I had some dreams ... they were klowns in my koffee.

(With apologies to Carly Simon)

This is my journey through job transition from a toxic environment to a better life. Join me for a few thoughts and a few laughs along the way.
What are "klowns in my koffee"? They are the factors large and small that make you less than you are. A "klown" can be a grossly incompetent boss,
a short-sighted policy or a moronic coworker. They won't kill you, at least not immediately, but they abrade the soul
as you scrape past them to get through the day. Sometimes it's best to dump them out of the cup.


Day 235 - Looking at the Camera

Daily Kup (My Life as a Potential External Jobholder)
I received a call today from a headhunter who wanted to place me with a prominent local company for which I'd be paid a sum that handily exceeds the ration of gruel that I received from my former employer, "Porkus." I doubt this one will pan out since a colleague of mine interviewed and was deemed to have insufficient experience in hydraulics, an area that is not my strong suit either. But we'll see.

Every day there are a greater number of attractive jobs in my field. I hope to find one that either closely meets my needs or pays obscenely well on a relatively short contract.

Through a Different Lens
I've enjoyed presenting samples of the 1980's vintage videos of directors Kevin Dole and Sherry Revord for the past two days. Today, we'll wrap up the series with Kevin's mesmerizing 1986 music video for Eye in the Village, a self-styled "social media band." I was delighted to find that Kevin himself had posted this on YouTube, resolving a feeling of longing that I'd had since I returned my VHS copy to its rightful owner years ago.

Perhaps it's true. My still camera goes nearly everywhere with me. I sometimes wonder if I'm taking pictures without the experience of seeing in a mindful way what I am capturing. We talk about 'capturing' a scene but it may be that the photographer is captured in the process of starting to look at the surroundings through a lens. When you step outside yourself to document a scene, does your role as a chronologer separate you from being a participant?

I certainly used to think so. Kevin, always the director, would compulsively film with a hand-held movie camera wherever he was. He was a mop of dark hair with a lens sticking out the front. At left is a representation of how I appeared on film at the last jovial social gathering that I remember all of us attending together. Having mellowed a bit, I wonder if I couldn't have put up with it just a bit more. There is something comforting about viewing the world through a lens where you can edit out anything that you don't want to see.

My jungle telegraph informs me that Kevin, an ardent Francophile, is getting ready to film his long-awaited feature, the romantic comedy Kiss the Frog, in France this Spring. No word yet on the actors, but the movie will no doubt be as richly detailed as his works that we have explored together. I can't wait to see it.

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