“When Santa Claus Gets Your Letter,” Gene Autry with the Cass County Boys, 1950
The Singing Cowboy fills us in on what happens to all those letters that end up at the North Pole.
TRIVIA: The Cass County Boys were accordionist Fred Martin, guitarist Jerry Scoggins, and bassist Bert Dodson. The Boys regularly performed with Autry on his radio program “Melody Ranch” and appeared in several of Autry’s films and TV shows.
This wonderfully self-aware tune (the first line is “Welcome to my Christmas song!”) was written and composed by Elton John and Bernie Taupin and would go on to reach #1 on Billboard’s Christmas Singles chart.
TRIVIA: “Step into Christmas” was mixed to imitate Phil Spector’s “wall of sound” technique.
You are listening to ‘300 Seconds with Eduardo Soliz,’ and this is episode number one hundred and 112, “A Furry Thing Happened on the Way to the Convention,” so let the 300 Seconds begin!
For the last eight years and change, I have been a member of the furry community. I have gone to furry conventions, written furry stories, published furry story collections, given furry presentations, taken lots of pictures of fursuiters, and made many new furry friends. While my furry experience has been wonderful so far, like so many things in my life, it sometimes gets a little weird. Okay, make that weirdER…
While not my first furry convention; Furry Fiesta 2013 was significant for me, because unlike the previous year, which was my first furcon, I now had a number of friends that were also going also to be there. Just like everything else in life, having friends around makes conventions a lot more fun.
One evening during the convention, I went with some friends to eat at a restaurant. The food was good, the company was pleasant, and we all enjoyed a nice meal. While waiting to receive our checks, the manager approached our table and asked us how everything was. We let her know that we were happy with the food and service. She noticed that some of us were wearing our convention badges, so she asked if we were in town for a convention. We answered that yes, we were, but nobody had an answer for the obvious follow-up question:
“What kind of convention is it?”
Everybody at the table, including myself, instantly froze up. I have never before, in my entire life, seen seven grown adults go totally deer-in-headlights. Everybody looked back and forth at each other, expecting somebody else to say something. Finally, after about ten seconds of awkward silence, somebody said: “It’s an ART convention!” That answer immediately snapped everybody out of their daze and the rest of the evening went on as expected.
For what it’s worth, I came up with a five-word explanation of furry that tends to satisfy most folk’s curiosity, and those five words are: “Nerds who like cartoon animals.”
For the last few years, I have presented educational panels at various conventions in Texas including RealmsCon, Comicpalooza, Fiesta Equestria, and San Japan. I’ve talked about publishing e-books, recording audio, and of course, furries, in a panel called Furry 101. The point of Furry 101 is to give outsiders the low-down on what furries are all about. In the interest of full disclosure, I do also include some of the weird stuff, but since the panel is for an all-ages audience, I can’t go too far.
A few years ago at San Japan, I was presenting Furry 101 to an audience of about two hundred people, my largest audience ever. As I’m doing so, I’m looking over my audience, making sure that I have their attention and looking to see that I don’t have too many people walking out. One person that stuck out was a gentleman that looked to be a bit older. Not super-old, mind you, but in an anime convention, if you’re over 40, you’re going to stick out a little bit. I figured he was there with his child. Much to my delight, he looked to be engaged in the presentation, but the expression on his face became, shall we say, less happy once I got to the weird stuff. Don’t get me wrong, it isn’t that weird, but the presentation slide that mentions adult art certainly got his attention. I felt terrible after the fact, thinking: “Oh my God. I have totally ruined furry for his kid. They’re going to be locked away in their home forever and never be allowed to associate with those ‘animal people weirdos’ ever again.”
Fast forward a few months. Come to my surprise, I bumped into the gentleman and his child at Furry Fiesta. If I remember correctly, his name was Kevin. He thanked me for the presentation, much to my relief. I’ve spoken with a few more parents after Furry 101 since then and have even come across a few folks that have joined the fandom after attending my panel. Granted, the panel is not supposed to be a recruiting tool, but if folks want to join the club after the fact, who am I to argue?
This has been 300 Seconds, the next episode will be posted after I insert more subliminal messages into my Furry 101 panel slides. I am Eduardo Soliz, if you’d like to hear more 300 seconds subscribe via your favorite podcast app and check out my website at Eduardo Soliz dot com. Thank you for listening! Be good, take care, and God bless.
