This afternoon, as I was pondering out loud how to turn a buck for myself from this website, I was in a room full of my kids and their friends. The age range of this crowd was 17 to 21.
“What about a countywide classifieds listing,” I asked the room.
[Blank stares] “Like UFOs?”
I know I’m getting a little long in the tooth as a baby Gen X, but I was blown away that nobody in the room had ever heard of newspaper classified ads. Upon hearing my description of this ancient form of communication, my daughter-in-law equated them to Craigslist, which is apparently still known by the younglings.
Many of us are looking for jobs right now
I’m right there with you. I just got laid off yesterday afternoon from a failing local chain of casinos, who’s upper management decided the guy running their print shop was too expensive to keep on. This job didn’t pay much, but it was close to home, and I liked the people I worked with, and I allowed myself to settle in and get comfortable for a year. This all suddenly changed around 9:30AM Monday morning, as my supervisor and the HR goons surrounded me at my desk without warning. I may or may not have crashed out shortly after, making it extra awkward since I caught a ride to work and had to hang outside the locked door waiting for an Uber.
Being somewhat of a public figure in my county, I’ve found my options are limited for local jobs. Sometimes employers are attracted to me for the attention I get, but then end up hating me for the same reason. I also drag behind me, a group of of spiritually and politically charged people who love to find out where I work so they can cause me trouble.
Before this last job, I was unemployed for 11 months. I can’t do that again.
Fortunately, before I got canned, I happened to secure a business license under my own name to legally run an online business here in Lyon County. So maybe it’s time to act like the business owner the IRS and State of Nevada papers say I am!
What online job resources are there?
I don’t know about you, but my LinkedIn profile has never landed me a job, and neither has the infamous Indeed. There are jobs offered through the county, schools, and cities of Fernley and Yerington, but my site wouldn’t exist of all these entities were any good at public information.
My solution: build a hub for the government jobs, and post other jobs into a “classified” style listing for a reasonable price. If this idea gets any traction, I can see this also covering yard sales and other much needed local listings.
If you’re looking to fill empty spots in your company, contact me! I’m offering a zero-obligation trial week for as many job postings as you need. After that, if you want to run more, it’s $40 per month for unlimited posts. I’m no salesman, so there’s no gimmicks or up-sells here. I prefer keep it simple.
This evening, it has officially been a week since I took a detour on the way home from work. Against all better judgement, I walked into Tuf Luck Ranch Supply to visit a little 6-month-old black pit/lab puppy, who I found shivering on a piece of dusty cardboard on an empty feed pallet.
It all started with a Facebook Post
I’ve seen many posts on the groups I admin and follow on Facebook, of dogs of all ages looking for forever homes. My heart always goes out to them, but my entire body and soul driving to meet one, is a rare occurrence. There was something special about this one.
That morning, I glanced at an old memory on my Facebook feed with three of the most awesome dogs ever. In it, I saw the pack led by my Ti, my friend’s dog Rocksie [top] and my Dexter [bottom] on one of our many trips to the school bus stop to drop off the kids. Dexter and his bestie Rocksie (yes, that’s how it’s spelled) crossed the Rainbow Bridge a few years after this picture was taken. Ti is still going strong today at the ripe old age of 13.
Directly below the memory of the triple dog walking, I noticed a post from the local feed store about a puppy that was just dropped off. When I saw that face, I swear to Dog, I saw the eyes of my old Dexter. It hit me harder than anything has in a long time, and I could feel it in my chest. To preserve my perceived manhood, I fled to my truck in the parking lot until I worked out whatever must have gotten into my eyes.
I pulled myself together and got my emo butt back to work, but I couldn’t stop thinking about those eyes. They looked like those of another abandoned puppy I met about 16 years ago, who I had the privilege of watching grow up to live a long happy life with me as his best friend. I still dream of hugging that cuddly tank of a dog.
I really didn’t know much about this puppy I was at the feed store to meet. When I approached the scared little guy, there were no tail wags, or any of the playful eagerness to meet everyone I’m used to seeing with puppies. He just sat there facing a stack of feed sacks, head down, shivering.
