Chasing Change

(and yes that is the name of a song by the Climax Blues Band from their album Sense of Direction)

The last few years have been brutal.
Up one minute, down the next, down one minute, down the next.
Seems to have been a downward spiral, or like Sisyphus pushing the rock and the rock always wins.

God seems to have been grumpy with me and I him.
Didn't like that he didn't communicate very well. Or often.
We would acknowledge each other in passing, but just a bit of old man attitude between us.

It came to light (or dark) recently as what I thought was, was indeed not.
I wasn't hired to hire, train, mold, mentor and be a teacher for a new sales staff.
I inherited a staff of one who had been there for a hundred years and didn't need/want any help from me.
Didn't blame her. She was lighting it up.

I was hired to be the new business development guy, moving to a town of 13,000 in the middle of a corn field.
City boy, new guy, pretty closed society. A list that had no meat.
Set up to fail, and...and before I could, I did something I hadn't done just about ever.
I told them what to do with their business.
Stick it where the sun don't shine and  ain't talking about your closet.

So, God, whatup?
How about helping a brother out?
Where did I go wrong?

It's the bright shiny object theory over and over again which seems to have a particular pattern in my life.
Better. Brighter.
For the last few years, I've been chasing change.
Mo money.
No happiness. No justice, no peace.
Maybe I just suck at sales.

As the events were unfolding, on my brother's 70th birthday I made contact with an old friend in radio.
We chatted and talked about happiness and if I was feeling it.
No.

So, a break in the clouds, an instance of serendipity, an ounce of kismet.

Fuck the money, let's go have fun again.
So, screw it, I am.
In one of the truly WKRP packing and unpacking moments, I have five days to pack, load, drive unload, move in and report to work on Monday 7 hours away.

What is this? This is the remains of my CD rack. Totally taken apart. When intact, it holds about 2200 CDs.

My 2400 CDs

My itinerary goes like this...
Today...packed
Tomorrow...pack
Friday...pick up truck and car tow, load truck.
Friday night, with cat in the cab, drive 392 miles.

Hopefully unload truck Saturday.

Where am I going?
392 miles where I pick up my keys to a radio station.
A real radio station.
That actually streams.
Where?
The apartment is ready.
Soon.