Wrongsized
by Larry Solomon

Print on Demand Publisher Become chronically unemployed in 26 Easy steps
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ISBN: 9781432723477
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Book Information
Genre:
HUMOR / General
Publication:
Mar 31, 2009
Pages:
189
 
Books by Larry Solomon

Outskirts Press author and humor writer Larry Solomon takes a timely look at unemployment in his new book, Wrongsized — Become Chronically Unemployed in 26 Easy Steps.

It’s a story about an unemployed executive struggling to find a job in today’s market, and, not surprisingly, it’s a laugh-out-loud read.

Larry Solomon not only has plenty of corporate experience, he also has written material used on TV shows such as Laugh-In, The Smothers Brothers, and The Dean Martin Show.

Solomon has worked in the computer field for over 30 years, holding management and consulting positions with companies such as Anteon, AST Research, AMFAC, General Electric, the U.S. Navy, the City of Torrance, California, and Verifone.

While computer programming is his forte, comedy is his true love, and he has written material for hundreds of radio commercials, and for various radio programs, including those of Jay Lawrence, Gary Owens, Jack Gale, and Dave Garroway.

He even had his own popular radio show, “The Larry Clark Show.” (He dropped his last name due to the townsfolk’s penchant for white sheets with cut-out eye holes.)

Wrongsized is the story of Lance D. Boyle. As the CIO of a branch of a major corporation, and a computer programmer, Boyle has redesigned many of his company’s systems, resulting in his branch showing a profit for the first time in years. But when corporate sends in an efficiency expert with a Harvard MBA and a fistful of pink slips, Boyle finds himself suddenly out of work. His retirement fund is nonexistent, and he leaves with next to nothing to show for his hard work and loyalty.

After an appropriate period of grieving, Boyle decides to take on temp work, admirably approaching each new task with a can-do attitude, but somehow he manages to royally and humorously screw things up at every turn.

Despite its humorous nature, Wrongsized also offers real-world tips for job hunting. Larry Solomon has decades of experience to draw from, and has also been on the receiving end of a pink slip a time or two. “When I was unemployed I really needed a laugh,” he says, and this was the motivation behind Wrongsized. “And after you have finished reading it, you can spend some more time following the tips I have cleverly included to broaden your job search scope. Or, you can color the drawings. Your call.”


I make this pledge of 100% guaranteed satisfaction...

If you are not satisfied with the contents of this book; if it did not lead you on the course of gainful employment; or, for any reason whatsoever you did not laugh your ass off, you may contact me and I will feel really, really, bad.



Mr. Solomon’s book is both insightful and unabashedly funny. Filled with laughs, this is a testament to the American tradition of finding humor in the most adverse situations. It’s a veritable survival guide to today’s economy—a must-read for everyone.

—Amazon.com review

 
Profit and Lust

As I said earlier, I worked many long days to get to a position where I can afford, or at least appear to afford, my toys. This is not a cushy job. Sometimes I'd have to go forty-five minutes or more between cups of coffee.

I have to be honest though, luck did have something to do with it. Twenty some years ago, when my friends were all going to college to get draft deferments, or suddenly becoming Canadian, I chanced upon a job in a new field ... computers.

Millions of IBM cards and thousands of programs later, I found myself in charge of the computer department for a multi-national company. Bulbco, a world leader in light bulbs and other electrical stuff, acquired this division a few years ago in a leveraged buy-out.

If you are not familiar with the term "leveraged buy-out", let me explain in non-technical terms...

You want to make an investment, an apartment complex, for instance. You can't afford it, but don't let that stop you, buy it anyway.

When the first payment comes due, look for something you don't really need, like the wiring in apartment #4. Rip out the wiring, and sell the copper.

Next month, do the same with the plumbing in apartment #7. Continue this process until you have an empty shell. By now, the tenants are relying on candles for lighting, and eventually the building burns down. You can, of course, keep the cleaning deposits, and you will pocket a tidy profit from the insurance company.

Finally, you sell the now-vacant lot to a developer who wants to build a luxury high rise. Everybody wins. Oh yeah, the tenants are screwed, but that's business.

My predecessor and fellow buy-out survivor, Minnie Daizoff, was the type of employee that almost every organization suffers from at one time or another.

You know the type ... The type that stays at the office late when the big boss is in town, but otherwise "Works from home" on Mondays and Fridays; the type that's always "too busy" to go to training sessions, unless they're in a resort area …and then insists on going; The type whose accomplishments could be listed on a Post-it note, and still leave enough room for the Sunday Times...

Minnie might still be with Bulbco if she hadn't taken time off, at company expense, to go to her mother's funeral in Australia. Sadly, they hadn't spoken in years. Minnie presumed there was nothing her mother could do to help her climb the corporate ladder, so she couldn't be so bothered. She remembered almost everything she would need for a funeral ... her passport, her bikini, and her diaphragm.

She only forgot one little detail, to tell her dearly departed mother not to call the office and thank them for all the flowers.

In the years that followed, Bulbco grew to consider me almost indispensable, and I wasn’t about to argue with them. Perhaps it's because I was able to salvage the systems and rewrite most of the programs. It could be because I made the first pot of coffee in the morning. More likely, it's because I'm the only person the Santa Claus suit fit without alteration.

Actually, I'd rather say my department ran as a team effort. That way, I could refer problems to one of my employees when someone had a really complex issue-such as programming a VCR or changing paper in the printer.

Our computers? None of that sissy stuff you play games with … no way. Mine were the biggest and best money could buy … three rooms full of disk drives, tape drives, and coffee retardant keyboards.

