Have you given up?

Who PISSED!?!?!!? Who pissed on my new rug?!?!?!?

It's that f%$#ing dog, man!

 

Don't worry everyone! Yahoo(!) has the solution!

http://education.yahoo.net/degrees/articles/featured_10_six_figure_jobs_without_a_professional_degree.html

You don't even need a degree! Problems are solved.

 

Buddy got out last year, beating his mid-size paper's latest series of layoffs, to become a financial planner. It's not easy going (you make the bigger bucks after a few years, I guess), but he enjoys the hours and still strings a bit. Not for everyone, but he wanted a little more cushion.

 

I could go on and on, as many here have, but in the end, for me, it's very simple.

I love being a storyteller and a reporter.
And I love sports.

As long as I can provide for my family, which I can (just barely), I will be happy until the day the arthritis makes me set down my notepad.
I, too, had the grandest of visions when I entered the biz, but at 31 I've realized I don't need to be at a 100K paper to feel good about my work. (I'm plenty happy at the 30K I'm at now.) Readers love good stories, and there are just as many of those at Potosi High School as there are at Lambeau Field.

I'm in it for the long haul, and I look forward to facing head-on the challenges of our industry.
Why does it have to be easy?

 

I've been in the business for nearly a decade now. I've got two of the three biggest beats at my shop. I like to think I've done good work - broken some big, national stories, won some awards, written what I feel are truly meaningful stories about people who don't often get their name in the paper. I'm not on the fast track to stardom, but I'm proud of the career I've built.

There's so much I love about this business. The writing - man, there's nothing better than to be in the middle of a story, is there? When everything's going right, the keys are clicking under your fingers and you can see the whole thing unfold in front of you, like a chess match - that's the best feeling in the world.. The reporting, building relationships, the games - there's so much fun in this gig.

But there's so much I hate about this business. The shrinking budgets and space. The increasing work loads. The crappy pay. Not traveling to an away game so you can work a rewrite shift in the office. Seeing Mrs. Olson (who has been Mrs. Olson for four months as of today) barely a half-hour each day. And the grind - that's what's killing me (this ties in to the Stories That Have Broken You thread). The grind of having two beats, of having to spend so much time putting out fires every day that I don't feel like I have the time or energy or motivation to do some longer stuff.

I'm 30 now, and probably not headed anywhere. Mrs. Olson and I bought a house last year and have no desire or ability to sell it. She just started a sweet new job in December and loves it, so I have no desire to uproot her and move to another market. God bless her, she's a former newspaper gal (we met at my current shop), so she gets it. But never having nights or weekends together and having to check my team's schedule before planning anything is getting old. She's dropping more and more hints about how I should go back to school for my Master's and become a teacher or professor.

I don't know. There's so much to love about this profession. I read the wonderful posts from Jones or jgmagc about writing and am filled with awe for their love of the process. I want what they've got. But there's so much to dislike about this business that sometimes (like now) I can't see myself ever getting there.

Have I given up? Not yet. But I think I just passed a sign that said the Given Up Off-Ramp is coming up on the right.

 

