Thoughts on Child Labor? Keep them to yourself.

Two days ago as I was walking to the building where I babysit (hey, an intern still has make a living), I saw a whole row of giant trucks parked along the street. Before my brain even processed what that meant, my adrenaline started pumping and I started walking faster. An open truck revealed those pieces of lighting equipment that I have come to know so well. Some further investigation netted me the name: Damages. Glenn Close was filming on the block. And by the sheer number of trucks, trailers, and crew members milling about, I knew they weren’t just shooting B-Roll. This was the real thing. I got out 3 copies of my resume…. And well, you have read enough of these stories by now that it’s not even funny or exciting anymore. Woo Hoo, she gave out her resume another 15 times.

WRONG.

This time, resumes in hand, I began walking towards the first important looking person that I saw (not Glenn Close). And then, I froze. My heart just wasn’t in it. What was I going to do? Smile, make some joke, and try to give the guy my resume in the hopes that he will pass it on to someone who might actually follow up with me? That dream is fading. And I have already had this experience more than a few times, so I cant even do it for the good story anymore.
Instead, I had to come up with a new plan.
I continued to the apartment where my little Jack and Jill (names have obviously been changed) were waiting for me to entertain them on such a cold wintry day. And it was there that I hatched my new plan. Something worth re-telling, even if it doesn’t provide me with a check in the empty employed box next to my name.
I took out a handful of resumes from my backpack, and also a stack of Post It’s that I also carry around with me. (I don’t think there is any good reason why I do that.) Together with J & J, we made tons of Post It’s saying things like:

• Hire my nanny so I can spend more time with my mom.
• My babysitter would rather work for you for free than get paid another hour to watch me.
• My babysitter would rather be a PA.
• I’ll miss my nanny if you take her away, but my loss is your gain.
• Hire my Babysitter!
• My nanny will intern for free!

Then we folded up some resumes, put Post It’s on each of them, and ventured outside into the midst of ‘Damages’.
We walked out onto the blocked off street with a purpose. We passed out resumes to various members of the production crew, and then I steered the kids back inside.
Will it work? Probably not.
Did someone get a laugh? I hope so.
Does it make for a unique story? I would venture a yes.

Super Freaky

The life of an intern is neither profitable nor glamorous, but I can’t deny that there are perks when you least expect them. For example: the car service that picks you up at 5am. Your internship pays for it because they want to be sure you make it in on time for the 6am radio show. They don’t tell you its because they are worried you will oversleep. Instead, they make it sound like they are doing you a huge favor, and are concerned for your safety; they don’t want you to risk the dangerous subways and streets of New York at such an ungodly hour.
Better though, is when you show up at the internship, its 5:20am, and you find that instead of the boring morning of coffee making that you groaned about when you pressed snooze on your alarm, that someone exciting is going to be in the studio that morning.
For example, recently as I prepared to pinch myself awake for 4 straight hours, I found that my first job of the morning was to pick up Stephen Dubner.
Stephen Dubner? Yes, you are dumb. You should know who he is. But in case the symbol of a sliced open Apple/Orange doesn’t jog your memory, I will inform you. Stephen Dubner is one of the co-authors of Freakanomics.
I guess the reason that I in particular was super excited about this, is that for a class back in my freshman year of college, I had to write a letter (I forget the assignment exactly) to someone who had had an article published. And I decided to write to Stephen and Steven, the co-authors of Freakanomics. And now I got a chance to talk to the man himself. And he was exactly what one would expect. Flyaway hair, thick rimmed glasses, and forever concerned that his thermos full of coffee was going to spill on his MacBook.
I chatted with him for a bit, and mentioned what an honor it was to meet him, as I had actually once wrote him a letter. He looked at me concerned and said, “Did I not write you back!?” I explained how I had not actually sent the letter, but rather, I just wrote it for an assignment. To which he responded that I should of course send it to him.
At this point in my life I think the letter is a bit silly (especially being as their second book just came out, and they went with an exploding fruit for the cover art) but here goes:

