair I always wanted.I actually wanted to hire an au pair for our kids at one time. I thought that it would free up Mrs S from having to worry about whatever it is that she worries about.. no I can’t even fake it. Cousin had a series of au pairs, almost every summer. Nice 20 something girls from Sweden who would come over, live with the family and watch the kids. Cousin had a pool and the kids and the au pairs would hang out there in the afternoon. And.. I swear to you every father on the street would somehow find an excuse to be in my cousins kitchen promptly at 3:11 bumming butter, a beer, parsley, you name it.

    I like the idea but we don’t have a pool and my little goldfish pond out back ain’t gonna get the same kinda attention given that we have too many trees for tanning .. that and Mrs S said no. No, with extreme prejudice mind you.. Which reminds me, I’m out of blue cheese stuffed olives.. I think Curt had some when I was over there last.. back in August I think.. May hafta drop over. So Intern job one- I need a round trip ticket to NYC and a cab to Long Island to see if they have any olives. F’n martini ain’t gonna make itself dude.. get on it. And yes. I am a pig. Just know that upfront and we’ll get along fine.

  • Objective and pithy observations about the world around you. I can teach you how to see the little things in life that make things so interesting. You too will be able to write 500 words on a trip to Taco Bell for example.
  • Lunch, once a week, made by me. If you’re local that is.
  • Life lessons from 49 long assed years of living transferred to you a digestible manageable form.
  • Amazing insight into marriage and how to stay that way. Lesson 1- drop the au pair conversation quickly. BTW.. and sorry to digress again. More than one of the cousin’s neighbors had the same deal and a certain percentage of them wound up divorcing and marrying, yeah the au pair. I can not report on how that’s worked out. Intern candidates need not worry, I’m happily married to a woman who scares the shit out of me, that and practically speaking, an action like that would be, shall we say, prohibitively expensive. For me anyway.
  • Outstanding parenting skills. I’ll teach you how to be an effective parent while not getting up off the sofa.

What I expect:

  • Tech savvy aptitude. I’m a moron at many things. My 18 year old has been helping me navigate the confusing world of remote controls, DVR’s, iPods, pads and phones, Xboxes, Netflix, sprinkler timers, coffee timers, pill reminders, carbon monoxide monitors and rechargeable batteries since he was about 5. He’s going to college this summer and I’m going to need some new to help.
  • If you are local it sure wouldn’t hurt if you knew how to make good coffee.
  • Attention to detail which you can demonstrate by detailing my little eco friendly Scion, a couple times this summer. it’s the one with the rust on the door and the missing tail light. If you can get that weird funky stale corn chip/rotten milk/dead squirrel smell that I can’t explain out of the car, I may actually double your gift certificate. And no there is no bag of human heads in the trunk, people have asked and I’ve looked. Several times. Might be a body wrapped in the axels I don’t know about, it’s hard to drive, shift, text and drink coffee some mornings, I might’a hit something. I’ll check when I get home.. but I think it’s something my kids dropped somewhere in the car.
  • Menu planning would be a HUGE leg up. Maybe the deal winner to be honest. You provide me with a good menu every week I may marry you despite the actual cost. You go to the store and shop the groceries.. your OITW Gift Certificate just tripled baby, look’n at $59.85 in gear now- Shirt, thong and mouse pad.
  • I expect you to follow my only house rule- don’t pet the dog. Never works out so well when people want to pet my dog.
  • I don’t care if you’re looking at certain exotic websites during the day. You could make a case that your researching pop culture, as long as you follow my guidelines
    • Remember the rules of Spunk Shui, as explained by my hero Adam Carolla- keep your screen between you and any door my wife might come into, or any windows which are visible from the street.
    • If you find sites that are particularly interesting or valuable please log them on a piece of paper so our editorial staff can audit your work later.
    • Please clear you cookiecachehistory deal when you’re done researching. And uh, show me how to do that too in case I need to do some research.
  • Join me at my happy hour brainstorms. There’s probably more than few happy hours in it for you over the course of the summer. We have a certain casual approach gleaned from Mad Men around the Old and in the in Way offices that you might just appreciate. 3:00, reach down in the drawer and break out the Dewers and some glasses, its brainstorm time!
  • I’m especially interested in students who are the future B10ers. That would be Jack Welch’s Bottom 10%. For this project I don’t want to have to worry about having my job usurped by some upstart intern with actual writing talent. Please don’t be intimidated from applying just because you’ve been identified as “stupid”. I kinda like stupid. Stupid.

