Here's a report from the front lines of a job search for an aging man in the middle of a pandemic and the worst job market in 90 years:
Phew, it stinks.
I mean a literal stink.
Have you ever accidentally spill limburger cheese on your car manifold and then driven 600 miles?
That's the stench.
(As an aside, you'd be surprised how often this happens in Wisconsin.)
I continue to apply to jobs that would suit my skill set but I've also turned to looking for food service jobs. I can bartend. I can wait tables. But it turns out those are a young person's game, I'm told. Plus my bartending service 30 years ago was in joints where the name of the drink was in the order: Whiskey coke, Seagram's and Seven, gin and tonic, tap beer, a shot of whatever cures what ails you.
I've thought about turning to a sales job but the old advice is that a salesman is essentially selling himself. Ain't know one buying that.
Hell, I wouldn't buy me.
I will keep you updated my friends. If any of you know of a business that needs an older, larger man, who specializes in being a smart aleck, please alert me.
Peace and dad jokes unto you my brothers and sisters.