Landed a Permanent Job

When I left my last permanent job last May, I had contract jobs through the summer, until in August, I landed a contract-to-permanent opportunity at a startup. I was supposed to contract for three months, and then get converted to permanent status. Unfortunately, in November, the company was not in a financial position to hire me permanently, so they renewed my contract for another three months. In January of this year, they went out of business.

I got a week's heads-up that my contract was ending. I updated my resumes on LinkedIn, Dice and Career Builder. I took down and deleted by account on Monster.com because the laziest, sloppiest recruiters troll there. Four business days after the company I worked for went out of business, I had three permanent offers and a contract-to-permanent offer from the company that bought the intellectual property of the company that went out of business.

One company that made me a permanent offer was willing to pay me the same as I earned last time I had a permanent job, but I wasn't very interested in what they were doing, or the technologies they were using. One company was offering me more than a third more than my previous salary, but I was worried that I would have to travel too much, since I am working on getting another dog, and as as the Worshipful Master of a lodge, I need to stay in the area at least when my lodge opens. The third company seemed like they were hiring in a panic. They were annoyed by my insistence on low travel, and finally, the CEO of the company called me personally, and kept jacking up the salary until it was nearly double my last permanent salary. That much panic is unattractive, and so I turned them down and went with the contract-to-permanent offer, in the hope that once I was in the door, I could possibly jockey my way back to my old project.

I was working on health insurance software, a new product that they were launching. The product was very popular, and they did not have enough internal resources to handle implementations of all the new sales. So they hired an army of contractors, gave us minimal training and sent all of us out in the field after a few weeks on the job. I was on a client site after ten business days on the job. The following week, they flew me out to the West Coast to a client site. I was supposed to lead discussions about the technology behind their product, but I did not feel prepared, and was criticized by a supervisor for not knowing enough about the product. A recruiter called me that week, and I realized that I wanted out. I called her back during a lunch break.

On the following Monday, when I got back to the office, the head of the project criticized by performance and threatened to fire me if I didn't do a better job on a different client site that week, where again I was supposed to be the tech lead on implementation discussions. I went back to my desk, turned my Dice and Career Builder profiles back on, called every recruiter I had worked with previously, and called one of the companies that had made a previous offer in January.

Last Tuesday, I had an offer letter for a permanent job as an implementation engineer with a local software company, making a physician's point-of-entry system, with zero travel. I think this might be the first time that I was hired out of an unsuitable job by a better job. It feels pretty good. I offered the old company two weeks notice, and their response was to have someone meet me at my cubicle, take my pass, and escort me off the premises. So be it. I found out later in the week that the company fired people on my project right after I left, so I most likely dodged a bullet. I start my new job this coming Wednesday.

I learned something about my tastes as well. I love working on the hospital/clinic/lab side, because I get to feel like I'm helping to heal people. I don't really like working on the insurance company side, because too often I feel like I'm denying people the care they need. Also, the medical systems are the same all over the world, but insurance systems in the USA are unique to us because our insurance systems are more complicated and stupid than those of the rest of the world. Being an expert in medical insurance in the USA pretty much kills any chance of foreign travel.

A few notes about how to land a job quickly: time is not on your side. If you haven't worked in three months, you become less attractive to employers and recruiters. This is unfair but definitely the case. If you haven't worked in six months, you drop out of consideration. Unfair, but true.

Use LinkedIn. Keep your profile up to date, and fiddle with it weekly so that it stays new. On any job, if you are willing to have a drink with a co-worker outside of work, they should be a LinkedIn contact. If you know you are leaving a company, request to contact every person there that you respect. Do not request via LinkedIn. Do it in person, over the telephone, or by email. LinkedIn punishes you if your request is denied. Know in advance that your request will be approved.

Dice and Career Builder are good resources for recruiters to locate you. Create resumes that are loaded with keywords the recruiters are searching for, and edit them weekly. For example, I work with HL7, X12, XML, a few different integration engines, and I am comfortable with Ubuntu Linux, bash scripting, Perl, Ruby, and JavaScript (which is used as a glue language in integration engines). I list every technology I have used at work, with a few exceptions. I don't list SQL even though I know basic SQL queries. If you list SQL, they expect that you are a competent database architect, which I am not. I also list every major project I have worked on, and how my work on that project added value. I list everything I've been the lead on.

