A Bitter Harvest

I find myself in a reflective mood as I write this post. Thanksgiving is over and Christmas & New Year’s are just ahead… Both holidays are supposed to be harbingers of joy and good will and hope for a “New Start,” a chance to work towards a better & improved existence…

Sadly, it’s been a good double decade or so since I’ve honestly enjoyed Christmas or New Year’s. This year, for a change, I can actually point to the reasons I’m depressed as the holidays approach.

First and foremost, above all other reasons, I remain unemployed. Despite being put on The Office Team roles in October, I’m still waiting for my first assignment. One of my benefactors from last month provided me a “can’t fail, sure thing” job lead with a janitorial service in Wooddale – no soap, they have no openings but will keep my application on file. And most of all, despite all the on-line applications I submit each & every day on Career Builder, Hot Jobs, Monster, and other similar job boards.

There is no employment to be had – at least not for the likes of myself. I’m not giving up entirely, mind you – I am still looking for and applying for all manner of jobs – but if 9 months’ experience is any indication, there’s little hope on my horizon…

This morning I visited the Center of Concern in Park Ridge. They were recommended to me as a resource for rent assistance. Unfortunately, while they do have a program to assist people in paying their rent, I do not qualify because I have no job… Of course, if I had a job I wouldn’t need help paying the rent. Those fun loving rule makers at the DHS are the ones to thank – they’re the folks funding the program & since it’s their money, they get to set up the requirements for its dispersal…

I’m writing this on December 1st – Rent Day – in the hopes that putting my thoughts in some semblance of order may (just may) allow me to see some possibility of supporting myself that I have overlooked… So far, it’s not working, but one never knows… In the meantime, I have until the 5th to come up with $525 for rent. After the 5th a $20 late fee gets tacked on and the landlord starts thinking about eviction proceedings again…

Other reasons for depression include being ostracized. Over the past nine months my friends & family have been amazing in providing me moral & financial assistance. In the past several weeks though, they’ve begun distancing themselves from me. Can’t blame them really; I’m far from the happy & cheerful rogue everybody knows & loves these days. And then too, my inability to find any kind of meaningful employment in nine full months has got to be weighing on their minds…

One friend has decided I’ve become bitter, argumentative & stubborn of late. Another seems to think that my casually acknowledging the possibility I may not survive till spring is in poor taste. Others won’t accept or return my phone calls. There are very few things quite as disheartening as exile…

It’s a lonely, cold & bitter time here at The Aluminum Harvest…

All Good or All Bad

A little more than two weeks have passed since I last posted to The Aluminum Harvest. I wish I could say the past couple weeks has been spent profitably at my new employment. I cannot – that would be a blatant lie.

I’m still waiting for my first assignment from Office Team – my so-called employers, the Temp Agency that recruited & hired me last month. So far I’ve used more than 60 minutes in cell phone time checking in with the various OT offices in the hopes that somebody had work for me. They don’t.

Now that I have less than 60 minutes left on my pre-paid cell phone, and under $15 in my pocket, it’s time to try a new approach. It occurs to me that bank robbery is something of a win-win possibility. If I get away clean I’m golden. And if I’m caught, well at least I don’t have to worry about room & board anymore..

I do have a bit of bright new to share with everyone. A very good friend of mine, Milt, has sponsored me to his Church’s Brotherhood Program for assistance, and the Church has accepted me. So what does that mean exactly?

A kind and good hearted friend* had loaned me $500 after hearing that I was being taken to Court for non-payment of my back rent. I was absolutely stunned at her offer, coming out of the clear blue sky as it did. In fact, I was reduced to tears and I’m not in the least ashamed to admit it. Still, that $500 loan was far short of the two month’s back rent I owed, not to mention that November’s rent was already past due…

Enter my friend Milt and the South Park Church of Park Ridge. Through their Brotherhood Program, the Church funded me with monies enough to not only pay my back rent, but enough to pay my current rent as well, with a bit left over for food.