You are listening to ‘300 Seconds with Eduardo Soliz,’ and this is episode number 111: “My Coronavirus Story Part 5: Back to Irk,” so let the 300 Seconds begin!
After being laid off from my job back in April, or a few episodes ago, as the case may be, I started looking for a new job online, and, as many of you Dear Listeners are aware, the pickings in 2020 are pretty slim. As in-person job fairs are out of the question right now, I attended online virtual job fairs which were just as virtually terrible as the real-life ones, so score one for consistency.
From May to September, I had a total of three interviews including one of those awful virtual ones where you awkwardly record answers to questions into your webcam. Fortunately, the third time was the charm, and thus, I started a new contract-to-maybe-there’s-possibly-a-chance-you-might-just-could-be-hired gig a few weeks ago. It would be an understatement to say that I’ve had to make just a few life adjustments in going back to living a nine-to-five life.
The biggest and most immediate adjustment I had to make was to my sleeping habits. In my effort to lose weight, I had been waking up early in order to go for a walk in the mornings. But as the Texas summer got hotter and hotter, I shifted to walking in the evenings which of course, meant sleeping in. According to Google Maps, my new office was about thirty miles away. That meant that I had to wake up pretty early to make it to work on time. Funny thing about me: I don’t have trouble waking up early. Once I hear my alarm, I’m up. No problem there. But as a night owl, going to bed early is something of a challenge. So while I might be up at five-thirty in the morning, I won’t exactly be “up and at ‘em.”
Thus, a morning commute became a thing again, and of course, with a commute comes traffic. I had to drive from one side of San Antonio to the other, so my commute was going to be thirty miles of suck regardless of which route I took. I eventually settled into taking the route that presented the most opportunities to stop for breakfast along the way. Being stuck in a traffic jam is much easier to deal with when you have a Breakfast on a Bun from Whataburger along for the ride.
My new job has me working in an office, so that means I have to ‘mask up’ every day. Since my pandemic travels up to this point were limited to the grocery store and the occasional drive-thru window, I had been making do with a few cloth masks, or the occasional shop towel mask whenever those were in the wash. I now needed enough masks so that I could wear a different one each day. I also had to get masks with solid colors or patterns that would be office-appropriate. Of course, in the process of doing so, I ended up buying one or two that fit too tight because I have a big head. Another fun big head thing that I have to deal with was that some masks would begin to irritate my ears after several hours of wearing. Fortunately, I improvised an ‘ear saver’ using a rubber band and a pair of paper clips.
If there is one thing that I definitely need at work, it’s coffee. I rarely drink it outside of the office, but when it’s provided by the company, then I am more than happy to partake. When working from home, I would enjoy an occasional cup of Nescafe to keep the neurons firing. I don’t know if this is how the new office works or if this is a virus thing, but there isn’t any coffee available at the office. There aren’t any vending machines where I can grab a soda, either, and at the risk of being ‘that guy:’ I CAN’T WORK UNDER THESE CONDITIONS.
Where there’s a will, there’s a way, but Will’s not here so I have to solve my own problems. I happen to have a mini-fridge that holds six cans of soda. I’d purchased it during my days as a field technician, but that’s a story for another time. In any case, problem solved! Almost. In the interest of watching my budget, I bought generic diet cola. I quickly began to notice that I wasn’t feeling the caffeine boost that I was accustomed to getting from a soda in the afternoon; my metaphorical tail was still dragging after chugging one down. I randomly checked the ingredients on the can one day and discovered, to my horror, that generic soda contained less than half the caffeine of the name brand stuff. I guess that’s why it costs a buck and a quarter for a six-pack!
This has been 300 Seconds, the next episode will be posted after I set my alarm. For more witty words written by me, visit Eduardo Soliz dot com, and I thank you for listening. Be good, take care and God Bless.
You are listening to ‘300 Seconds with Eduardo Soliz,’ and this is episode number 110, “Freaking Metal Phones,” so let the 300 Seconds begin!
I’ve owned a number of smartphones over the years, starting with a T-Mobile Dash running Windows Mobile 6 over a decade ago. Since then, I bounced over to Android, went through a weird time when I had a not-so-smartphone, enjoyed Windows Phone for a spell until Microsoft gave up on it, and had a few iPhones. I currently have an Android phone…for now.
