About
I’m Tony Wolff. Maybe someone more technical than me can help me figure out how to get my name on my posts.
In an alternate reality, I ran what many considered to be a highly successful marketing consulting company. I had the good fortune to retire early and to study yoga and meditation. But like so many hyperactive insecure Jewish kids, I always secretly wanted to be a stand up comedian. And while I never got there, I’ve always found self deprecating humor to be a Godsend. With a tendency to get lost in my own angst, I thank the universe for granting me the gift of once in a while, not taking myself (or life ) quite so seriously.
Always a bit ahead of my time, I found myself at the short end of a pre-Madoff Ponzi scheme. Suffice it to say that I’ve had the good fortune to learn that the cliche is true: money isn’t everything. I used to “believe” that, but that was from the vantage point of material well being. Now, each day I can be miserable or happy, but I can’t change what happened or is happening. But I don’t want to get too new-agey on you. After all it is amazing that knowing this, I still choose misery quite often. Maybe it’s genetic!!!
June 22, 2009 at 8:54 pm |
You know me! Papa, can you hear me? (Tony, you must be my Papa- no one else knows me like you do.) Papa, can you see me?
I am currently unemployed. To fully understand my situation, let us travel back a year and a half to Dec/07 – Jan/08. On Dec 17th I develop my fourth kidney stone in two years. It is the world’s biggest stone, which in my mind measures approximately the size of Jupiter. I close my company on the 31st.
My doctor schedules my 2nd kidney surgery (yes, surgery, not lithotripsy or snaking up my schlong). It is called a left percutaneous nephrolithotomy. By now, you should be impressed with my ability to differentiate between a left one and a right one.
Prior to surgery, and to relieve the pressure, I have a catheter-like tube routing my urine from my left kidney through a hole in my back, down my leg into a pee bag. Imagine, being a Chef in the middle of catering an event when your bag falls off.
Anyway, I am not disabled for the next month; I am disabled for the next six months. Although I can’t prove it, it is suspected that I developed my antibiotic resistant staph infection while lazing away at Kaiser. A Chef cannot work with food if large boil-like sores, highly contagious, are covering various body parts. I apply for Food Stamps, a new and not so exhilirating experience. Mama would be horrified. “I don’t believe that parents should help out their children” she says. So I sit in government offices listening to ex cons talk about life on the streets. Good News! I have so little money and assets that I qualify for a program that allows you to eat on less than $5 daily! Thank you God!
I become un-disabled; get work for a non-profit that receives most of its income from the “We-politicians-see-no-hurry-to-agree-upon-a-state-budget” State of California. I am, along with many others, laid off (after six months).
I take a job consulting with a restaurant. It paid well until the owner ran out of money. This was only a couple of weeks ago when he pulled me aside and said that he didn’t have enough money to pay me.
On my birthday, my 52nd, thank God, I deposit a $25 check from my Alzheimer’s Mom. (It must be Alzheimer’s because she forgot to put the extra 0′s on the check.) On the same day, I drop or leave my ATM card in the machine and someone charges more to my account than my balance, leaving me with bank charges and less than $50 in my checking account, money that was going to see me through the recession…or at least fifty MacDonald’s dollar items, excluding tax.
To make matters worse, yesterday I show up at one of our local Farmer’s Markets, in order to purchase fresh, cheap food. Of course, I showed up on the wrong day and arrived on Flea Market day. Well, anyone who knows me knows that I don’t eat fleas.
I have applied for unemployment but would rather work. I’m exceptionally good at annoying others, have great skills from cooking and catering, writing (Restaurant Critic for six years) to napping.
I really need positive affirmation. I need money. I need health insurance (imagine having Crohn’s Disease for 33 years and chronic kidney stones without insurance). I need to travel to the South of France, partaking in their summer evening’s Farmer’s Markets. I would like a year’s supply of lox, cream cheese and bagels (I’ll supply tomato, onion and capers).
Thanks
Scott Sachs
PS: my legs hurt, too.
June 24, 2009 at 9:42 pm |
Hi scott
terrible when circumstances beyond your control leave you in the lurch. Guess all that’s left is attitude. That’s the only thing we can control. But just so you don’t think I walk around in flowing robes with a comment like that, I’m also amazed at how often I choose to be miserable, even though being happy feels much better.
Tell your friends, or if you don’t know any, send it out into cyberspace….I did!
December 17, 2009 at 8:50 am |
Very informative posts and stories here. Much appreciated!