There are call centers in India filled with employees who Google every term that an employer is looking for in a job description, and call everyone who matches their search. So you will get a lot of calls from people with Indian accents who have either Indian or Muslim names who will call at all hours and launch a memorized sales pitch. If you interrupt them, they lose their place and you can weed them out. Their jobs are almost never a match. If a company wants someone to move to Lansing, MI for a three-month contract position, they will get an Indian call center to scatter-shot their search across the USA. It doesn't matter if you don't want to move to Lansing for three months. It doesn't matter if your profile says maximum 25% travel, or no relocation. The best thing to do is to interrupt them, demand your requirements, and if they cannot deliver, hang up.

It is a serious mistake to reject anyone with an Indian or Pakistani name, since it is bigoted and because IT in the USA has a large representation of people from the Indian Subcontinent. But the call center people tip their hand pretty quickly, and should be weeded out.

That being said, I get cold calls all the time that match my skill set and are viable options. Right now, in IT, and especially healthcare IT, there is a shortage of skilled professionals, and there are a lot of opportunities out there. If you are in IT but not in healthcare IT, it might be worth checking out the field.

New Job Again

The company I was working for went out of business last Thursday. I got word that Monday that it was my last week, without giving the reason why. I started looking that evening. On Thursday, the CEO called us all into a conference room and told us that that day would be our last day; that the company was shutting down.

I was able to find a contract-to-permanent job in the same building with another company that my company was intending to work with on a software project. I had an interview Tuesday morning, and was approved the next day. Yesterday I filled out the paperwork, and I start on February 6th. It took me four business days to find a new job, which isn't bad. I actually received three other permanent offers, one of which was exceedingly generous, but I want to work for the company I chose, doing the work I find most interesting. It will be lean for me until work resumes, but I'm actually getting a slight raise from my last job. I'm very pleased about this turn of events.

Working again; Valley of Guthrie, AASR SJ.

I was hired nearly two weeks ago by a nearby hospital to help them communicate with other hospitals. More medical IT work. The commute is longer, but it is a reverse commute (rush hour going in the other direction). I was unemployed for 3½ weeks this time, down considerably from the 3 months the last two times I was out of work. I am grateful to Providence for such swift relief.

I'm surprised I forgot to mention my adventure back in April, so I will mention it now. In the first weekend in April, I and three friends from the Valley of Boston in the Ancient & Accepted Scottish Rite, Northern Masonic Jurisdiction, responded to an invitation to visit the Valley of Guthrie, in the Orient of Oklahoma, Ancient & Accepted Scottish Rite, Southern Jurisdiction for their Spring Reunion. Every Spring, the Valley of Guthrie convenes in their beautiful Scottish Rite Temple, and confers all of the Scottish Rite degrees, from the 4° through the 32°, in a long weekend, from Friday through Sunday. You will recall that in previous posts, I had rhetorically offered to turn in my 32° Pocket Jewel until I had attended all the degrees up to and including it. I can now wear my jewel with pride, knowing that I have earned my title of Sublime Prince of the Royal Secret.

This adventure deserves more description than I can offer today, so I will write a future blog post describing my visit to the Valley of Guthrie. I should mention that I petitioned for membership, and received it, so I am now a dual member of the Valley of Guthrie. It gives me great pleasure to be a member of both obediences, that of the Northern Masonic Jurisdiction, and of the Southern Jurisdiction, the Mother Jurisdiction of the Ancient and Accepted Scottish Rite of Freemasonry.

UPDATE June 28th, 2011: The project I was working on has been indefinitely postponed, so I am unemployed again. Easy come, easy go. Back to job hunting.

The World is on Fire

I am going to present a metaphor, a mixed metaphor. It's going to be a mixture of two images that have never been brought together before. One is ancient and one is modern. Only when the two are brought together does it describe my current state, a state I've been in somewhat latently for a while, and acutely since I lost my job.

When I visited Norway last year, I visited a Jewish community that met once a month, led by a very bright Israeli man. We prayed and worshiped together, and afterwards, he presented a Torah lesson for us. To a religious Jew, Torah can mean any religious study. My host's Torah lesson was from Bereshit Rabbah, the ancient Rabbinic commentary on the Book of Genesis (called Sefer Bereshit in Hebrew, after the first word in the book "in the beginning", which is one word in Hebrew). The five books of Moses, which are most commonly referred to as "The Torah", are partitioned into 54 weekly portions, following the Hebrew Calendar. The third portion is called Lech Lecha, (לֶךְ-לְךָ ), which means "Go!" or "Leave!" but because it is repeated, the Hasidic rabbis interpret it to mean "Go, go away towards yourself." I favor this psychoanalytic interpretation, and I will use it in what follows.