I’ve never really been overcome with ‘techno-lust’ when shopping for a phone, probably because I tend to think of my smartphone as a communications device. I use it for email, social media, and yes, the occasional phone call or text message. I don’t watch movies or TV shows or listen to music on it, and I don’t think I’ve ever installed a game on my phone, except maybe for spending a few weeks with Angry Birds just like everybody else.
That lack of techno-lust combined with my desire to not overspend on a phone, meant that I ended up with quite a few ‘middle of the road’ (and yes, occasionally cheap) phones. Nearly all of those phones had cases made of plastic or rubber or some kind of weirdo mix between the two. Because I wasn’t spending a lot of money on my phone, I never felt the need to buy a case for it because replacing the phone would be fairly inexpensive if something bad were to happen. Also, when you buy a less-expensive phone, cases tend to be harder to find. It’s like the people that make them are busy concentrating on the folks with money. You know, those rich folks buying iPhones and Galaxys. I was also lucky to have never cracked a screen despite my occasional case ofthe butterfingers. And sure, that plastic case might pick up a ding or a scuff here and there, but I could live with that.
Naturally, all that changed a few years ago when I decided to quit being a cheapskate and buy a ‘nice phone’ in the form of an iPhone 6. I’ll admit, the little nerd in my head went ‘ooh, shiny’ when the guy at the store took it out of the box. As part of the deal, I was entitled to some free accessories. The salesman encouraged me to get a case for my phone, and I agreed. After all, I didn’t want anything bad to happen to my shiny new phone! And a free case? So much the better! I dutifully picked one out and watched as the salesman turned my sexy shiny new phone into a hulking slab of plastic and rubber that was impervious to harm. I could even clip it onto my belt for quick access.
For the most part, I very rarely ever saw that shiny iPhone 6 exterior ever again, which made me wonder: what was the point of a cell phone having a pretty exterior if it was just going to be covered up by a case? Granted, part of my paranoia about my iPhone 6 being damaged was due to the fact that I had bought it on a payment plan, but when I upgraded to an iPhone SE later on, I repeated the process of buying a hard case despite having paid for that one in full up front.
iOS eventually got on my nerves to the point where I decided to go back to Android, so I bought a mid-range Android phone; an unlocked Moto G5 Plus. Like my iPhones, it too had a metal case, though not quite as shiny as the iPhones had been. This time around, I finally got over my phone damage paranoia and didn’t buy a heavy-duty deluxe polycarbonate drop-proof shock-proof bomb-proof bear-proof case for it. Now, I wasn’t about to let my phone go au natural because I didn’t want the metal to be scratched up to all heck, so I bought a fairly relatively inexpensive rubber case. I liked it because it doesn’t make the phone that much bigger, so I can slip it into my pocket instead of having it clipped to my belt.
I don’t know when I’ll be buying my next phone, but I think I’m over metal at this point.
A few weeks after I bought it, I noticed that my Moto was getting a little grimy around the edges so I took off the rubber case in order to give the screen a proper wipe-down. I looked at the back of the phone, and lo and behold, I saw a dent in the metal.
This has been 300 Seconds, the next episode will be posted after I go to Amazon to buy a hard case for my phone. Subscribe via your favorite podcast app, and for more wonderfully weird words written by me, visit Eduardo Soliz dot com. Thank you for listening! Be good, take care, and God Bless.
I would like to begin by thanking those of you are not registered to vote. I would also like to thank those of my fellow citizens that will be too busy to vote. This message is not for you.
Instead, I would like to address those of my fellow citizens who intend to cast your vote this Tuesday. If you have already voted, then this message comes to you too late, but if you could keep listening for next time, it would be greatly appreciated.
I will begin by saying that you should pay no mind to those well-meaning people who say “If you don’t vote, then you have no right to complain.” I would like to take this moment to remind you that we have free speech in the United States of America. So complain as much as you want. When candidates that represent your views are not elected, resulting in laws that you support not being passed. I will be more than happy to listen to your complaining.
