Hey Ottawa Employers: Take my husband, please!
Dear Ottawa Employers:
I am writing on behalf of my husband who has been videographer and journalist for more than 30 years. I would be grateful if you would consider giving him a job.
(Except for call centre. I don't want him to kill himself.)
To quote Henny Youngman: "Take my husband, please."
Scott took early retirement from the CBC about a decade ago to pay off his ex-wife, and get rid of her. He gave her a house and $100,000. (Many of you employers, I'm sure, can relate.)
In turn, she called the Canadian Blood Services, where he had donated platelets more than 100 times. She told them he was a gay, intravenous drug user.
As his wife of 14 years, I can swear an oath that he is none of the above.
Unfortunately, her claim resulted in his expulsion from the program, and he is no longer able to donate blood and platelets, resulting in the Canadian Blood Services losing a valued contributor and life-saver.
After Scott left the CBC, we started a company making web videos for not-for-profits.
Unfortunately, this coincided with the video revolution, which meant any 14-year-old could take a video with their iPhone, and thus left us with $20,000 in video equipment which is now languishing in the closet. It also coincided with a relatively bleak period in the craft of journalism where both Scott and I have toiled over the years.
Today, there are many unemployed journalists who may have similar resumes.
But I'm not writing about them. They can get their own damned jobs.
Needless, to say, my immensely talented husband took a job in retail meaning he rode his bike to Home Depot at 4 a.m. He then took a flyer on working in the car business where he has been for the past eight years. For those of you not familiar with the car business, it is essentially Amway on wheels, a highly discriminatory venture which makes rich people richer, and causes car sales people to subsidize their earnings at the Ottawa Food Bank.
Now, as they say, he is looking for a new "opportunity."
In terms of skills, he has the mind of an engineer, can dismantle anything and put it back together. He is great at customer service and sales, and has a winning personality. He is particularly loved by dogs and old people.
He can speak and read French, but can't write it. But I ask you: who can?
My husband is willing to work long hours for minimum wage or better. He comes with his own set of lights and audio equipment and his own car. He can lift more than 200 pounds.
I can verify this, as he had to lift me off the floor when he told me he had left the car business.
As for me, if you have a job for me, I'll gladly take it as well. However, as a newly diagnosed skin cancer patient, I must warn you, I look like somebody shot me in the face with a BB gun so perhaps you would not like me serving coffee to your patrons. I would be happy working in a backroom wearing a phantom of the opera mask, if necessary.
People, hire my husband.
If you can't hire either of us, perhaps you could consider contributing to this blog. It will keep me off the street, and my face will not scare small children.
See the button on the top left hand side?
Feel free to press it. You know you want to.
Let's get old people back to work in this country.
As Red Green famously said, "We may not be handsome but we're handy."