Onward and ....

Warning: Stream of Consciousness ahead--has not been edited for content.

For those of you able to add 2 + 2, it will probably come as no great surprise that I have been working at my brother's boatyard for the last couple weeks, sort of trying it out. It was set up to be a part-time job, with hours from 730am to 1230pm, four days a week (Fridays off). My brother Tim and his partner Scott, were kind enough to offer me the gig, as it has become apparent that the prized printing position I've been seeking for more than six months is simply not going to materialize. At the boatyard, or so the theory went, I would at least have a real job with regular paychecks, and because, ostensibly, it was only about twenty hours or so a week, I would have plenty of time to pursue the invigoration of my print brokerage business (see previous post).

Well, the invigoration of my own business is not going so well, and because the boatyard is so busy, or simply because it requires so much attention right now, I've been putting in longer hours than expected. Which is fine, as Lord knows I could use the money.

What do I do at CSR Marine, the name of my brother's company? Well, the last 8 days have pretty much been a straight-up learning curve for me, trying to get a feel for the company and helping the office manager in any little way that I can. Just learning the names of the 15 or so employees has been tough, as has been adapting to all the intricacies of the boat-repair industry. Terminology. New computer systems. Payroll. Dealing with blue-collar employees and blue-blooded customers. Trying to massage a billing system that makes what we had 25 years ago seem like state of the art.

But I think that's probably part of the reason they brought me in--to help get their technology a little more up to date. Right now I'm in the "paying your dues" stage, where even the greenest employee probably knows more about the boatyard's operation than I do, and where the veterans are muttering under their breath, "Well, if he wasn't Tim's brother...." But no matter, I do what I do, which is mostly try to help with the phones, help with the billing and payroll, do a little scheduling of the boats coming and going and try my best to sweep up the pieces when something goes wrong. I thought production management in the printing business was a lousy, though lucrative, way to make a living. As I watch other people running a boatyard, I keep seeing a runaway locomotive, with the engineer desperately trying to keep it under control. For a newcomer, at least, it is totally crazy, all the time. Give me printing, which is at least in my comfort zone. But then again, printing is dying away, and "custom marine fabrication" (as it's called) is booming. Tough choice.

But there are good parts. Some of the people I'm working with are really excellent, with great personalities--some even have a sense of humor, which I crave. The whole atmosphere of the boatyard I find personally challenging. It's probably the toughest thing I've had to do in more than ten years, which tells you what a comfort zone I've been in. Just the whole work thing, punching in and punching out, has been an incredible adjustment, and believe me, I've had to check my ego at the door. I guess I used to think I was on an even footing with most people, but the past six or seven months have completely disabused me of that notion. I've come to realize that I'm just another schmuck, slithering through life, in possession of few real-world skills and with no more motivation than would fill a pinky thimble. It would be easier of my brother were around more, but he's needed at the main yard--where I'm at is one of their auxilliary operations. It's probably best, for now, that I'm just one of the pawns and don't have him around to bail me out.

What has happened, where exactly have I gone wrong, or has it all been just meant to be? That has been my trump card to despair for so long: things will work out, things will get better, this is just how it has to be for now. Well, the ripcord on that philosophy has finally been pulled and I just hope the parachute opens before I hit solid ground at about 200 miles per hour.

Unbelievably, even after writing that last paragraph, I do believe that everything's going to be OK. Am I completely stupid? Or am I so prideful that I can't admit to any failings? Will Frank Ryan Ink be anything beyond a cute logo? Will I grow to love the boat repair business, or will I sink into a sea of frustration at the inability to work as someone's "employee" after being self-employed for so long? I don't know--I guess my real character will come out now, for better or worse. Either I make the very best of the current situation, or I let it depress and frustrate me into the abyss, ever deeper.