Unemployed

Like every third journalist in the U.S., I'm out of work. Yeah, I know I've only been in Denver one week, but I did four months of pre-move job scounting, only to hear "hiring freeze" and "layoffs" and "Even the rats moved to Del Boca Vista."

And it isn't just weirdo specialty journalists, such as yours truly. Many big names at big books are taking early retirement, or sabbaticals to write books, or sending out clips to other pubs in quiet panic.

Broadcasters aren't exactly nyah-nyahing at the print journos, either: entry-level TV and radio jobs are drying up, forcing anchors and long-time news jocks to wear more hats and take home less pay.

As for online media, well, the writers are never the ones making money from that, anyway. Blogs will go the way of 'zines, probably sooner rather than later. So there will be even more unemployed people who report and write for a living.

Useless? Nah! Some enterprising media mogul will simply collect the wayward journalists into a copy factory and reap profits off the ads revenue attached to the output. More or less the way things are now, just free of the problems with celebrity writers and nasty, adolescent bloggers.

In other words, this is a bad time to be a reporter. The only job with any future at the moment is that of tech entrepreneur. Those two goofy guys from Google? Yep.

Not a bad time to be me, however. Life is good. I'll wait out this bust in the job market and do whatever work I can find. You never know where you'll make the right contact or recognize and seize the right opportunity.

For now, I'll keep searching the job boards and annoying my contacts, while enjoying the incredible view from my new patio and sipping another cup of Chock Full O' Joblessness.