NICE WORK, IF YOU CAN GET IT

I had found a job back in 1951 after reading a want ad in an employment agency window. Now, in 1967, something similar happened. 08/10/2017

NICE WORK IF YOU CAN GET IT

For almost six months, while enduring a miserable commute from my home in San Mateo to San Francisco, no new employment opportunity came my way. Then, in January 1967, this want ad appeared in the San Francisco Chronicle:

Purchasing Agent; Utility Company; Phoenix, Arizona. Applicants should have both M.E. and MBA degrees. Interviews limited to this day only.

My heart pounded. I matched this job’s qualifications.

At noon I raced over to the address given and submitted my resume to a man who introduced himself as the Personnel Director.   

"It’s excellent, and I am certain my colleague would want to interview you when he returns from lunch. His title is Manager, Supply Department, and he is the person doing the hiring. Can you wait for him?"

My mind raced feverishly.

“No. I must get back to work in a half hour.”

I asked, "Do you have dinner plans?"

"We haven't made any, but we'll most likely eat at some restaurant on Fisherman’s Wharf. We both love salmon. Afterwards, we’ll be driving to Sacramento to conduct more interviews tomorrow before returning to Arizona.”

   A wild, off-the-wall, thought hit me.

"My car is parked at the train station in Millbrae. Would you consider driving me there after work? Just minutes away from the depot is a wonderful restaurant located on the bay whose specialty is salmon. You can interview me as we travel down the freeway. After you dine, you can cross the San Mateo Bridge and be on your way to Sacramento."   

To my great delight, he accepted my bizarre suggestion. After work, I sprinted over to meet him and his colleague and hopped in the back seat of their rental car. As we proceeded up the ramp onto the highway, my interview began. It went along these lines:

"Why do you want this job?" one of them posed.

“Just look around. How would you like to put up with this traffic every day? That’s why I commute by train. Commuting to San Francisco from my home in San Mateo is nerve wracking and time consuming. It rains here frequently. I need to relocate someplace where it’s sunny and commuting less strenuous.”

The other one said, "In this job, you'll have to interact with various engineering groups and institute new purchasing practices and procedures. What experience do you have in this regard?"

“I wrote and delivered a technical paper to an engineering society, have years of Toastmasters training, am fair-minded, flexible, and have a great sense of humor. These traits and skills allow me to work closely with co-workers and management.”

"You will be supervising personnel who have no academic training beyond high school. How do you propose to interact with them?"

"I'm a good teacher, able to instruct people, a person who listens and weighs options before taking action. My education will help facilitate my ability to communicate with staff. I don’t talk down to my children or to employees.”     

Not all of this was true, of course, but I hoped it would make a favorable impression. As the interview continued, I laced my responses with witty or pointed stories that seemed appropriate, conversing with these two strangers as if they were old friends. 

“My prior employment responsibilities mesh with those needed to fill this position,” I said authoritatively, hoping that neither of them knew the specifics of corporate purchasing.  

"What salary had you in mind?"

"I require ten percent more than I am currently earning." In truth, I would have taken the job for a cut in pay of that amount.

"That might be possible. This position has an additional benefit, a company take-home car to use for commuting to work."

Visions of sugar plums danced in my head. Are you kidding me? What a great benefit. It’s worth more than the salary increase mentioned.

Before the interview ended, I summarized my qualifications: an excellent job record which included corporate purchasing experience, a stable family life, an undergraduate and a graduate degree that precisely met their job requirements, a confident bearing, and an eagerness and willingness to relocate. Could there be a better candidate?  I hoped not.

Imagine my delight when a letter arrived a few weeks later from Salt River Project offering me the job. It read, in part, "Anyone capable of conducting an interview while seated in the back seat of a car traveling 70 mph down a freeway deserves to be hired." My heart leaped for joy.

At about the same time, Boeing offered me a job in Seattle. It came nowhere close to matching SRP’s offer which I accepted immediately. My new employer not only raised my salary ten percent, they agreed to provide me with a company car for commuting purposes, and pay our moving expenses.   

I had to report for work on March 6, 1967. This presented a challenge to our household. We decided that Angie would remain in San Mateo until our children finished school that semester. I planned to move to Phoenix and live in a furnished apartment until she and our six and growing children could join me. We put our house up for sale, and prepared for a new beginning.

A year or so later, Boeing lost a major defense contract and began to lay off employees, most of them newly hired. In accounting inventory jargon, it would be termed LIFO (last in, first out). TV coverage showed some former workers standing on the chilly streets of Seattle, peddling apples. Thank goodness SRP had hired me. There is little doubt I would have been one of those poor unfortunate souls up north singing the blues in rainy Washington. Instead, I found myself down south whistling “Dixie” in sunny Arizona, doing the “nice work” that I had gotten.

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