I didn’t learn of this until the night before Court, however. When I appeared in Court I was able to tell the Judge I would have the funds to cover my indebtedness within the week. She granted me a week’s continuance which gave me time enough to cash the Church's check, purchase the necessary Money Orders & bring my account with the landlord current. Once I was current, the landlord agreed to have the case against me dismissed from the docket. Good news - I still have a home!

Milt tells me that the Church is not through with me, though. He’s making inquiries this week to get all the details, but as I understand it, the Church is also part of a network that offers job retraining and job placement. Assistance in obtaining food is possible, as well as some assistance in getting my utilities back on. That last will be especially welcome, you’ll recall I’ve been living without electric since June…

As of this writing, I do not know what my next step is in the program, but it is somewhat reassuring to know that there IS a next step, with hope on the horizon. And even more reassuring to know that there are groups and individuals willing to step up and offer a helping hand to those in dire need. I've had my doubts of late...

On a somewhat sadder note, and completely unrelated to my own situation, I’ve received two very frightening pieces of news this week that I wish to address.

The first is actually good news, but completely unexpected. My good friend Ashley, who I met through Model Mayhem, was released from the hospital following a week’s treatment for blood clots in both lungs and one leg. She is recovering at home with family around her to assist (and I’m sure driver he completely nuts) in her recuperation and her prognosis is excellent!

The frightening part is that I had no idea she’d been hospitalized to begin with. Let alone, that at 23 years of age, she was fighting for her life this past week. Blood clots are serious business, and her case could so easily have gone the other way... That realization would have added several more gray hairs to my beard, if I still had my beard, that is.

I've no idea whether Ashley is a reader of my blog or not, but I want to wish her well in her recovery, and to let her know how much her friendship has meant to me.

The second frightening piece of news I received just this afternoon involves another young lady I met through Model Mayhem. Jenny has only recently learned that she may have breast cancer. I say “may” because her initial screenings have proven inconclusive. Further testing by a specialist is now necessary to complete her diagnosis.

I do not know Jenny well. She and I are casual acquaintances with a “nodding hello" type friendship. I believe Jenny to be a strong and capable individual, well able to face whatever adversity may come along. The uncertainty of not knowing, however, is a trial all it's own, complete with it's own tortures.

As with Ashley, I have no idea whether Jenny is a reader of this blog or not. If so, Jenny, all my hopes & prayers are with you during this uncertain time. Be strong and be well...

So, I bring this post to a close, my friends. There is some small hope on the horizon for myself, but that hope has been – tainted, if you will – by recent events surrounding my friends’ health issues.

I guess that just goes to show that nothing in this life is ever all good or all bad. The Harvest continues...

Be well, my friends.


* I do not know whether my friend wishes her largess to be known, so for the moment I will keep her identity private.

Congratulations President Elect Obama - Please Hurry!

The election is over and America’s newest President elect is Chicago’s own hometown boy, Barak Obama. Our first ever President of color and the second youngest man to ever be elected to the highest office in the land. Change is definitely in the air, and it is high time…

I have no idea what form the changes President Elect Obama will take. I do know that whatever he plans & puts in effect will not materially effect my life in a timely enough fashion to be of any practical use to me.

I do have a few hopes, however. For example:

I hope that our President will strive to make some changes in the tax code that will encourage America’s business community to keep jobs here at home, where we need them so badly;

I would like to see some changes in how the various Assistance programs are operated. Yes, I know, they are administered at the State and not Federal level, but a surprising amount of the State run Assistance programs are funded with Federal funds having mandated usage guidelines attached to them;

There are other issues I’d like to see addressed/rectified, but the above are the two biggies that materially affect me the most.

In seven full months, I’ve managed to land 2-1/2 days’ work stuffing envelopes for a Northbrook based Temp Agency who never had any more assignments for me; I landed a very short-lived P/T position in Dominick’s Deli Department that I lost for reasons that still haven’t been explained to me; and I’ve landed on the rolls of a second temp agency two weeks ago, but have still not been given an assignment.

