The Unemployed Life

Gigonomics: Outplacement, Ho!

Today is the day. I’ve shaved, coifed my nose hairs, and for the first time since I was laid off, I put on pants with creases in them. I add that nice Charles Tyrwhitt  shirt that I bought the last week I had my job—three weeks ago—and a sport coat. I take a leather-bound notebook and a not-Office-Depot-looking pen, and I’m good to go.

I feel freaky.

Today is the first day of my job-placement classes. It is one of the adios! benefits provided by my previous employer. A swell parting gift, to be sure, but makes me wonder if I couldn’t just trade in this generosity and kindness for another year of hard labor. Nevertheless, hi ho, hi ho, it’s off to classes we go. I’m wading back into the mainstream, if only up to my ankles.

The company that has agreed to take my sorry-ass, unemployed soul and whip me into a fully functioning contributing citizen is Right Management, an international outplacement service that has more than 300 locations in over 50 countries. According to their website, Right provides “integrated consulting solutions across the employment lifecycle.” From my current perspective—after decades in print publishing—I’m not sure what stage of the employment lifecycle I’m at. It feels eerily like The End.

So as I motor over to Right HQ, I’m skeptical. I have a pretty good idea of what I’m going to get—advice on polishing my resume until it is shiny as a surgical tray, plus lots of interviewing tips: always wear matching socks; don’t drool; don’t pick. And strategies. I am going to get negotiating strategies and networking strategies and self-marketing strategies that will make the Jonas Brothers look like wilted lettuce.

I meet with Deb, my counselor-for-an-hour. Deb will give me the initial tour of Right’s services and programs. She ushers me into a cozy, generic office that the unemployed are allowed to use during the day as they try to re-inflate their punctured careers. The dark cherry desk and demure decor is no doubt intended to provide a familiar ambiance, the way we put Kitty’s favorite blanket in her cage before we cart her off to the vet. I find myself trying too hard to find a comfortable seating position, one that displays confidence and just a touch of executive insouciance. Don’t know why, it isn’t a job interview. But hey, I have a rep to live up to: former media honcho turned schlub.

Deb starts asking me about myself. Some nuts and bolts things, sure, but more like, How do I feel? How am I doing? How is my wife taking the news? To tell the truth, it’s a relief to talk on a more personal level. I joke that she is a good psychoanalyst and should have a couch in the office. She replies that, in fact, her capacity as executive counsel is one of several hats she wears. She is, for example, a writer. Hey! So am I! She is also developing a professional persona as a “spiritual life coach,” helping people find their full potential.

Somehow, that perspective is liberating. I confess a romantic notion of wanting to move out West but add that I’m not sure if that is a viable career decision. She assures me it is.

“What could happen?” she asks. “You’re already unemployed, so the worst is over. You’ve got a good severance. Now’s the time to take advantage. Re-invent yourself. Do what you love.” There’s a part of me—a good part—that needs to hear exactly this. We get on great, exchange email addresses. We vow to keep in touch, as I will now move on to other programs within Right and won’t be dealing directly with Deb. As she writes down her contact info she apologizes for her odd last name, explaining, “It’s Czech.”

“So is mine.” We laugh—serendipitous networking is in the house. After we get through the rest of the management services details—I have a three-month package with Right Management—I thank her and take off. On the drive home I am, for the first time in weeks, upbeat. I have no job still, but this man may go West. Now I just have to tell my wife.

John Riha spent more than 20 years in magazine publishing including stints as managing editor of Traditional Home and executive editor of Better Homes and Gardens before being laid off in January. He now produces multi-media content, video, and, yup, is thinking about cranking out that novel. You know the one.

You can read all of John Riha’s columns here.

Tags: Gigonomics, outplacement, The Unemployed Life, The Working World