Bozo the Clown.
Even his name was amusing. He was a hero of mine-- pushing great stuff on kids of the 60's like Bosco, Fluffernutter sandwiches and Bulwinkle and Rocky cartoons.
I yearned to be on his show and just once be Ringmaster Butch and win the Treasure Chest of Prizes. Bozo has been on my mind because a friend of mine recently sent me a clip (thank you YouTube) featuring snippets of popular local programs we grew up with on Long Island. It was like sipping from the fountain of youth. I posted it on my Facebook page and others took a swig and walked down memory lane, playing stick ball, screaming "RING-A-LEEVO," and getting tangled in Chinese jump ropes.
In some ways, Bozo's Circus and after school snacks was a moment ago. In other ways, it was so many dusty years ago in my brain that I can't recall anymore if that kid in front of me in the third grade was Stephan or Stewart. Does it even matter? Probably not. But this year I am entering my 50th year of existence and I have to say, there's still a part of me that longs to win that big treasure chest of prizes and a year's supply of Bosco. I'd like to wear that Ringmaster Butch outfit and conduct the circus for just one day.
It hasn't been the best of times. I have been out of work for over a year and half. At first I expected to get another job right away. Everyone was certain I would. I was certain. But as the weeks moved to months and the calendar changed from 2009 to 2010, and now 2011, friends dropped away, phone calls stopped and contacts dried up. There's no blame. It happens. Life moves on. The circus moves on. I am a casualty of the economy, but the real challenge is not in being one of the injured, but in not being a victim.
Believe me, there are days that I want to simply give up. I want to eat the entire box of ring dings and say forget this! When every single resume seems to be ignored and those that I have sent in come back with the same encouraging words of, "We have filled the position but we will keep your resume on file..."
I have reinvented myself over and over with suggestions from recruiters and headhunters. I go to interviews and stand there wondering are my clothes right. I calmly explain my background, offer examples of my work, explain I would be willing to start again even at entry level. I just want to be back in the game again. I want to play on the team again. I just want to use my creative talents the way they are supposed to be used. Not to write resumes, but to write copy or articles or speeches. I want to help create award winning campaigns again. I want to feel that thrill when all the right words come together in an email and you think, "Yes, I nailed that!"
But the jobs keep alluding me. Is it age? Who knows? Is it my background? Is it my seniority? I have no idea. I feel I did well and then I hear nothing for weeks and then a polite "No thank you." That's when I need Bozo.
So I don't win the treasure chest of prizes and the year's supply of Bosco. There's always tomorrow. And in the words of my hero, I have to remember to ..."always keep laughing." Because that's the one thing that separates the victims from the victorious. The will to push forward.