The main reason that I don’t want you to vote is that by not voting, you make my vote count more. And who am I? I may be a conservative, a liberal, or somewhere in between. I may be for or against gay marriage, abortion, universal healthcare, marijuana legalization, and civil rights. I may be rich from birth, rich from hard work, living from paycheck to paycheck, or struggling to survive. I may have been born on the same day as you; or be old enough to be your parent or your grandparent, or be young enough to be your child. I may be happily single, happily married, or even happily divorced. I might think that black lives matter, that all lives matter or maybe that no lives matter. I might completely support your views or find them to be completely absurd. That said, you can be rest assured that I will use my vote wisely.
“But voting in my state is pointless,” you say, “My candidate has no chance of winning my state in the presidential election!” You may be right. In fact, by not voting, you are definitely making that a true statement. Besides, if you don’t care enough to vote for the President, you probably don’t care enough to vote for senators, representatives, mayors, city councilors, school board members, judges, sheriffs and dogcatchers. By not voting you give me more influence over your state and local officials as well.
If every able-bodied citizen of our great country voted, then every citizen would possess an equal amount of power. When fewer people vote, the ones that do have more power. Consider this: If, let’s say, only one out of every four people votes, the one person who does is making choices for the other three. If the one out of four that votes is me, I like that idea! Indeed, I could be considered a representative myself, albeit one of a very small district. What it comes down to is that you can be confident that I have every intention of putting your non-vote to good use.
So please, don’t vote. After all, you can trust me…just like the last time.
You are listening to ‘300 Seconds with Eduardo Soliz,’ and this is episode number 109: “My Coronavirus Story Part 4: The New Sort-of Kind-of Not-Quite Normal,” so let the 300 Seconds begin!
The week after the office I worked at closed, the city of San Antonio went on lockdown. Thus, I had to adjust to not only working at home, but also to being at home nearly all of the time. I am a bit of a homebody, so being stuck at home wasn’t that big of a deal, but it was still annoying to not be able to go anywhere.
One of the first things I did was to designate the dinner table as my home office in a feeble effort to keep some division between my home and work life. For the most part, it worked fairly well, since my dining room table had not been getting much use anyway. The only problem that came up was that I quickly learned how uncomfortable it was to be sitting on my unpadded wooden dining room chairs for several hours. I eventually abandoned the dining room table for a cubbyhole in the apartment, which, while offering less desk space, did have an office chair that was much more comfortable to sit in.
Like most folks, I didn’t own any masks when the pandemic started hitting home. I figured that if nothing else, I would have to eventually go to the grocery store, so I thought it would be a good idea to get some masks and be a responsible member of the community. Additional motivation was provided by the fact that I have a few boxes checked off on my ‘if you catch this, you’re in deep trouble’ bingo card.
After doing some searching, I ordered some masks online from independent makers, but I needed something to tide me over while those got made and shipped. My first attempt was the ‘cut up an old t-shirt’ method. That ended up being a spectacular failure because I have a big head topped with a mass of thick curly hair. Even working with a size double-XL shirt, I was unable to get it completely around my 23 and a half inch melon. I’m also not the best with scissors, so there’s a pretty strong chance that I cut the pattern the wrong way. I eventually found a bandana from high school that worked until I bought a roll of shop towels and made my own with staples and rubber bands. Eventually the masks I ordered did arrive, and yes they did have animal prints on them.
Naturally, I have to mention the toilet paper thing. Holy cats, if I live to be a hundred years old I will never understand what the hey that business was all about. Fortunately for me, I live alone and my digestive system is fairly regular, so I don’t use too much, I don’t think. That said, I didn’t want to be caught off guard, so I started keeping track of how long certain things, like toilet paper, lasted. Originally, I was concerned with how long a roll of toilet paper, a bottle of hand soap, and a tank full of gasoline would last. Gasoline wouldn’t have come to mind, but San Antonio flipped its collective lid back in 2017 and caused a shortage after Hurricane Harvey out of self-induced hysteria. I was pleased to discover that a roll of toilet paper and a twelve-ounce bottle of hand soap each lasted about three weeks. I was also happy to discover I was getting two months to a tank of gas in my Honda CR-V because I was only driving to the grocery store. At one point I did have to hunt for toilet paper for a friend who was running low. Lucky for her, I was fortunate enough to find some and save the day.
A nice habit that I picked up during this time was walking to the nearby dollar store to pick up things in between my main grocery store trips. At first, the pleasant weather of late March and April made for some nice afternoon walks, but as the Texas summer started to do its thing, those trips got pushed further and further into the evening until eventually I would wait until after sundown to head out.
