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I moved here to New York on July 7th, 1993. As I've written in the past, I quit a job in the Graphic Arts I had worked at for 13 years in Peoria, Illinois, cashed in my pension plan, sold my car, my furniture, my stereo, my records and my TV and moved to 75th and Broadway on the Upper West Side of Manhattan. I knew about five people, had no job lined up and I was excited and scared out of my fucking wits.
Through one of the people I knew, Dick Stolley, I got interviews right off the bat at People magazine, Entertainment Weekly and In Style magazine all at Time, Inc. My dream was to get a staff job at one of them, make a decent wage during the day and then do something of my own in my free time. Well, dreams don't always come true. I think all the people I interviewed with thought I was some sort of freak and they all were amazed that Dick Stolley suggested they interview me.
And so I moved on to the not so lucrative world of freelance writing. The first newspaper I wrote for was a weekly, called appropriately enough, NY Weekly. The first review I did for them I made up, but they got even. They went bankrupt six months later owing me over $2,000 for freelance features I had written for them. At least I had some clippings.
I wrote for some other weekly papers, like the Manhattan Spirit, Our Town and Manhattan Mirror. The going rate there was about fifty bucks for a feature and I started the uneasy monthly process of watching a bank account dwindling in reverse towards an unfriendly town known as Brokeville.
I did get some decent freelance pieces for a couple of the daily papers, both the NY Daily News and New York Newsday published some features of mine, but I didn't see a staff job in the future at either of those papers or anywhere.
So, by April of 1994, I was down to five thousand bucks and I knew I had to look for some kind of a night job. Again, I don't like to blog about where I've worked, so we'll call the first place I got a job at, Company A, which was located in downtown Manhattan, near the corner of Broadway and Houston. Company A was great, I was able to score a three day work week, working twelve hours a day and a weekend about once a month. This allowed me to publish my magazine fishwrap, which made fun of all those motherfuckers who wouldn't hire me. I also started writing freelance for a new, but promising magazine called, Time Out New York, which was located on the same block as Company A.
In 1997 Company A was bought out by Company B. The owner of Company B, wasn't as cool as the owner of Company A, but he didn't seem like a bad guy and said he was going to keep Company A right where it was and not touch it. Three months later he shut down Company A and we moved into a big building where Company B was located, which was a block away from Penn Station, a part of town I don’t care much for. It was a big place and there was a lot of people running around and while most of them were nice people, it was more corporate than Company A and so after working there a couple weeks I quit. I tried to get more freelance going, but outside of Time Out New York, I wasn't getting much work. After about six months with little paying work, I realized I was going to be sleeping in front of Penn Station, so I called Company B and asked if I could get my job back. They were very busy and said I could come back. I settled in and it wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be. I continued to do my magazine fishwrap and worked my job. I continued the three day a week shift and time moved on.
In 2000 Company B was bought by Company C. Company C was an English company and moved the whole operation to another building a few blocks away in the same shitty part of town. It was for the most part inhabited by the same employees as Company B, but some got fired and some quit and they merged with another company, I think. It's all a little hazy. Anyway, I still had the three day week and was happy for the most part. The years rolled on.
I'm really fuzzy about this date, but let's say for the sake of an argument it was 2003. We found out we were getting bought out by yet another company, I'll call Company D. I heard a rumor my three day week was in jeopardy, so I interviewed at another place, we'll call Company E. I negotiated a four day week there and put my notice in at Company D. Company E turned out to be a horror show. A complete sweat shop and an owner, who was, well, let's just say, a little dubious. I hated it there. After about a half a year of working a job I hated and being really depressed, I got a call from a friend who was leaving Company D and wondered if I would like my old job back. Did I ever! I went back, talked to my boss and he said I could have my old job back. He reminded me though, that once again, I had lost all my benefits and would have to start all over. I didn't care, I just wanted to get as far away from Company E as I could. I was back at Company D and was thrilled to be back there.
A couple of years later we got bought out by a really big company, I'll call Company F. Somewhere in this time frame I also got shuffled to a five day week. While I wasn't thrilled about that, one thing I forgot to write is that Company D which had morphed into Company F was a ten minute walk from my apartment. So the location was great, I liked most of the people I worked with and I started blogging and all was good.
Then about six months ago, Company F announced that it was moving its production facilities out of New York City. Part of it was staying in the city, but my part was moving away to a place we’ll refer to as Facility G. And Facility G is lot further away than my old ten minute walk. In fact it’s not even in New York City. Basically if I went, I wouldn't be able to do much of a blog and after thinking about it for a few days and just as many beers, I decided I wasn't going to go.
And now, I'm right back where I started when I moved here in 1993. No job, but I'm still writing and I’ve got this new blog. I'm excited and scared out of my fucking wits.
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I never posted any photos of where I worked, but since it was emptied out, I took some shots from my last day at work and here they are.
It was weird working there the last week and seeing all the rooms slowly empty out.
Airhoses dangle in a room filled with ghosts of production past. It actually felt a little creepy in there the last couple days. My department was one of the last to be moved, so I was there all alone.
I always got a kick out of this, "REFRIDGERATOR" sign. Obviously it's been around a while and must've been printed in pre-spell check days.
Most everything had been stripped off the walls, except for this piece of art by C. Powers. I couldn't stand to see it go to waste...
So I put it in a box that was headed over to Facility G. I hope they hang it in a nice place!
Speaking of walls...what's that over there...
Aaaaahhh!
It’s Saturday and time to roll out the blooper reel of photos I took through the week that didn't make it into a post. Have a great day and we'll see you tomorrow for Cheeseburger Saturday Night!
But I don't want to meke my own pasta! What, do I look like Chef Boy Arr Dee over here?
This just in...happiness can be bought, in the form of a discounted chocolate bar!
Well, you know the economy is still in the shitter when there's a line out the door for a horrible one dollar slice of pizza.
This wins the award for the most disturbing thing I saw in a window all week.
ConEdison...sticking our thumb up your ass since 1823!
Speaking of ass...
Nope, that's all you need to say! Thanks!
Uh...I just told you, you don't need to say anything else. I hear you loud and clear!
SHUT THE FUCK UP!
Aaaaahhhh!
Blloopers, 
