Unemployed in America

As of 10:06 a.m., EST, Aug. 11, 2011, I became a statistical casualty in the ongoing Great Recession, which supposedly ended a year ago September.

On that day, a Department of Labor Bureau of Labor Statistics report stated that 13.9 million people were without work, 9.1 percent of the workforce. But who's counting?

While the rest of the economy has seen signs of modest recovery, the journalism industry, in which I have toiled in the trenches for more than 25 years, has not.

The powerhouses of mainstream print have all seen huge declines in revenue over the past few years, with stock prices plummeting in double digits.

Still in freefall, my former company, Gannett Co. Inc., (slogan: "It's all within reach")ordered my former newspaper, Florida Today, to slash its newsroom payroll by a "large amount," as our executive editor so eloquently put it. He restructured the newsroom, cutting it from 78 to 57 staff positions. About a quarter of the staff.

Then we all had to apply for the remaining jobs.

It was hell. But it's over.

I was one of the fortunate ones offered a job, basically the same job I already had. I thought, WTF? How could I work for a corporation that treats its employees this badly, and still give multi-million dollar benefits and buyout options to the top execs who are running this company into the ground?

I turned them down.

My David Allan Coe moment wasn't some dramatic, "Take this job and shove it," kind of statement. I was quiet, professional and courteous. I thanked them for offering me my job, told them it made me feel like they appreciated my work, but I had to respectfully decline.

I almost wavered. But as I looked into the eyes of the man who would be my new supervisor and the shit-brown mustache crinkling above his lips, my resolve became tensile. I said no thank you.

The other editor asked if I was kidding. I told him I'd given it a lot of thought, but I had to move on and try other things while I had the chance. I have no kids, no mortgage, no car payments, no worries. Someone in that office with a spouse and kids would be in worse shape without a job than I.

I didn't tell him that the corporate environment was sucking me dry or that I just had too much outrage with the way the economic mess was being handled that I couldn't sit by another moment without saying something.

They both wished me luck, and I wished them the same. They then had to do some quick-footed scurrying around as the dominoes started tumbling to rearrange the deck chairs on the sinking ship before the next victim stepped into the office.

My decision saved someone their job, but it put me on the unemployment line. I'll register with the unemployment office, receive a generous termination package for the next three months or until I find another full-time job.

Meanwhile, the posts from my friends on Facebook have been nothing but positive, if a little surprised. They know how much I love what I do, holding government agencies accountable, putting public officials through the ringer to keep them accountable.

To some, I'm an anti-establishment folk hero, sticking it to Big Media. To others, I'm a free-spirit, an iconoclast shedding my worsted-wool, hand-stitched corporate skin. There is truth to both views, but I see it more as a self-rescue mission to restore my own sanity, spirit and soul and to make a huge course correction in my life that will get me back to the passion I once had.

Peace.