Dear the guys who wrote Freakanomics,

I read your book. I like the way you think. Out of all the statements and all the theories, I like your conclusions on the correlations between legalizing abortion and the drop in crime. For those of you who haven’t read the book, forgive me Stephen Dubner and Steven Levitt, as I butcher your intelligence in a one-line explanation. In the 1970’s, abortion became legalized; and about 16 years later, when all of those unwanted fetuses would have reached the age to become criminals (potentially a reflection of poor parenting from the resentful people who raised them) the crime rate dropped. Coincidence? Maybe. But also- maybe not. I marveled at the gall of such a statement to a nameless friend of mine. His response? That is just a theory; there is no way to test it. Hmmm, am I stupid or something? It’s impossible to test a theory? I pointed this out and we established that the only way to test this theory would be as follows. Step 1: Find a country with a highish crime rate where abortion is illegal. Step 2: Legalize abortion. Step 3: Wait until that year of fetuses hits the age where they would become criminals. Step 4: Observe if the crime rate goes down.

So Stephen, Steven, keep yours ears peeled for a country that you could influence. Test this out. I promise to promote your next book. And I can guarantee that I will buy it. I can’t guarantee that other people will, but I have a theory that another book will do almost as well as the first. Oh, and one last thing! I’ve been thinking about what two fruits would work as your cover art. Besides for an orange, which you already used, there are not many other fruits that distinguishable on the inside. The one I came up with? A watermelon. If on your next book cover you had the shell of a pineapple, with the inner slice revealing watermelon, I think it would be a huge success. I’m going to copyright the image, but for you guys who did me such a favor by testing out the abortion theory in some third world country, I would let you guys use it for free.

Thanks.

I guess the cool thing about all of this, is that I actually got to meet someone that I wrote a hypothetical letter to in a class. How many interns luck out like that?

There is Desperate..... and then there is Too Desperate

This ad was posted on the TV/FILM/RADIO section of craigslist with the title:
Tickling for $150/hr

Now, I was just curious- no way interested- just curious to see what the author of the posting might say to convince someone to contact him- so I clicked on the link.

But after reading the post, I was still not reassured. I mean, who responds to these postings?

These ads appear on craigslist all the time.
I'm just curious to know if anyone responds to them.

Why howling at the moon probably won’t get you a job.

This is a story probably unlike one you have ever heard before. And it starts on a typical Tuesday morning. During my internship interview week, I raced about the city taking full advantage of my 30 day unlimited metro card. During that time, I had a few unusual experiences, met a few unusual people, and leaned about a few unusual places to work. But there is one in particular that stands out.
I entered the production company in SoHo whose name I will keep to myself. The whole building was filled with the air of ‘we are hipsters who have money- and we shop at Urban Outfitters’. Still though, those people are cool, and so I was pleased with my surroundings as I sat down in the waiting room after giving the receptionist my name. Once again, I was the first person being interviewed for the position. But this time, I don’t think that had any effect on my getting the job. After a few minutes of waiting, and eavesdropping on the conversations happening all in around me in the office, I surmised that this was the type of place where coworkers are friends- meaning, they all clearly hang out together after work. I’m all for that. Don’t necessarily need it, but hey, creates a great work environment. Finally, I was called in to meet with the head of the production department in a glass conference room in the back of the lobby.
I wish I could draw an actual diagram for you right now, but I guess you will have to use your imaginations.
There were three glass walls to the conference room, and the fourth wall was the exterior wall- it had windows in it looking out onto the street. I sat facing the window, with the glass wall behind me, and behind that- the lobby of the office. My interviewer sat with her back to the window, looking at me and through the glass walls into the lobby behind me.
She started off the interview with the usual going through my resume and explaining the details of the company and the specifics of the position I was applying for. It was when the conversation gets interesting and we talk a little bit about me and how I ended up in her office, that her attention began to drift. I noticed that she was no longer looking at me, but taking long glances over my shoulder until finally, she smiled, waved, and then turned her attention back to me and apologized. She explained that some of her subordinates realized re was interviewing someone new, and were trying to make her laugh by making faces through the glass wall behind me. I chuckled and we laughed about having a fun office and company pranks and the like.
I then continued my spiel about why I was uniquely the perfect person for the job and I realized that I had lost her again. But this time, it was not discreet. She suddenly yelped, squealed with laughter, and ran by my left shoulder out the glass doors and started chasing another mid-30s man around the receptionist’s area beating on him with my rolled up resume.
After another few laps around the reception desk, she panted back into the room laughing. She said, “I probably shouldn’t tell you this, so unprofessional, but well, he just mooned me!” Then it got better. “I was totally in control of myself and ignoring it but then he started doing squats against the glass wall and well, I lost it.”
I went with it. I laughed, showing that I was cool with public nudity, and was totally in for being fun and absurd among office friends. But I had lost her attention completely. So even though I sent her a thank you note making light of the mooning incident, I think that either she was too embarrassed by the episode to actually hire me, or she couldn’t remember anything about me because the image of some man’s hairy buttocks was branded onto her brain.