Come Monday I will be appearing in Court, where my landlord’s attorney will press his case for two months back rent. Try as I might, I was unable to raise the monies owed, so I have no defense. The Court will find for the Plaintiffs and an Eviction Notice will be issued. The only variable in question is how soon that Notice will be served…

Once the Sheriff’s Department officially serves that Notice, my hopes for recovery will be virtually shattered. I will no longer have access to bathing facilities, so will be unable to present a professional appearance to prospective employers. I will have a vastly limited wardrobe available that I will be unable to launder frequently enough. Food will become my number one priority followed swiftly by some kind of temporary shelter from Winter’s chilling elements…

I’m happy we have a new President Elect that is so universally popular across the land. I wish him nothing but good fortune in his efforts to cure the ills of our great nation. I hope he succeeds in his efforts, and in record time.

Unfortunately, change cannot begin until January when President Elect Obama is officially installed as the leader of our country. I wonder if I’ll still be breathing then…

PLEASE HAVE THIS FORM TRANSLATED IMMEDIATELY

So it says across the front of the trial summons delivered to me yesterday evening. I, and any “other unknown residents” have been named as Defendants in an action brought forward by my landlord who is seeking payment for the past two months’ rent.

I’ve not before seen a trial summons with my name attached as Defendant. It is a rather formidable looking document written, I am sure, with an eye to instilling a touch of awe and perhaps a bit of fear in those named as Defendants. While the document does not inspire any awe, fear is another matter…

Mother’s Day of 1984 it was when I moved into my home. That was 24-1/2 years ago. In that time I’ve been late with my rent a few times, have had to pay late fees on perhaps 12 occasions, but I’ve never ever NOT paid my rent. Until now…

While I am tempted to unleash a diatribe towards my landlord & their unthinking, uncaring actions in bringing forth this legal actions, I cannot find it in my heart to do so. Mostly because if I were in their place, I’d be doing the same thing. My rent IS past due and I have no means of raising the necessary monies to rectify the situation. The cause is just, if harsh, and not at all unexpected.

My situation is dire, but not completely hopeless. I’m almost certain that if I can raise the past due amount prior to the scheduled trial date, I may be able to negotiate and extension for November’s rent. I just don’t quite know how to manage that feat…

When Dominick’s let me go for reasons that remain unknown to myself, my sole source of “significant” income dried up. On the other hand, just this past Friday I landed a position with Office Team, a local temp agency. Six days later I am still awaiting my first assignment...

By my calculations I have 8 days remaining in which to raise my past due rent, negotiate an extension for November and basically put my life back together. If I fail, then in 11 days from now the Court will enter judgment against me, and sometime thereafter the Sheriff’s department will be along to put me out on the street…

So as not to end this missive on a completely sad & discouraging note, may I direct your attention to my title? That is a direct quote from the Trial Summons served on me yesterday evening. Ironically, that directive, like the remainder of the Summons, is written entirely in English…

Though it has turned bitter, the Harvest continues, my friends…

The Slide Continues

This has been something of a mystifying morning to me. Those of you who have followed my posts sinced I began this blog are aware I recently managed to land a part-time postion with Dominick's Deli department. Well, as recently as a month ago, anyway...

Things were going about as well as one could expect, from my point of view. The work was tiring, but not overly difficult. Most of my evening shifts were evenly split between servicing customers and cleaning. Occasionally, when things got exceptionally busy, my cleaning duties were left to last, but the customers always got my full & prompt attention.

Then, when I turned on my cell phone this morning I found a voice mail waiting for me from my Manager at Dominick's. I returned her call immediately and learned that "...it's just not working out..." and I shouldn't bother coming in for my Thursday evening shift.

In short, I was fired. A new experience for me - I'd never been fired from a position in my life before. I was somewhat taken aback, not having been given any indication my work efforts to date were less than expected. In fact, I had been under the impression I was doing very well.

Understandably confused, I asked her to clarify "Do you mean I no longer have a job?"

