Never Say Never

Sean Connery and Romeo Void taught me something a long time ago: Never Say Never. Well, in Sean's case it was Never Say Never Again, but you get the point. You're smart.

I think I need to clarify a bit here, get you all on the same page; get the ball rolling as it were. I am a victim of this recession. One of the double-digit percenters currently searching for gainful employment. The organization I worked for was apparently delusional when they hired me and fully expected that by the very act of hiring a fundraiser, money would start flowing into its coffers. However, they didn't understand to what extent their reputation and community awareness were, well, non-existent. People do not throw money at an organization solely because you ask - go figure. As I slowly tried to establish them as an organization worthy of support, they decided they could no longer pay me - even though a year's salary had been allotted for just that purpose. I should have heeded the warning signs, but I ignored them: no strategic plan in place, no interest in outside counsel, no interest in board development, etc. Red flags every one of them. Surely indicative of an organization so insulated and insular as to not see how they are perceived outside their own walls. Fully believing its own self-generated hype. For an organization that bills itself as being wicked smaht, they do some wicked dumb stuff. Pissing contests over who's the smartest in the room are what children do, not adults. And every day was a pissing contest. Whatever.

Honestly, even though this experience left me jobless, I am happy to be away from them. They're toxic. Unfortunately, the experience did leave a bad taste in my mouth with regard to fundraising - I love doing it, but I'm gun-shy now. And, to add to that, the organizations that could use my help, can't afford me and those that can, aren't hiring. Very Joseph Heller-ish. So, here I am doing volunteer stuff like golf tournaments and grant writing - fulfilling but not in monetary fashion - as I flood places with resume after resume. Is not teh awesome. But I continue because, well, something's gotta hit, right? Maybe. We'll see. Breath: not holding it.

But, this is really a story about two paths and how they diverged in a yellow wood. No. That's not right. It is about two paths but there's nothing about a yellow wood. I need a job. My sanity needs a job. My family needs me to have a job. I hate this. With the heat of a thousand suns. All applying and no results makes Dubya a depressed dude. Fortunately, I do have options. No, I am not stripping. No one wants to look at a slightly overweight, hirsute 43-year-old in the buff. shiver Not even me. No, something far less revolting.

I re-enlisted. In the Guard. After 13 years of being out.

Something I swore up and down many moons ago that I would never do. I did my time I said. Eight years. That was enough I said. I will never re-enlist I said. Well, please refer back to Sean and Debora Iyall at the beginning of this post. Sometimes ya gotta do what ya gotta do. Yabba-dabba-do. Lest you think I take this lightly please disabuse yourself of that notion. I am fully aware of what I - we - have done. There is a very large elephant in the room and his name is Deployment. However, as a prior service soldier, I am not supposed to go anywhere for a minimum of two years. Let's see if that continues. But, at the same time, there are opportunities for me, at my rank, that make this a very palatable choice. A welcome choice. Besides, it is something I have bandied about for nearly a decade - much to the surprise of my 30-year-old self. I have felt like I left my time in the military incomplete. That there was more I could have done...should have done. I was moving right along through the ranks and there have always been nagging "what ifs." No regrets, mind you, just thoughts about where I would be had I stayed in.

From a practical standpoint, job security, retirement (working in nonprofits does not afford one a carefree retirement, just ask my 401(k)), upward mobility (again, where does one go after Director of Development that isn't lateral, hmmm?) and a free education to pursue my master's degree are very enticing. Not a bad benefits package if you ask me. I'm not saying that there wasn't some hesitation on my part in the early goings of this (I'd be lying if I did), but the decision has re-invigorated me; stoked the fire of determination; given me purpose. It has forced me to go above and beyond to make something happen. Maybe I will regale you with the story of what it has taken for me to get back in at a later date - it involves pricks and blood and...hey, get your minds out of the gutter people, this is a family blog. But Mrs. Big Dubya said it best: We are not taking no for an answer. And we didn't. I swore in (again) last Tuesday, August 10 at 11:10 a.m. A second lieutenant said to me, "Welcome back, sergeant" as he shook my hand.

Sergeant. It's been a long time since anyone has called me that. And you want to know something? I've missed it. Really missed it. Honestly. Who'da thunk?

Never say never.