You Can’t Keep A Good PG500 Down, No Matter How Hard You Try!

Bonus post for February 24, 2022.

Without getting into the details, it was 10 years ago that I hit the lowest point of my professional career. Think of the worst thing that can possibly happen, and I promise you it was worse.

Remember when I talked about Howie Mandel and The Dark Place. That was me. I have a pretty bad temper (yes I do) and we saw it in the aftermath.

A couple of things helped me right away. First, I started networking literally on the way home. One former boss, Larry, said, ‘You gotta be kidding me.’ Another one, Gary said the same thing and ‘If you need me I’m here.’ My therapist also said that you can get up from this, I know you can. All on the blackest of Black Fridays.

Then I told Lee (the guy who rode the shuttle to my office) I was done. One lady on the bus, Elvira (a real sweetheart) was in tears. I felt bad but it was good to know I would be remembered.

For the next couple of months I looked for work. I made a critical error at the end of one interview and I remember calling my wife on the way home calling myself a stupid idiot, and far worse. This went on for about 10 minutes.

And then a break. Someone had a hole in their group and needed a warm body. Louise (who the job reported to) wanted to talk to me at 11:30. I drove the 122 miles to corporate HQ. ‘Oh you could have called,’ she said. But I wanted in. Then I had an interview with the VP, Paul. My address screamed out ‘This is going to be a haul and a half.’ My response was on point ‘I’ll do whatever I have to do to get the right job. I’ve Put in for jobs in Manhattan and they’re more difficult to get to than here.’ (Factual) Then I told my friend Katie ‘Bang the drums to get me in there.’

Not long after that the offer came and on May 21, 2012, the next chapter of my life began. Eighty-seven days in the desert, and I was back in. And my therapist said ‘I knew you had it in you’

Postscript 1: That year I asked my brother for Rob Gronkowski’s jersey. I love Gronk. Honk for Gronk, said a sign near his house (and I always did) But the reason I wanted the jersey — and I told him this- was the number. 87. Eighty seven days in the desert. And I came out on the other side pretty good.

Postscript 2: This was about a year after I started. Remember the bombing at the Boston Marathon? A homemade bomb? People getting maimed or worse? Boston wouldn’t take it lying down. David Ortiz ‘This Is Our Fuxxing City!!!’

And then one day in the cafeteria I saw a big banner with the Red Sox logo ‘BOSTON STRONG’ It was at that moment — at that moment- I said ‘Yes. This is where I am supposed to be. 122 miles away from where I life. But I am supposed to be here, right here, right now.’

I will tell fans of bad teams — or people going through bad times- ‘It’s always darkest before the dawn.’ Ten years ago I experienced this. And I came out on the other side, better than I was. And that moment in the cafeteria.

I hope this inspires you. Enjoy the rest of your day. Out.



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