To which she replied "Exactly. Thanks for calling back and sorry it didn't work out." I then asked, still politely mind you, "Would you mind telling me why I'm fired?"

There was an awkward pause before she replied "...all I can say is it isn't working out..." Then she hung up.

Just that quickly my hopes that I might finally be on the right track to stopping the downward spiral my life's been taking were put to an end. For no better reason than "...it's not working out..."

I don't for one minute delude myself that I'm without fault here or that I didn't do something, if not wrong, at least not as right as I should have. Obviously something's wrong here, but I haven't a clue what.

I've made it a point to be on time, well groomed, and industrious in my duties. Customers always received my full & prompt, friendly attention. When I was unable to assist them, I asked for assistance - either from my co-workers or management.

"...it's just not working out..."

Now that's one hell of an epitaph, huh?

Little Ironies

It's long been an axiom that supply & demand are the two major factors in the pricing of a commodity.

Aluminum, say...

The price of aluminum is dropping, and dropping rather steadily I'm sorry to say. When I made my trip to turn in last week's harvest the price per pound had dropped by 5 cents to $0.55/pound. I turned in 24 pounds of aluminum cans last week and was compensated with a whopping $13.55 for my efforts.

This morning I took in another 24 pounds of aluminum cans and received $10.80 for my efforts. That's right, boys & girls, the price per pound for aluminum cans has dropped to $0.45 per pound since last week. That's a 25% drop from two weeks ago when the price was still $0.60/pound.

This recent drop in the price of aluminum at the scrap dealer frankly puzzles me. When dealing in most commodities, when an item becomes scarce, the price goes up. With autumn's arrival the number of picnics & other group events in the area parks & forest preserves has dropped rather substantially. Considering the cooling temperatures at this time of year, this is certainly no surprise.

It does however mean that there is far less aluminum available for harvesting, hence a smaller supply to be turned into the area recyclers & scrap dealers. I might also note that the number of harvesters has fallen off as well... (A small bright spot.)

So now we have a reduced supply of a commodity, being gathered by a smaller number of harvesters like myself, for which the price is less. According to my understanding of supply & demand in the marketplace that seems just plain backwards. The price per pound should be going up as the supply drops, not down...

Methinks it's going to be a long, hard winter...

Gob Smacked Saturday Night

It’s late Monday morning as I write this. I’ve still several hours before my first scheduled shift at Dominick’s begins, and though I’ve spent the morning looking for additional employment online, I need a break. This seems like a good time to share some few odd musings from this past Saturday.

Following my early morning harvesting in the Forest Preserves, I spent the rest of the day in the Elk Grove Village library. Working the job boards, peeking in on Model Mayhem, processing a couple TGO shots – my usual “library time” routine.

The library closes at 5:00 on Saturdays, so I got home around 5:30 that evening. I discovered a birthday party in progress next door. Very festive! Helium filled balloons were tied to the fence with crepe paper streamers strung between. Brightly colored posters & a Pin The Tail on The Donkey game were affixed to the shed in the rear. And a very bright red and yellow, star-shaped piñata was suspended from a rope strung between the shed and their tree in the front of the lot.

About a dozen or so kids from 4 to 14 years old were busy playing in the yard, while parents looked on and chatted quietly. Amongst other things, I could smell ribs cooking over charcoal, and the entire neighborhood could hear the salsa playing on the radio. A very happy scene…

The couch in my living room is situated next to the window overlooking their yard. This is where I sit when the light’s good enough to read by. The sill is wide enough to hold a coffee mug or can of soda and more days than not there’s a lovely breeze making for a very comfortable little reading “nook.”

Saturday evening I settled in with one of my favorite authors (Anne McCaffrey if it matters) and opened one of her many Pern novels. I didn’t get very far, though – the party next door was a happy & noisy one and I just couldn’t concentrate for more than a sentence or two.

After a while I gave it up and watched the kids playing in the yard, smiling at times – laughing at others. At one point one of the kids tripped while running & fell onto their sidewalk, and like the parents, I sat up a little straighter and was relieved to see him get up, only his pride injured – and that not badly.