There were only two reasons to endure the long hours and constant crises, keeping my creditors at bay, and my secretary, the lovely Lucinda Egnever . Lucinda had been with Bulbco for several years, even before the buy-out. I really didn’t know much, if anything, about her personal life. I think she was in her early thirties and single, but her personnel file lists a PO Box for an address, no phone number, and no relatives.

Lucinda was strictly business around the men in the office. Several guys thought that was entirely unfortunate, as she had a demeanor that induced short term memory loss in middle-aged men. Those with lesser seniority just have spontaneous orgasms. If I had been about ten years younger, thirty pounds lighter, and least I forget, single, I would have noticed her creamy thighs, perky young breasts, and tight, firm...

Whoa, getting distracted here. Anyway, my wife would have performed unspeakable acts to my body if she even thought I strayed ... acts that would have caused me to look at John Wayne Bobbit with penis envy.

In short, my job wasn’t great, but it had potential. Before the General Manager left to start a worm ranch in Alabama, I was next in line for his position. The salary would have paid the bills, and I would have gotten a good retirement plan. I wasn’t planning on retiring for many years, but it was reassuring to know it was there if I needed it. Somewhat like the Shopping Channel, an air bag in a Yugo, or a parachute on Air America.



The Boston Stranger

The morning horoscope should have been a clue. It said my Moon was in Aquarius, my Sun was in Leo, and my Career was in the Toilet.

What did I care? I was secure, as I'd saved the company beaucoup bucks with my new systems. If anything, I was in line for a promotion …A FAT bonus at the least. Without any warning, an emissary from Corporate waltzed right into my office. He's a cocky little Yuppie shit with the prerequisite sweater tied around his neck, a tennis racquet and a Polo shirt reading "My Daddy sent me to Harvard and all I got was a lousy MBA.”

He speaks…

"Greetings, I've got a Harvard MBA and I'm going to turn this operation around, cut some dead-wood, and get those profits up-up-up cause that's what I do and I'm good at it! Don't care if it ain't broke, gonna fix it anyway!"

"What did you say your name was? I'm going to take a little look around, take some notes and make some recommendations. Why don't you show me the operation? Let's meet with everyone tomorrow at three. I'm here to help... "

That's about the extent of the exchange. I don't know about you, but I don't trust anyone who starts a conversation with "Greetings", reminds me too much of the IRS or the Draft Board.

With all the things going on, I've got to baby-sit this turkey! If he really wants to help, why doesn't he go play tennis? We'll call him if we need him. Me show him around? I'd rather be circumcised with a Salad Shooter.




Chairman of The Bored



My tour guide career lasted all of forty-five minutes. The Cambridge Klingon just looked into each department for a second, then asked to move on. At least I managed to get some work done before our audience with His Harvardness.

I'm not a big fan of meetings in general, and afternoon meetings in particular, so I wondered why this character wanted to meet us at 3:00. With his MBA you'd think he'd know that you always give good news in the morning. That motivates everyone for the rest of the day, but maybe they don't teach you that at Harvard.

I speculated on how much my bonus was, and could hardly contain the impulse to sprinkle his path with something appropriate for the occasion ... rose petals ... palm fronds ... poison ivy.

Again, He speaketh …

"Greetings, Just learned all there is to know about your operations. No wonder you're in such bad shape ... look at all these people we're spending money for. We'll cut this position, and that one, and that one over there and I'll get a big bonus for saving so much money. At Corporate we call this RIGHTSIZING . Did I mention my Harvard MBA?"

I'd been here since six this morning, and this idiot kept droning on about one thing or another, I wasn't sure what exactly, as my eyes were glazing over. He must have been paid by the word, with a bonus for repetition. I'd never heard "Harvard MBA" used so often in one day.

"Rightsizing?" OK, That was a new buzz-word. I figured it must have been another Corporate policy we'd have to pretend to follow. Probably some kind of exercise video the Big Boss bought from Jane Fonda.

At this point, about the only thing that was keeping me from lapsing into a low grade coma was the anticipation of my bonus, and the spectacle of this Harvard Harlequin as he danced around, X'ing various blocks on the org-chart like some demented Zorro.

Hold the phone! That was my department he pointed to. My mind clicked into gear... No, no, no! You're not going to make any cuts in my department. Not while I'm in charge! I decided, right then and there it was time to put my foot down.



The Emasculation Proclamation

Did you ever notice that just about the time you decide to put your foot down, some domestic creature has chosen that exact spot to complete its digestive cycle?

And again HE speaks…

"There's nothing to worry about, agree with you 100%. Wouldn't even think of touching any of your computer people. Need them all. However, YOU wouldn't want such an important job as yours held by someone with your credentials would you?

This job needs the Harvard MBA touch. I think I'll stick around here for a while. Nice office. When can you get your stuff out?"

All those years of experience and hard work counted for nothing, as I obviously wasn't even qualified to hold my own job. Too bad the pension plan was heavily into derivatives … an investment no doubt selected by our Funds Manager, Bernie Madoff, or someone with a Harvard MBA. For now, I'll just have to take my severance pay in old flashlight batteries, vacuum tubes, and 6 volt light bulbs for a Buick.

To add insult to injury, Lucinda started changing personalities faster than Roseanne. What happened to the aloof facade she always presented to me? She began playing up to my replacement as if she had been abandoned at birth and raised by a family of rabbits.

So, here I was. Twenty years away from starting to collect Social Security, three weeks away from starting to collect unemployment, and ten minutes away from starting a hangover.


About Larry Solomon



Mr. Solomon and his wife, Theresa Vita, live in Dunedin, Florida where they moved after 30 years in Honolulu. He is currently retired from developing computer applications for the Navy at Pearl Harbor.

He can be reached at larry.solomon1@gmail.com


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