So what d’ya say kids. This is an amazing opportunity to learn some serious life lessons from a guy who’s lived it honestly, lesson you will carry with you through marriage and family. You’ll get a chance to update and fix-up an up and coming website. What better things do you have to do this summer?

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June 1, 2010 · 10:32 pm

Stop- when you’re done and other advice I ignore

Knowing when to stop. A big issue for me, really. Especially when it comes to trimming stuff; bushes, grass; hair. Memorial Day Monday is the day where, every year without exception, I find myself out in the yard doing what I hate more than anything, yard work. Mostly trimming overgrown stuff and trying to put a neat and tidy appearance on the house to beguile opinions of neighbors. Let them think that on the inside we’re just as neat and proper as we appear to be on the outside. Please overlook the 25 year old rider mower on the front lawn that as of 2:00 on Monday afternoon stopped working. It’s not all that neat.

Hold the “told ya so’s”. it’s a simple thing.. drive belt for the blades needs replacement. And something needs to be done about the starter, but other than that its. Oh and new battery. And uh,  the gear shift mechanism has some issues, doesn’t like to go from neutral to forward for some reason. Have to really wiggle and pull on it. But, other that those minor inconveniences, runs like a top. Cuts the grass really nice also, at least it did the two times I got to use it. We’ll have the issues corrected soon. I promise. And, we’ll post the bill to the neighbor across the street who has yet to buy into the mower pool.

I hate yard work, a fact recognized by the family, so when I grabbed the lopping shears, sunscreen and 12 back of bottled water and headed for the hated island in the middle of the lawn, the one with the really hated junipers, Mrs S met me at the door. “Remember the golden rule of family yard work Sank”. I never remember rules very well. You could say that I look at rules, especially artificial rules imposed by the family Warden as “guidelines”. Rules have to be followed or severe consequences will be incurred. Guidelines, well guidelines should be followed, for harmony, but should something interesting or should the pain in the ass factor dictate otherwise, I never feel all that compelled to adhere to guidelines.

Mrs S’s “Rule/Guideline”, THAT WHICH THOU STARTEST, THOU MUST FINISHITH”. She proclaimed said guideline/rule in pretty much those exact words. Well, first of all I’m not Finnish I’m French and as such this doesn’t even make sense. And, like all good men with adult onset ADD, I’m very likely to work in a fury for about 20 minutes or until a tool is discovered to be inadequate or something I need isn’t right at hand, at which point I’m likely to go off into the garage and become distracted by any of number of neat things, including the beer fridge. Mrs S is aware of this and was trying to say, as she did later. “the kids should see you finish something, not see you come in to yell at them to finish it.”

I have no idea what she’s even talking about.

Then, “guideline/directive” number two- KNOW WHEN TO STOP. This one I get. Every year, at trimming time I cut. I cut overgrown branches, I cut dead stuff, I shape shrubs, (does that make me a “shruberer?”) I trim stuff. When you have a set of pruning sheers in your hand and you’re up to your ample butt in overgrown bushes you sometimes lose sight of the big picture. Well I always lose sight of the big picture and this year is no exception. Cut cut cut, snip snip snip.. OK this juniper thing is hanging over the border here and here.. and moving in on this plant here, and “Sank, enough” and I’ll just clip these dead things here. .”OK Sank, looks good now.. “ and cut here and here. “Sank.. nice job.. love it.” And then these need to come off, and this top growth here should be trimmed and, “Hey Scissorhands, looks fantastic, be done”. And one last branch.. and this should do it. .