My neighbors are from Mexico, and do not speak English – or at least not very much. It’s been way too many years since my last high school Spanish class, so we don’t speak often, or at all if I want to be completely honest here. Oh, we’re friendly enough – we nod hello in the mornings or evenings getting in or out of our cars, but language is definitely a barrier to any meaningful conversation.

But I digress…

I got to see the kids race around, playing Pin The Tail On The Donkey, Musical Chairs with hot, hot, hot salsa and even have sack races using tall kitchen can bags. Smiles & laughter were very definitely the order of the day.

All the while, the birthday boy’s father was manning the grill. Every few minutes or so he’d pull another short slab of ribs off the grill, cut them up into individual ribs and call out to the kids to come fix their plates…

When the sun started going down, it was time to start on the piñata. The kids all lined up to take turns, with the birthday boy’s mother at the front of the line with blindfold & stick ready. Dad got the ladder from the shed and started working the rope, raising & lowering the piñata at odd intervals, and the kids got started.

Each kid got to take 5 or 6 swings at the piñata, surrendering stick & blindfold to the next in line when it didn’t break & then going back to the end of the line to await their next turn. I lost count how many times the line changed over, but I’d say each of the kids got at least 4 maybe 5 turns at busting the piñata…

I was particularly impressed with how cheerful the kids were – especially when they failed to bust open the piñata. My cousins and I were never so cheerful when we failed so publicly at any task…

It took a good hour or so, but eventually the piñata was broken open and the candy came pouring out to the ground. All the kids mobbed the area, laughter and shrieks of joy drowned the radio’s salsa as the candy scramble began…

By this time it was well and truly dark & definitely time for me to fire up my Coleman Lantern and see about heating up a couple hot dogs for my own dinner. I was still chuckling at the kids antics as I sat down at the kitchen table to fire up my lantern.

My lantern’s got a few miles on it, so it can be a little tricky to get going. Once it’s fired up everything it works just fine, but getting it properly lit takes a bit of patience. The mantles were just beginning to glow when somebody knocked on my front door.

I cussed under my breath as I shut down the lantern’s fuel supply. Opening my door I found the birthday boy’s mother on my porch with two cans of pop & a plate of BBQ ribs. She’d brought along one of the other mothers along to translate who told me Jesus (the birthday boy) had seen me laughing & smiling at all the kids and thought it was only right that I get to share in his “Special Dinner” too…

I don’t think I’ve ever been so surprised or dumbfounded in my life. Nor so touched. I thanked both young ladies for the thoughtfulness, and tried to refuse the offering, but they weren’t having any of that. They simply smiled at me, set the plate & soda on my porch and walked away, waving & smiling all the while…

I brought the food & drinks in, set them on my table and sat there in the dark while tears rolled down my cheeks. I don’t believe I’ve ever been on the receiving end of such an act of kindness from what amounts to complete strangers before.

It was a good 20 minutes or longer before I noticed I was still sitting in the dark, and when I did, wonder of wonders, the lantern fired right up, just as if it were new out of the box. The ribs, by the way, were excellent, as was the ear of corn, the tamales & the two cans of pop they brought me…

I was even more bemused when my cell phone rang and I saw it was my friend Rachel calling. When I answered she told me I needed to email her my resume – she knew of a position opening up and thought perhaps I might be an ideal candidate for the job… We spent the next 45 minutes chatting, mostly about the job she knew of but also about Model Mayhem & her most recent shoot, but mostly about the job.

For the second time in less than an hour, I was well & truly gob smacked. So, no great moral lesson or point to be made here. No weighty issues to discuss or consider. Just my own reaction to being on the receiving end of two very thoughtful and considerate actions within an hour. A very great rarity in my life…

Oh, yes. I emailed my resume off just as soon as I could get this laptop in range of a WIFI signal Sunday morning… I am SO crossing my fingers!

Until next time, friends.