Of course, once I was done with work, I had to do something for entertainment, so I’ve been watching movies from my DVD and Blu-ray collection, and even picking up a few new ones to while the evenings away. I’ve actually been keeping track of what I’ve been watching, and I’m up to about eighty movies so far, not counting repeated viewings of Casino and Goodfellas. I’ve also gone through all the original cast Star Trek and the first series of Batman movies. I think I’ll try Star Wars next, but I’m not sure how far I want to go with those. I recently reactivated my NetFlix account and have enjoyed the new shows that my friends have been talking about, like BNA, Beastars, and Warrior Nun.
Except for going to the grocery store or to restaurants and fast food joints for take-out, I spend all my time at home. As I’m sure many of you will also attest, the days began to blur together. Weekends suddenly became meaningless, because there was nothing happening to look forward to. No comic cons, no camping trips, no local theme park visits, no casino trips, not even a trip to the mall. Instead, Saturdays and Sundays became the days that I didn’t sign into my work laptop…yippee.
And, as fate would have it, not long after I got settled into that new normal, it was thrown out of the window after I got laid off. If you’d like to hear the gory details, you can go back two episodes. Suddenly, instead of sitting at my work laptop hunting for trouble tickets to work on, the better part of my day was now filled with absolutely nothing!
This has been 300 Seconds with Eduardo Soliz, the next episode will be posted after I mail back my work laptop. Subscribe via your favorite app, and visit Eduardo Soliz dot com for more wonderfully weird words written by me! As always, I thank you for listening!
Welcome to Super-Short Storytime, Dear Listeners! I am Eduardo Soliz, the author and narrator of the splendidly short story that you are about to hear.
My unhappiness towards my nine-to-five (and my willingness to share it) has gotten to the point where it has become a character trait over the years. But I’m not here to tell how you about much I hate my job. Instead, let me tell you a story about a guy that does enjoy his work. This work-related writing is called: “The Best Job In The World“
A middle-aged man wearing black slacks and a white button-down shirt stood in front of a row of vending machines. He wore an identification card that bore the logo of the Prehistoric World theme park and “Bernard Olson, Accounting” in bold letters underneath that. Bernard idly jingled some change in his right hand while he looked from one machine to the next, carefully considering his options.
“Hey buddy, could you give me a hand, here?” A man’s voice said to his right. Bernard turned to answer and quickly jumped back upon seeing a six and a half foot tall mountain lion standing next to him. His shock quickly turned to relief when he realized that it was a person wearing a costume.
“Oh! You frightened me. ” Bernard said. Bernard hummed to himself as he looked for an identification card on his costumed coworker, who wore a T-shirt with the name “Pappy Puma” on it. Bernard was fairly certain that wasn’t his real name.
After a moment, the mountain lion noticed his confusion and said: “Oh! Sorry about that. I’m Jay.”
“My name is Bernard,” Bernard said quietly. He gingerly shook the large paw that Jay offered.
Jay continued: “If you could help me out, that would be awesome, Bernard. My usual helper is in the infirmary. She’s new to the area and hasn’t gotten used to our wonderful Texas summers yet.”
Bernard nervously looked around to see if there was anyone else nearby that could help in his place.
“Come on, man. I ain’t gonna bite you.” Jay pleaded.
Bernard sighed. “Okay. What do you need me to do?” He asked.
“Help me get this head off. Go around me and unzip the zipper that’s at the back of my neck.” Jay said. He dropped to one knee so that Bernard could more easily reach it.
“Okay.” Bernard said. He walked over behind Jay, and looked at the back of his head. He saw a seam running down the back and followed it to its end, where he saw a zipper’s metal tab sticking out. He grabbed the zipper and slowly pulled it up. Before Bernard had the zipper opened completely, Jay reached up and pulled the mask forward to remove it.
“Whew. That’s better.” Jay said, relieved. Bernard walked around to face him and stared for a moment. Jay was wearing a tight-fitting hood on his head made out of some synthetic material. Only his face, which was red from the heat, was exposed. Jay took the head off and carefully placed it on the floor next to his gym bag.
“What’s that thing on your head?” Bernard asked, motioning at his head with his hands.
Jay looked at him for a moment before realizing what he was referring to. “Oh, the hood? It’s to keep sweat from getting into my eyes and stuff. I’m wearing underclothes made out of the same material, but it can only do so much, you know?”