When I touched his dry, dusty coat, I could feel his little muscles twitch in fear. He was terrified of my hand, but slightly responded with a head tilt into my palm, as I rubbed is ears. This led the lady working there to break out in tears, stating this was the first time she’d seen him relax, even though he was obviously terrified of me still.
I was told the story of how Peanut arrived, and I quickly understood why he acted so scared. His 6 months of life were spent with an abusive human. If the feed store hadn’t agreed to take the puppy off the man’s hands, a bullet would be the next option.
There are no excuses for my behavior, other than maybe some sort of crazy dad instinct, combined with some big sads about missing my Dexter when I looked into these little brown pitty eyes… and of course, THAT EAR! I really didn’t hesitate to scoop him up and take him home.
I didn’t like the idea of his abuser getting to name the puppy. Later on, after meeting the family, my wife would suggest naming him Pepper, and that stuck.
I drove Pepper home to meet my old dog Ti. For Pepper, this was love at first site. Wherever Ti went, Pepper was right there by his side, watching intently to learn from the wise older dog.
Along with the usual burdens of bringing a new puppy into the home, Pepper also had some unique challenges of his own. Anyone who saw him, wanted to reach to pet him, but he would flee from the human hands, indicating he’d only known them to hurt. With some patience and gentle persistence, we are slowly working through this.
While I still have yet to try that tear free puppy shampoo I bought on day one, I seem to have snuck in enough pets head to toe to polish him up nicely. Some food fresh cooked meats, sweet potatoes, brown rice and celery meals are also contributing to the shine.
After a couple days to decompress, Pepper started to play with his new toys, and even a little with my hands. Now, a full week later, he snuggles next to us on the couch, knows his new name, and has started doing normal puppy stuff like fetch and chew up TV remotes. We’re about to order #3 already!
I can’t imagine starting Pepper over again with a new family, especially with how scared he was, and even still is today, of us big scary human apes. My old yellow dog is Pepper’s emotional support animal. At this point, I don’t think I could bring myself to separate them. So…
Yeah, he’s Pepper Wooley now
Everyone on Facebook and NextDoor called it within the first few hours. I totally caved, and fell for the little black puppy. Every step of progress he makes, brings me joy.
I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to grab Pepper and snuggle him the way I used to with Dexter. Instead of the big teddy bear, this little guy acts more like a wild bird. Every sudden movement makes him want to flee. He’s a goofy little ball of issues.
I think Pepper will grow into another legendary good boy, just like all our dogs before him, who all lived long happy lives. With lots of good food, filtered water (because we live in Dayton, NV), and all the love and patience I can supply, we’ll get him past the traumas of his first 6 months.
Later finding out Pepper’s previous owner was homeless, and already knowing hes had no puppy shots, it’s mandatory that I get him into the vet ASAP. I have an appointment booked, and the estimated cost could be as high as $1,000 for everything he needs.
Since I am always kinda broke, and I wasn’t budgeting for this foster turned family, I set up a GoFundMe to cover those vet bills. People who have been following us on Facebook have already been pitching in. Thank you!!
Yesterday evening, I found myself standing at the epicenter of a magnitude 5.7 earthquake. As this major geological event was happening below my feet, I was busy connecting a borrowed battery to my mom’s broken down pickup truck on the side of Highway 50 in Stagecoach. As the vehicle started dancing, I wondered what my mom was doing in the cab. Peeking around the hood, expecting to see her head banging, I just saw her sitting there, staring off into the distance like it wanted to fight.
The day before this…
MY BOY GOT MARRIED!
Sunday afternoon, my second-oldest son got married to an AWESOME woman, and I couldn’t be more proud. The ceremony was simple, and the bride and groom were beautiful. As great as it was, this day did come with challenges.
Cold weather challenge
Freakishly cold weather was challenge number one. Wet chilly winds mercilessly beat us all down in the Dayton State Park pavilion. Everyone was a good sport as we watched the ceremony, then ate some delicious goodies like a bunch of burly desert vikings.
Challenge number two for me this day, was driving Mom to stagecoach to see about her pickup that died halfway to the wedding site. Hoping some oil and a jump would get the old ford shitbox rolling, that ended up not being the case. I suspect it’s a goner, but I never claim to be a mechanic.