Have not. Never will. Why? Because I evolve. I understand and have had to work for everything in my life.
I've been doing this for 11 years and can never imagine doing anything else. We're in a job where people (if you're good enough) hang on your every word. Mrs. 242, on the other hand, works at bank and has to kiss customers' asses. Guess what, we don't. She has to listen to people call her every name in the book because their CD isn't getting the interest rate it was supposed to. She's a freakin' teller. What the fuck does she have to do with interest rates. We have to deal with none of this. We can hang up or tell them to leave. She cannot.
Yet, she has to smile, lick their sacks and tell them they are right when they come in to cash their day-labor checks. Yeah, that's a great f'n job.
You know something, if you can't evolve, or you just out of college and are already "unsmitten" with the business, then do us all favor and please leave. Seriously. Go. Goodbye. See you later slap-nuts.
I'm not knocking on Moddy by any means. He paid his dues, kicked ass when he did it deserves everything he's got coming to him. But you young bucks who bitch and moan ...
Jesus F'n Criminey. It's called paying your dues. It's called busting your ass. This ain't college anymore. This is life.
Every winter for the past 11 years I slapped on three layers of clothes to troll along the sidelines in weather so cold I couldn't take notes by the time the game was over. Christ, I had to wait 20 minutes before I could even try to type.
Recently, I evolved. I am no longer the sports editor at my paper and am now the "online guy" and full-time sports columnist and blogger. I love it. I still get to write sports. I still get to do what I firmly believe I was born to do.
And to sit here and listen to young wet-noses (if you've done this for 10 years or so and decide to get out, that's fine, you paid your dues) bitch and moan sickens me.
Good riddance, I say.
It doesn't matter to me if I'm stuck at the under 20K paper I'm at now for the rest of my life. It doesn't matter to me if I every break that $35K mark (dad was big city cop, mom worked at a steel mill, money, or lack thereof, does not bother me). Every paper needs that sports guy they love to hate or hate to love. To me, it doesn't matter if it's here or some big, hight-falutin' city. As long as I'm doing what I love.
Right? (Sorry about the cussing and any errors, reading this thread got me so fired up it's unbelievable.)

 

Congrats on working at a shop that recognizes the value of online material. I'm surprised you made it a decade telling any disgruntled reader to eff'off or hanging up them. Do you walk 25 miles uphill both ways to work as well? If I'm in this biz for ten years and I end with your condescending attitude, I'll likely realize I wasted the last ten years of my life.

 

You know, when I was 23-25, I was seriously committed to doing this forever. I was at a solid paper, got decent pay, with people I respected and cared about. But then, by the time I turned 27, I was ready to get out, my love for the craft notwithstanding. Part of it was the industry's continual deterioration, but I also think seeing a lot of my non-newspaper friends of the same age getting married, starting families, and moving up in their careers in those 2-3 years definitely had an effect on my outlook. And I've seen the same thing happen to some of my newspaper colleagues at that stage of their lives. I definitely agree with many on this thread that this job doesn't feel like a job, but the irony is, in exchange for that feeling, we put up with crappier working conditions than in many other professions -- longer hours, heavier workloads, much less compensation, and many more sacrifices in terms of life and family. I think when you are young, you're more willing to make those sacrifices if it means we absolutely LOVE what we do. When you get to a certain stage, your priorities change, and the scale starts to tip in the other direction. All of a sudden, shirt-and-tie attire, not being able to cuss like a sailor at work, and not getting paid to watch sports don't seem to be that much of a tradeoff anymore. And when I tried a non-newspaper job, I found that, "Hey, it IS possible to have a job I like that doesn't demand all those sacrifices in return." That's why if J-school students ask me for career advice now, I would tell them that I would recommend everyone to try their hand at a newspaper job for a time, but don't plan on a newspaper career.

 

So, you rant about people wanting to leave, insult them, beat your breast about your time in, and then note that you are at a small paper making a mediocre salary. It sure seems like you're still paying your dues after more than a decade. I daresay all those youngsters who seek other opportunities after they take an honest look at the situation and what they can realistically achieve in this business . . . made a wiser decision than you give them credit for.

Everyone has different experiences. And a lot of people who seek to leave want something more out of life than being a big fish in a small pond. You are happy, and that is good for you. But the people who question their lot should not be faulted for their choices.

 

Question: Given the number of baby boomers who'll be retiring over the next few years, doesn't that mean there will be more openings for young people?

(I honestly don't know the answer. But the question came to me while reading the latest issue of Money Magazine, which as usual devoted a ton of column inches to boomers and their retirement plans. Somebody launch a money/investments magazine aimed at Gen Xers like me and I'll subscribe immediately.)

 

Good post, captzulu.

I ask, in all seriousness, at what point did the scales tip for you? (I've calmed since my last post and no, statrat, I only walk three miles uphill to get to work, but thanks). At what point did the want of more compensation and better workload trump your love?

 

Piotr,
I see your point and, as I said, have calmed down aplenty. At what point does the money you make trump what you love to do?