News From A World Of Hurt

The Wall Street Journal greeted us with a roundup of the world's shrinking economies. In the first quarter, the U.S. was falling at 6.3 percent, Germany at 14.4, Japan at 15.2, and Mexico at 21.5. With America's biggest trading partners in that kind of swoon, it's no wonder the recession just keeps dragging on.

Layoffs continue to pile up, if more slowly. The Department of Labor reports 631,000 new claims in the week ending May 16, down 12,000 from the revised figure the week before. That means some 6,662,000 are drawing unemployment benefits. Economist Ian Shepherdson of High Frequency Economics notes that last week's numbers were revised upward, which suggests that "the underlying pace of claims is not slowing as much as appeared to be the case a few weeks ago."

Whatever the numbers, there's a whole lot of hurt out there. Glenn writes:

I just listened to your most recent podcast, the one that provides a breakdown on the history of derivatives/risk transfer and tells the story of a woman who has to rent an apartment three hours away from her family just so she can hold on to her job a little bit longer (just until the eventual layoff). Like so many people now, I can identify with her situation, and I feel her pain.

This coming Monday (May 25) will be my six month anniversary of unemployment. Since that period, my life has become a cliche. I'm a jazz saxophonist/composer in New York with a master's degree from an Ivy League music school (New England Conservatory of Music), and I've got the student loan debt to prove it. Three years ago, after filling in as a college professor in Fairbanks, Alaska, I moved back to NYC (lived here twice before) in hopes of becoming a member of the community of musicians that I admire so much. And around that time, I made peace with the idea that I would have to work in an office in order to facilitate my music career goals. I know a lot of artistic people look down upon office work as a necessary evil, but compared to playing weddings and cruise ship gigs, sitting in an office and punching formulas into Excel is a breath of fresh air.

I got a job working for a Fund of Funds that is now collapsing. I can't state the name of the fund for compliance/confidentiality reasons, but I wish I could....I've been told that the company is liquidating all of their assets and most employees have all but been provided with an empty banker's box to pack their personal affects into. It's a shame, because these are good people, and even though I was laid off, it doesn't make me feel any better to know that my former coworkers are on their way to becoming jobless, as well.

. . ..

[W]ith no background in finance, there were many times when I was completely unaware of how to interpret or analyze the data I was provided with. I had no idea what a traunch was, or what it meant to rebalance quarterly, or anything like that. But you don't need to have your CFA certification in order to recognize that subsequent months of negative numbers spread globally throughout a company's investments is regarded as a bad thing. There were several times when I specifically voiced concern for the stability of my job to my supervisor, who repeatedly not only told me that my job was not in danger, but once added, "Look, even if you lost your job, you would get three or four month's salary as severance, so it would kind of be a good thing." On November 25, two days before Thanksgiving, I was called into a private meeting with the CEO and President of the company, where I sat at a $20,000 designer desk, surrounded by $2 million in artwork, being told that I was among the initial 10% workforce layoff that the company was forced to undertake in a desperate attempt to keep things going. My severance: one month's salary.

My severance package also included one month of outplacement services. These services were nothing more than instruction towards spinning my wheels without actually accomplishing anything. After the month was up, the agency offered to continue with me, and I told them to take a hike. I registered with sixteen job agencies, three or four of which have provided me with piecemeal work (a day here, a day there). At best, I make as much money temping as I do collecting unemployment.

I've interviewed anywhere and everywhere. In fact, I had four interviews just last week. Some of these interviews are with financial firms in denial ("Yes, everyone else is struggling, but we're innovative and strong enough to persevere . . . Well, it looks as if we're having massive 'reorganization' at all levels. Who saw that coming?"), but I'm not picky. I'll do anything for anyone for any amount of money. And while I'm capable of performing the tasks for every job I've interviewed for, I can't tell you the number of times that people have looked at the education portion of my resume (master's degree, jazz performance) and been told, "You don't want to work here. You would be bored."

But even the interviews that go well all end in a void. Most of these companies (particularly the financial ones) go through the process of narrowing down candidates, which takes weeks, only to hire no one. I honestly think the truth behind all of this is that these companies aren't doing as well as they think they are. After all, several of NYC's temp agencies have laid off workers at all levels. And when the people who are in charge of doling out jobs are themselves jobless, then what's left for the rest of us?

I'm 35. I can't move forward. I can't afford to take non-paying gigs with my own group (when I was employed, I payed the musicians in my band out of pocket). I'm single, but I can't date, because who in God's name wants to date an unemployed 35-year-old? I've registered for an online certificate program in accounting, but won't have anything to show for it until February. I've got a unversity in Boise, ID, looking to hire me for a one-year fill-in position, but I've worked too hard to have what I've built up. And one thing is for sure in New York: if you leave, there's always someone eager to take your place.

People tell me that I'm in good company. In fact, I have several close friends who are in the same boat with me. Sadly, this makes me feel worse, not better. Because if I knew that things were better for other people, then maybe I would have a chance too.