I decided to take the following Monday off from work to help out Mom. I had a great plan: charge a battery from my back yard Suburban, head back out to the dead shitbox with my big-brained mechanical bestie, and be done with all that by noon. What could go wrong?
Health challenge
Oh no! My big brained mechanic bestie fell out with some health complications.
OK then, It’s up to me.
Missing keys challenge
Time to get shoes on, grab the keys… um… [pats pockets and checks the communal key rack]… wait, where are my keys?
Bonus challenge! Now I was stuck at home until Lisa got back from work. As soon as she did, I took off to screw with the broken truck, taking a fresh battery. It still wouldn’t crank. As I’m writing this, it’s still dead on the side of Highway 50.
Thinking hard to remember the last time I saw my keys, I did recall accidentally grabbing them when I was taking my wife’s car Sunday after the wedding. At that time, I was extremely aggravated by a blow-up argument with my mom in a house full of wedding guests. I don’t know if they got lost in the shuffle of people, if my mom accidentally grabbed them, or if I dropped them on the side of Highway 50 while working on Mom’s truck shortly after that moment. Everyone’s searched and phone calls have been made to guests, but so far, no luck.
Heart challenge
All the daily trials and tribulations can really add up after a while, especially when they seem to come back-to-back. With my recently discovered high blood pressure issues, I’m especially concerned about what stress does to my aging human meat suit they named Phillip in the 1900’s.
I don’t pray to any gods, and touching grass isn’t helping. So how can I find peace in all this chaos? Oh, [duh] I know how…
Solution: SPREADSHEETS!
I find spreadsheets of any flavor so satisfying. Whether it’s Excel, LibreOffice, Apple Numbers, or Google Sheets, I can get lost on those rows and columns for hours, sorting and calculating variables.
I first got hooked on spreadsheets in the early 2000’s, when I learned I could use cells and formatting to build print layouts identical to the ones we used in Indesign. This enabled our company’s copywriter to easily do his job, which would autofill on my end, cutting out many hours of labor.
Years later, after I left the calculator company to work for the legal brothels, I created a method in Google Sheets to track the tours of hundreds of ladies in lineup at multiple establishments, along with all their media.
In a later job, I used LibreOffice to create a dynamic set of tables with variables that tracked the types and cuts of all available steel materials for a military contractor. When the military required them to use only Microsoft products, I had to translate this into a much pickier Microsoft Excel. With this tool, hours and even days of work were cut down dramatically in the drafting and engineering departments.
Even at home, a spreadsheet my wife acquired through an online seminar is keeping us housed with lights on and food in the fridge, despite our tiny combined household income.
So what if I used these tools to sort my own real-life chaos? The calculation would be one just of simple balance – a sort of pros & cons measurement. For every bullshit action from the universe, I must add an equal or stronger silver lining reaction.
Example of the bullshit that lingers on my mind, and the silver lining in each turd:
Bullshit
Silver Lining
Mom’s truck broke
Better in Stagecoach than an hour away in Reno.
Freezing weather at wedding
Both families proved how tough they were to endure the cold, and they say it’s good luck to rain at a wedding.
Lost truck keys
Learned a friend has some badass skills from growing up in East L.A.
Pig trailer registration due soon
Excuse to get Arby’s when I go the Carson DMV
Potentially scary labs are taking an extra week (so far) to process
I have life insurance now, and the family could pay off the house if I croak.
Awkward hug given when new cousin-in-law wanted to just shake hands
Halfway into the unwanted hug, I realized what was up, and just went for it full-send, making it purposefully awkward for the sake of a funny story to tell.
Dude on TikTok made a video stitching one of my videos, then reported me to secret service, telling me to expect a knock on my door soon.
I’m gonna get to hang out with Secret Service! How cool is that?! This makes me feel important, even though I just posted a stupid video talking shit about Trump. I can’t wait. You think they’ll let me video the meeting for TikTok…?
This simple visual of the things that were eating me today is helpful for me to not carry the bullshit of life around in the cargo shorts pocket of my soul. Could this be considered a weird form of prayer or medication? I feel like it is.
Every day brings a new sheet to balance. Some table cells on the left column may become extra difficult to counter on some days, but they can never be left blank. This keeps me somewhat on task, and relieves some of that stress that’s been trying to give me a stroke.
