Crossroads again! Time to go.

It has been at time an exercise in futility.

I am talking about the last eleven months of my life in Ft. Lauderdale, Florida.

Since my return to South Florida in September, 2007, I have been unable to find steady work. All that I have managed to get up to now, is the occasional day or two, here or there. Sometimes, I may get a one week computer job/project, and when I was lucky, I worked for a temporary job placement agency from February to May, when the seasonal job came to an end.

Job prospects in Florida, and by extension the United States of America, seems to be slim to none at this time.

In America now, too many people are afraid. People are afraid to: lose their jobs, homes, cars, health insurance, etc. They are in fact, simply afraid of their uncertain futures.

The economy has gone south and it is not coming back. At least not anytime soon!

After living in the Caribbean for fourteen months, I intended to work for six to 9 months in Florida, and then return to the island of my birth, where I had previously not lived for thirty-five years at that time.

I sold as much of my personal property to finance my return trip to the United States. I had in my estimation, about three months worth of money. Three months to find a job!

That did not happen and now, it is time to cut my losses and move on. The reality of the matter is that I will not find steady full time employment here at this time, despite the fact that I am an experienced, certified computer/network technician.

They were too many promises that we not fulfilled, and a series of lost work opportunities because here in an English-speaking America, I did not speak Spanish. That is what America has come to.

Reality check: I have been unable to find work and I could not afford a place to live. The two persons that I thought were more than friends could not or did not assist. One in particular, was spineless after telling me that I was his brother, when his wife began to loudly complain and slammed doors, objection about me sleeping on their sofa for 2 weeks, I decided that I was better off sleeping in my then car.

So I lived out of my Grand Caravan minivan for most of the eleven months here.

When one door closes, another opens. It could be viewed as action and reaction, up and down, good and bad.

Thanks to Robert Calvert, a longtime friend and former photojournalism colleague, I survived. He not only gave the Caravan to me, he paid for the registration, the first 6 months of insurance, my phone and phone service, to get me going when I returned.

During all that time I lived in the minivan.

I slept in it. I drove to job interviews in it. Everything I owned was stored in it.

The Dodge Grand Caravan was all that I had. And when I was unable to pay the insurance, do the maintenance or put gasoline in the van, Bobby never said no to my call for assistance. In return, I tried to reciprocate whenever he needed assistance with one of the many projects that he may have ongoing at the time.

I helped him with his computer issues. I helped with the on going construction work on his property. I helped whenever requested by him, without charge. Bobby, however, always provided some money to keep me going. An interested character this Robert Calvert of Indiantown, Florida, who has by his action, defined what a friend is. I will write more about him at a later date.

Most of my days were spent in various library branches of the Broward County Library system. There I could use my wireless-enable laptop computer to check e-mail from the many job boards that I had posted my resume on. Most importantly, using the wireless hotspot of the library, I could check to see if my saved job searches with CareerBuilder.com, Monster.com, HotJobs.com, Employflorida.com etc., yielded any job leads based on my resume and saved job profile, and apply for jobs that I felt I was qualified for.

That I did according to my job hunting folder count a total of 767 times, that resulted in three job interviews, 2 projects and the sporadic eight-dollars-an-hour jobs that came through the temporary job placement agency, since my return.

Usually it takes about three to four hours each day, to read the e-mails and go through the e-mailed job leads and apply for a job. Sometime before applying, I would have to answer a questionnaire or do an online technical test.

One Sunday morning about 10:00 am, I had a 2-hour telephone interview with a three-person technical inquisition panel from Dallas, Texas. Promises of a project were made, but no work resulted.

The other half of my day and all of my nights were spent in the air conditioned comfort of Brady’s Irish Bar in Margate, Florida, drinking  free club soda and playing pool.

There I could and did play pool/billiards for as long as I wanted, free of charge. Tom Read, the owner, is a very generous, friendly man, who never charges his customers (guests) for pool, soft drinks, snacks, etc.

He is a big man, six-feet-plus tall, with a full head of white hair and a beard to match. In fact he looks a lot like Santa Claus.

The jolly big-hearted New Englander, who hails from Vermont, has been living for thirty-plus-years in South Florida, and he frequently gives and gives away what other bar owners charges for.

There at Brady’s the friendly staff is as follows:
Michelle, the manageress, a very funny and friendly person,
Brian, Michelle’s assistant and Tom’s adopted stepson, whom I call “Brains”, because it sometimes takes awhile for the business school graduate to digest what was said to him,
Lisa Marie Presley, yes that is her real name. I call her Lisa Marie Pretty,
Janet, the lovely Thursday night and Friday and Saturday daytime barmaid, and,
Nikkie, Janet’s cute, but somewhat hostile twenty-something daughter.

So daily I live out of Brady’s where I did everything short of showering, along with a cast of characters, that would be worthy of a bad television soap-opera. More of that and them at a later date.

Just about everyone that I know is in a similar situation. People are scared and angry. Many don’t have any options available to them. They are paralyzed.

Now that I have decided it is time to go, I’m looking to buy the cheapest one-way ticket out of Florida.

Another big-hearted, generous friend, Art Seitz, who I’ve known for 25-plus-years, has provided monetary assistance in the form of a $500.00  check to help with the purchase of my ticket. Art is among the world’s premier sports photographers and is well known on the professional international tennis tour/circuit.

To both Art “World Famous” Seitz and Robert “K4NBC” Calvert, I say thank you for your support and long time friendship.

You two have demonstrated what friendship is all about. Not because you have helped out when needed, but, by the fact that over the last twenty to 25 years that we have known each other, through good and bad times, all three of us in his own way, has been able to lend a helping hand to the other, when called upon.

Thanks my friends, you will never be forgotten! We have lived like brothers.

For the time being I’m in countdown mode. I’m awaiting some things to occur before purchasing my ticket. By the end of the month if not sooner, I should be back in Trinidad.

Though life in Trinidad is not an easy one, everything is a struggle, it is home and the landscape is familiar. I do however know that at the age of fifty-four, that this may be my last move. I am willing to take the gamble. No pain, no gain! More to come …