The day I stopped looking for a job was two weeks after accepting a job offered to me by a childhood friend.  He’s a great guy although he’s not much for the news and he’s managed to find gainful employment since he graduated from college.  It wasn’t a great job, the word “secretariat” showed up in the rather short job description more than once.  I would have the dubious distinction of being the most educated person on the team while simultaneously holding the most junior position.  But it’s cold outside and a job is a job…right?  Wrong.

I was so grateful for this job I made the mistake of opening up to this friend, as if my current position wasn’t enough to eliminate any respect for me he could possibly have, so I gave him a rare glimpse into the tarry blackness that is the constant uphill struggle that I call my life.  I told him things I still would be ashamed to put on this blog.  Anybody want to guess what he said? I ask because it’s possible I blogged about this before.

“Eh, I’d love to have six months on my parent’s couch.” 

What followed was one of those speeches you might expect to get from an older brother who spent his whole life trying (and succeeding) to please your parents.  Know how much you resent that?  Imagine it coming from a friend.  A friend who is younger than you.  A friend who is now your boss.  A friend who will send you to get donuts in a blizzard.

The night before my first day I watched Braveheart.  Perhaps you are familiar with the film.  During one of the battle scenes a hopelessly outnumbered Scottish army faced almost certain annihilation by the British Army.  William Wallace conceded that to fight would most likely certainly lead to death but that such a death might be better than the alternative, facing death in the distant future knowing you had missed your once chance to have your deeds echo through eternity.

President Obama recently spoke at Hampton University (formerly Hampton Institute) Commencement Ceremony.  The President reminded us of Frederick Douglass’ words “education is emancipation” aka education is freedom…what William Wallace was fighting for.  Would William Wallace have borrowed 200k? Please people.  The man was disemboweled and to his credit he didn’t get on a blog and bitch about it.

I didn’t go to school just to pull in a big pay check someday.  I didn’t go even primarily for that.  I went to piss off elitist, faux-religious, eugenic advocating, minority fearing people of the lighter nation.  And piss them off I did.  Hopefully I am still pissing them off.  Do you think the generation that integrated schools got jobs?  No.  They went so we could go.  Perhaps our generation is going to show the next generation that perhaps more of us need to go to Hampton and less of us need to go to Harvard.  Now granted the most famous African-American Harvard Law grad I know is the President.  The second most famous African-American Harvard Law grad I know is a blogger like me. 

The point is like generations before we are soldiers in a war.  We are warriors.  And warriors die.  They don’t take shitty jobs just so they can buy a used mattress and a box of ramen once a month after turning over 98% of their paycheck to student loans while people who spent half the time in school are making three times as much.  You don’t win the gold and take the silver when the judges screw you in favor of the home team.  You stay off the damn podium. 

So during my nomadic existence I don’t think about the joe blows who coasted to the white picket fence, lexus and wife with an ass that won’t quit.  I think the about the warriors, disemboweled and lynched, whose stories, unlike William Wallace and Emmett Till, are unknown to another living soul.

As you have probably guessed, I was lucky enough to happen upon a friend’s laptop with wifi.  No 30 minute time limit here! Taaaaaake yoooooouuuuuurr jobbbbb and SHUV EEEIT!