When It Rains It Pours

About every two months I get a whole slew of emails offering me interviews. I don’t know why it happens in a cycle, but it always does. I wont hear a word from a single company, not a single positive response and usually not a single response at all. Then suddenly in the same week, I’ll get seven emails offering me interviews.
And so the rush begins again! The interview suit comes out, resumes get reprinted by the dozens, and if it were possible, I start getting even less sleep.
To me, interviewing is like craigslist, and craigslist is like a blind date. You absolutely never know who or what you might find on the other side of the door. And any one of those experiences could change your life forever.
Whether the interview be a 15 minute meet and greet, or an hour of resume nit picking, for that time you get a glimpse into the other side of your situation. The employed side. And you get caught up in the moment! You even start to feel important just to be interviewing for these intern positions. And why shouldn’t you? These interviewers are making a sales pitch to you (obviously because they want you to work for free) and trying to convince you that you should be honored to be considered for such an exciting time at their company. And then you get excited, and start selling yourself to them. Here is my resume! Here is what I can do for you!
I guess I am what they call lucky, in that I have actually been offered a variety of internships, and I usually get to choose where I want to devote my hardworking free time to. However, it is a harder decision than it seems. Each of these companies is probably excellent, and sometimes, when you are working for free, it all boils down to convenience. Which office is closest to the train? Which company has the best hours for my schedule? But personally, I think the most important question to weigh is: which company is going to give me the best connections? Which is the one I’ll be able to look back and say, if I hadn’t done that I never would have met _____ which eventually led me to ______ which eventually introduced me to the position I end up finding my self in…. successfully. Sometimes, I think I choose wrong. Other times, its easy to remember why I made the decision I did. But mostly, I can easily see where my first impressions of a place are skewed. It’s easy to get caught up in an interview when the interviewer is presenting their internship as the stepping-stone to your future. But it’s hard to remember how this internship is helping your future when you are making copies and getting coffee.

And so it begins! Let the runaround continue!



Bob, let's see what's behind Door Number 3!

Into The Wild, There Goes Another Resume

Yesterday I gave out my resume, not to a celebrity, not to a reporter, not to an awesome job contact. Yesterday I gave out my resume to a guy on the street. During my wild promoting for a film at my current internship, I got stopped in Union Square by one of the many of flyer wielding carnivores. When he realized that I was not a potential customer but rather someone who was soon going to be fighting for the same 10 square foot area of sidewalk battlefield, he introduced himself, and we began to chat. Over the next few hours, I learned that Rob (*names have been changed) made a huge amount of moolah from just handing out fliers. Rob, an aspiring actor, is also of course involved somewhat in the film industry. And by that I mean, makes mini documentaries with no budget to speak of, but just because he is an arts person, and no money no matter.
While him having my resume in no way gets me closer to getting me a job, I met someone cool on the street, and now will potentially be a production assistant for one of his films some random Sunday in Brooklyn. By the time that happens though and I get to put it on my resume, I hope I will have better information for him instead of ‘guy on the street’.