Snip.

And with that last snip, literally… one half of the bush, or one whole side, fell over.

Crap.

I’ ve done it again.

“Sank..” and a glance to heaven and a head shake was all she could come up with. Good news, this year, while using the hedge trimmer I did NOT cut through the extension cord.. I’ve done that almost every year for the last 15 years. So I’m making progress right?

I was done. Fine. I stopped to admire my work. Other than the big hole in the middle of juniper I thought the yard looked pretty good, except for the huge piles of brush and leaves all over the lawn. Kids can get that. I went inside and poured myself a soothing adult beverage. Kids were sitting on the sofa watching more Futurama reruns. “Get out there and help would you.. I’ve left a pile of brush for you guys to pick up.”

Mrs S made came in from the yard and started in on the Scandinavians again. She must not like Finns for some reason because she was once again yelling at me about being Finnish and not Finnish and making kids Finnish. It was all very confusing and had to lay down until my head cleared.

Speaking of heads-

So I went too far on the pruning, it’s a problem, I don’t know what to do about it. Before settling in for my afternoon nap I decided to give myself the bi-weekly haircut. Yes fans I cut my own hair. I keep it nice and tight and because of that, have saved my family thousands of clams in hair products, haven’t worried about  my own graying hair and picked up about 20 minutes in the morning since I have to do nothing to my head. If you can mow a lawn, you can cut my hair. It’s not rocket science; just mow it with the clippers.

In the summer I cut it outside to save the mess of little hairs all over the bathroom. I grabbed the shears, put the #2 guard on it, plugged it in and applied the device to my scalp. First pass.. “reeaow” down the side of my head. Another. And another. Hair is falling on the deck, nothing unusual. Switch hands.. bit of fumble in the transfer, didn’t think anything of it. Apply device to scalp and make a pass. This time “BZZZZRRRPPPP” much louder. That was weird. Second pass.. wow. That time, the clump of hair that came off, MUCH bigger than the previous.. longer too.

There’s a weirdness that occurs when a adult male brain, dulled by years of slow pickling and nonsensical  conversations with family members about confusing topics like children’s “rights”, things that are “fair” and non-existent Finnish connections, when that brainputs together  all the evidence in front of it and serves up too the consciousness a correct interpretation of events. In this case..that something had gone terribly wrong with my clippers. There on the deck, at my feet was laying the guard, the #2 guard that cut my hair to a ½ inch height. It was lying in a pile of hair which was about 1 inch long. I did the math.

I cut my hair at about 1 inch. I cut it back ½ inch to keep me from having to brush it. If it was at 1 inch and the guard is missing, 1 inch long minus the 1 inch on the ground..

Yeah.. the result is BALD. I’d basically shaved my head. In two spots.

You have two options in this case. Follow Mrs S’s advice and “be done”. The spots will grow back and no one will notice, well they’ll be polite enough not to say anything if they do. I hope. OR.. “Get’r done” which I did.

Had to match the grass all around.. shaved it off to a decent 5:00 shadow. Actually it looks and feels like my old GI Joe with the King Fu Grip. He had a brillo hair thing going too.

After I finished I went back the house and to the fridge for another soothing adult beverage. More soothing now I hoped because my scalp was experiencing some weird sensations of air and sun and other stimuli which heretofore were unknown to it. Ran into Mrs S in the kitchen. She stared, shook her head like one does when one suffers fools and remarked “Seriously Sank. Seriously, KNOW WHEN TO STOP”.  Oh and FINNISH.. Again with the Finns.. “Kids- go clean up my hair out there and bring in the clippers would you, they need to sit on the sink in the bathroom for a week before I put them away”.

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