Bernard nodded in acknowledgement.
“Could you help me get one of these paws off?” Jay asked. “They’re held on by some snaps that are underneath the seam. I could use my teeth, but the folks in the costume department wouldn’t appreciate that.” He extended his right arm towards Bernard, who removed the paw and examined it. Meanwhile, Jay used his now-free hand to remove the other paw and set it on top of his costume’s head.
Bernard peered inside of the paw and quickly drew his face back when he noticed the moisture and the smell coming from it. “Goodness, that’s a lot of sweat.” He observed.
“Yup. Such is the price of fame.” Jay quipped. He was hunched over his gym bag searching inside for something.
“It looks like you have a difficult job, having to wear this all day.” Bernard pondered. “I don’t think that I could do it.” He bent over and carefully placed the costume hand atop of the other one.
“The positives ultimately outweigh the negatives, my friend.” Jay said. He pulled a wallet out of the gym bag, opened it, took out a few bills, then dropped it back into the bag. He stood up, walked over to one of the vending machines and bought a sports drink.
“What positives?” Bernard asked. “You walk around outside in that heavy suit all day, get pushed, kicked and well, abused by children, and I can’t imagine that you get paid very well. No offense intended.”
“None taken.” Jay replied before taking a swig of his drink. “And yeah, all of what you said is true. Those are the negatives. So let me give you some positives: It’s fun to interact with the kids. As far as they’re concerned, I really am a big cat. I get to snarl and meow and purr and be silly and goofy. Sure, some of them will push and kick and shove and cry, but they always walk away happy, and that makes me happy, too.
You know what most people make at their jobs, Bernard? Money. That’s it. Nothing else. Do we need it? Of course we do, that’s the world we live in. But there’s nothing really unique about money. A smart man once sang that ‘money talks, but it don’t sing and dance and it don’t walk.’ Money isn’t special. It’s as common as the dirt on the ground. Just because other folks have more doesn’t make it any less true.
But the smile on a child’s face, the laughter of parents and grandparents as they take a picture, even the dumb giggling coming out of a bunch of nutty college kids. Those things are special. Those are the things that people remember. Sure, lots of other people might make more money than I do, but I make memories. I have the best job in the world because my job is to make people happy.”
“Wow. I never thought of it like that.” Bernard said, surprised. His tone became sad as he continued: “It certainly sounds more enjoyable than my job. I just sit at a desk all day and crunch numbers.”
“Yeah, but your job is important, too, Bernard. If you don’t crunch all those numbers, we don’t get paid, right?” Jay said with a smile. “Sorry for rambling like that, Bernard. I guess I’ll head over to the locker room and get out of this suit.”
“Oh, so your day is over?” Bernard asked.
“Without a handler, it is.” Jay explained. “The costume head severely limits my vision, so I have to have a handler nearby to help me get around, keep an eye out for kids and to make sure that we don’t stay outside for too long, but unless Angela gets out of the infirmary soon, I’m done for the day.”
“Now that’s unfortunate.” Bernard said. He checked his watch. “There are still several hours until the park closes.”
“Well, them’s the breaks.” Jay mused. He started to gather his things together. “It’s been good talking to you, man. Thanks for the assist.”
“Wait a second. What if I was your handler?” Bernard asked.
“Huh. I’d appreciate the assist, but won’t you get in trouble?” asked Jay.
“It’ll be okay. Besides, I can always make more money tomorrow.” Bernard said.
“That’s the spirit! Come on, Bernie, let’s go make some memories!” Jay exclaimed. With smiles on their faces and springs in their steps, the pair headed off to ‘work.’
It may be cliche to say that “money isn’t everything,‘ Dear Listeners, but that doesn’t make it any less true for some folks. Personally, I would love to have a job where I make something besides money, but for now, money will have to do. This has been Super-Short Storytime! If you’d like me to tell your story, send an email to firstname.lastname@example.org
Thank you for listening! Be Good, Take Care, and God Bless.
If you are looking for a professional voice to represent your business, your organization, or yourself, send me an email at email@example.com.
And now, on with the show:
You are listening to ‘300 Seconds with Eduardo Soliz,’ and this is episode number 107, “My Coronavirus Story Part 3, Laid Off,” so let the 300 Seconds begin!
