So You Want to Be a Rock ‘n’ Roll Star

Yeah, I want to be a rock 'n' roll star. My best guess as to when the thought first crossed my mind? Somewhere around 1967, the Summer of Love, when we went to visit my cousin Leo up at Berkeley, and my mom had to yank me away from constantly asking the longhairs on Telegraph, "are you a hippie?"

I got sidetracked from rock 'n' roll, in spite of my talent on the blues harp, because let's face it, making it as an artist is lottery-level odds, even if you're good. That's why I've been all sorts of other things: administrative assistant, graphic designer/production artist, IT business owner. And yet, I've never given up the dream. Storytelling is my rock 'n' roll. I've been doing it since the fifth grade, when my pal Elston and I wrote our first novel, the story of Jed and Stefia, two talking dogs, when we should have been paying attention in Miss Muehleman's class. I was a writer then, I'm a writer and performer now. What are the odds at this stage in life? Still lottery-level. But what the hell.

If you're any sort of artist, university degrees and trade school certificates don't mean much. The School of Hard Knocks is where you pay your dues, and even then, there's no guarantee of success.

That means you've got to get a day job. But what? If you're like most creatives, you're going to become toxic and unemployable. Which means you've got to go into business for yourself, even if you don't want to. One option is to become a notary. Lots of people do that, and some of them make a living. That's the path I decided to go (I'm about to receive my commission). Still, not enough of a move to differentiate from the crowd. You've got to stand out. Me, I'm a storytelling notary. That's different. Not different enough. In standup comedy, there's something called the rule of three's. At least, I think that's what it's called, and I believe it's a comedy thing. Regardless, I don't want to just be a storytelling notary. What I really want to be is Boise, Idaho's #2 storyteller, wedding officiant, and notary. Why wedding officiant? Well, it just seems to go well with the storytelling. Instead of always telling MY story, I can also tell other people's stories. Like the one thing about you that only your fiance knows. Or how you met. Or what Aunt Maybelle really thinks of you. That would be a lot of fun.

Doesn't have to stop there. I'm not going to put it on my business card (remember, rule of three's), but I'm also untouchable when it comes to eulogies. I'm the one who'll finally reveal what Aunt Maybelle really thought of all of you gathered here today to pay your final respects.

Poor Aunt Maybelle, she left us so suddenly. Was it an accident, or did Uncle Robert spike her morning whiskey with one too many Benadryl?

Whatever you're doing, no matter the odds, don't give up because you think there's not a snowball's chance in hell you're going to make it. You might not make it, or maybe you will. Can you imagine showing up at The Pearly Gates one day, full of Benadryl, and St Peter's working the box office, and The Byrds are singing, and St Peter takes one look at you and says "hey, didn't you want to be a rock 'n' roll star?" And you're going to stand there feeling all kinds of ashamed, as St Peter gazes at you sadly in that non-judgy way that makes you feel a thousand times worse for being a colossal disappointment to yourself and everyone else.

Don't be a quitter. Pursue the dream and do whatever you've got to do to feed your family and not be a disappointment to the ones who passed before you.

Don’t Trash Talk Starbucks If You Want a Job Anywhere

You shouldn't trash talk your employers or prospective employers in a public forum like LinkedIn. That's why you never hear me say anything bad about CapEd Credit Union, even though they separated me for posting a link to my Christmas show, PUT YOUR CLOTHES ON, YOU'RE IN MIDDLETON NOW on our company intranet. I can see why they did it, even though I don't like that they did. Lesson learned, don't post links on the company intranet, especially if they refer to touchy subjects like putting your clothes on, even though the show was PG family friendly. No, I still don't get it.

Starbucks seems like it would be a safe target, considering how big they are. Everybody hates the big guy. I interviewed at two stores in the last week. Both interviews went exceedingly well. Great conversation, and the interviewers were emphatic about how much they loved my answers. Cool. Got it in the bag. I was a bit concerned when yesterday's interviewer brought up the morning shift, which begins at 3am. What I said was that I'm available to do what's needed. What I was thinking was "maybe I don't really want to work at Starbucks." The other thing I was thinking about Starbucks is that it might not be a good idea to work there, considering my coffee FOMO and how every time I drink coffee, it's great for an hour or two, and then it's nothing but regret for the rest of the day, with the sour stomach and my gut feeling like it's in a vise grip even worse than it normally feels, which is already pretty bad.

They gave me a free drink at the interview, in this case a decaf iced caramel macchiato. I'd already downed a can of Yerba Madre on my way over. Even though the free drink was decaf, I still got a sour stomach. Remind me, what's the point of decaf again?

We ran through the various STAR questions, you know:

Situation.

Task.

Action.

Result.

To weed out any non-star baristas. I've got nothing against weeding people out, unless those people happen to be me. Just give me the goddamn job, and I'll show you how it's done, once you properly train me.

The interviewer, a newly minted ASM, which stands for Assistant Store Manager, thanked me and said they'd let me know around Monday whether I made it to the next round, with the district manager. I didn't have to wait that long.

Soon after arriving back home, the phone rang, and it was the manager from the first store I interviewed with. She apologized for not getting back to me on Monday like she said she would (it was now Wednesday), and that they'd decided to proceed with someone else. I said "thank you" and to keep me in mind for the future, which by the way does not exist as far as Starbucks is concerned.

Shortly after that, I received an email from Starbucks corporate saying I hadn't been chosen for the second location, either.

There was a third location that was actually the first location, and that rejection landed a few weeks earlier. I don't know why I'm not good enough for Starbucks. Is it age? Attitude? I come across as being beyond positive and highly energetic, even though I'm not really either of those things. Must not be that.

Are they reading my LinkedIn posts and determining I'm some sort of loose cannon or too big a personality to be contained within the confines of a Starbucks store? That they really don't want the old man whose dream job is to be the compassionate yet tech savvy guy who texts you when your loved one dies in the drive thru? Could be.

Feedback no longer exists, as it could get a company sued for not hiring you. Therefore, whenever you don't get the job, you have to speculate on why. Speculate is a fancy word for assume, and we all know what that means. To speculate is to assume, but on spec. And late. Not sure what the "u" is for.

Maybe the thing I really want to do, which is tell stories, is the thing I ought to be doing. God will show me the way. Except God is busy with more important things, and pulling a 3am morning shift isn't the worst use of my time.

Starbucks, if you're listening, I'm not taking the rejection personally. I'll still stop in to use the restroom when I'm out on the road, and I might even order something now that the restrooms are customer-only. Probably not a decaf.

A Simple Spaghetti Recipe

One job I think I'd be good at is the guy who texts you when your loved one dies. I've got compassion, and I'm tech savvy.

Another thing I'm good at is spaghetti. Spaghetti seems like it would be difficult, but it isn't. Just fill a big pot about halfway with water, and set it on high on the stove till it boils over. Then, add a tablespoon of salt, stir it in, and let it come back to temp. Next, dump a box of spaghetti into the pot, and when it starts to get out of control with water about to spill out, dial back the fire to medium or medium low. Don't forget to set a timer for ten or eleven minutes, which is when it'll be done.

While all that is going on, or before if you're organized, squeeze some minced garlic out of the bottle into a mixing bowl. Use more than you think you'll need, because any amount of garlic is the right amount of garlic, especially if you use a lot. Don't tell Matthew Beaudin you're using bottled garlic, or you'll never hear the end of it. Add olive oil and mix it all together.

If you're lucky, like me, your wife will have left some tomatoes on the counter she was planning to eat later. Stick those in a pan with some butter and olive oil, and cook them till you think they're done, and the stove is covered in splattered oil. Add those to the bowl of olive oil and garlic.

Once the timer goes off at ten or eleven minutes, use a pair of tongs to fish out a spaghetti to make sure it's cooked the way you like. Put it on a paper towel next to the stove before sticking it in your mouth so that you don't burn yourself or end up with too many strands. If it's good, turn off the fire and grab the pot of spaghetti with your bare hands or oven mitts, and pour it through a spaghetti strainer. Make sure all the water's gone and transfer the spaghetti to a big mixing bowl. Pour the olive oil, garlic, and tomatoes onto the bowled spaghetti, and you're pretty much done except for the eating. Some people add cheese, but I don't see why. Cheese should only be eaten on pizza.

If, while eating spaghetti, you happen to get a text, that could be me with that message about your loved one. Wait till you're done eating, as there's nothing you can do about it now.