April the 30th of this miserable year of 2020 was just another day at home in this weird time that is both very interesting and yet uninteresting at the same time. The company I work at had closed all of its offices back in mid-March as the nation started trying to come to grips with the pandemic. My job, as a deskside technician, was to be the ‘boots on the ground’ in the San Antonio office, but now that the office had been closed, my workdays consisted of sitting at my dining room table on my work laptop hunting through open incidents for something to do. Thanks to the lock-down, the number of remote techs working from home had multiplied five-fold, so the pickings were very slim.
A fellow tech had posted a ticket into our group chat asking for help, so I seized the opportunity and raised my virtual hand. I had been hired in December and there was still a lot that I didn’t know. Thus, I began searching through the knowledge base so I that wouldn’t be flying completely blind when I got in touch with the customer.
I had barely started to read the first article when the message: “Do you have time for a call?” popped up on my screen. I frowned at my dumb luck. Of course, the boss has to ping me the one time that I actually had something to do. But, you know, he’s the boss, so I replied: “Sure, I have time.”
“Okay, I’m sending a meeting request.”
I logged onto the video chat to find my boss and two other people that I had never met before on my screen.
My Spidey-sense started tingling. The first thought that popped in my head was: This is it, I’m being let go. In my mind, the two newcomers were the online equivalent of someone bringing a security guard with a cardboard box to your desk.
Once my boss introduced the pair of morose-looking gentlemen as being from Human Resources, my internal estimate of whether I was about to be let go from my job went from ninety-nine percent to one hundred. The only question now was going to be whether I was going to be laid off or fired.
The HR guys introduced themselves; one of them said that he was sorry we were meeting for the first time under these circumstances. I almost cracked a joke about this being the last time we were meeting, too. I kinda wish I had. Maybe it would have lightened the mood a little. Then again, it may have also made the unfortunate proceedings about to happen even more awkward. I chose to be a professional and held my tongue, which was probably the smarter thing to do.
After introducing them, my boss pretty much let the HR guys take over the meeting. He didn’t even bother looking into the camera, which was off to the side of his PC. I later found out that I wasn’t the only person to be let go, so perhaps he was setting up those meetings as well. I can’t say I envied him having that job, but at least he still had one.
Having been fired before as well as having been part of a mass layoff, I knew what was coming. We’re very sorry it had to come to this. Business needs. This wasn’t planned in advance. Blah blah blah. The only part I was interested in was whether I was being laid off or fired. I did a Mr. Spock eyebrow-raise at what I thought were some questionable statements, such as:
This is about business needs, which translates to: This is about saving money. That statement would have gone over better if I hadn’t had to sit in on an hour-long presentation with our CFO just theday before where he mentioned that the company was doing fairly well in spite of the lockdown. Yeah, that definitely does not computer.
This wasn’t planned in advance: Yeah, I don’t buy this for a second, especially given that it was a large company. Large companies never do anything quickly. It had been a month and a half since the office had closed down, and I wonder if there was some threshold they were waiting to hit before dropping the axe. If that statement was true, a company that just drops people at the drop of a hat isn’t the kind of company I want to work for. Granted, that issue seems to have taken care of itself, but still.
There were also a whole mess of things involving health insurance that I won’t go into here because this is 300 seconds and not 600. For those interested, the gory details of that mess are posted on my blog at Eduardo Soliz dot com.
Near the end of that whole sad affair, I was told to not mention anything to my coworkers, because others were going to be let go as well. Sure. A box would be shipped out so that I could return my work laptop and charger. I also had an access card for the office and a skeleton key, so I offered to get in touch with my local manager to return those items to her. I was told: “I know it sounds silly, but put those things in the box and mail them over to Milwaukee.” In my mind I thought: That doesn’t sound silly. It sounds stupid. But, I didn’t fight it.
The meeting done with, began to clean up the improvised home workspace that would go back to being my dining room table. I quickly discovered that my work access had been revoked, so score one for efficiency.
I sighed, logged out of my work laptop for the last time, and then came to an unfortunate realization:
I had forgotten to reassign that ticket. Oh well.
This has been 300 Seconds, the next episode will be posted after I visit the job websites. For more witty words written by me, visit Eduardo Soliz dot com, and I thank you for listening. Be good, take care and God Bless.