Lech Lecha is Genesis 12:1 to 17:27. The previous portion, Noach, is the story of Noah and the flood, and the Tower of Babel, and ends with the story of Terah, the father of Abraham. They lived in Ur, one of the greatest cities of the ancient world, in Sumeria. Genesis 11:31 tells us: "And Terah took Abram [later Abraham] his son, and Lot the son of Haran his son's son, and Sarai [later Sarah] his daughter in law, his son Abram's wife; and they went forth with them from Ur of the Chaldees, to go into the land of Canaan; and they came unto Haran, and dwelt there."

Ḥaran was an Assyrian city in Turkey, pretty far away from Mesopotamia. In the ancient world, few people had traveled that far in their lives. Terah was going from one civilization to another. But this is not sufficient for the Lord, nor for Abram. Lech Lecha begins (Genesis 12: 1-3): "Now the LORD had said unto Abram, Get thee out of thy country, and from thy kindred, and from thy father's house, unto a land that I will shew thee: And I will make of thee a great nation, and I will bless thee, and make thy name great; and thou shalt be a blessing: And I will bless them that bless thee, and curse him that curseth thee: and in thee shall all families of the earth be blessed."

God leads Abram and Sarai and Lot to Canaan, renames Abram as Abraham, and provides him with the Covenant. The destiny of all of the Abrahamic Faiths is distinguished in this, and it cannot be emphasized more highly as a pivotal moment in the history of religion, and the invention of Semitic monotheism.

The section of Bereshit Rabbah pertaining to Lech Lecha begins by asking why Abram had to leave his father and his father's house, and set out on his own. Rabbi Isaac, by way of an explanation, relates a parable:

There is a man, a traveling man. He travels through cities, and he travels through forests. He travels through deserts and great wildernesses. He comes upon a city (or it could be translated as a palace) on fire. He enters the burning city, and looking around,  he cries out, "Is there no owner, no master of this city?" From a burning balcony, a man appears, and calmly states, "I am the owner. I am the master of this city."

Similarly, Rabbi Isaac tells us, Abraham cried out, "Is it possible that this world is without a guide?" and God replied to Abraham, "I am the Guide, the Master of Universe."

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This left me and the other guests pretty baffled. We spent about ninety minutes discussing what the parable could mean, and left somewhat unconfirmed that we understood it. Why didn't the owner try to escape from the flames and save himself? How could he be the master if he couldn't or wouldn't put out the fire? Was the fire part of the master's plan, or the catastrophe it certainly appeared to be, or both?

And yet, like much of Torah, I could not drop the issue. I struggled with the parable, taking it out now and then to ponder further, not making much resolution with it, but engrossed nonetheless.

Six months later, my synagogue was reading Lech Lecha aloud as our weekly Torah portion. After services, during the Kiddush, I was in a conversation with my rabbi's husband, himself a rabbi who trains rabbis at a rabbinical school. I brought up the parable from Bereshit Rabbah, and asked him what it meant. With a smile, he told me that, like so much of Jewish religious literature, much hinges on how we translate the words. The word in Hebrew that gets translated as "on fire" can also be translated as "illuminated", with the connotation of the beauty inherent in illumination. Let's try Rabbi Isaac's parable again, with this new translation:

There is a man, a traveling man. He travels through cities, and he travels through forests. He travels through deserts and great wildernesses. He comes upon a city (or it could be translated as a palace) beautifully illuminated. He enters the glowing city, and looking around,  he cries out, "Is there no owner, no master of this city?" From a balcony, beautifully lit up, a man appears, and calmly states, "I am the owner. I am the master of this city."

Similarly, Rabbi Isaac tells us, Abraham cried out, "Is it possible that this world is without a guide?" and God replied to Abraham, "I am the Guide, the Master of Universe." 

Totally changes the meaning, don't you think?

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The rabbi warned me, however. If you just interpret the parable to be a city on fire, you only understand the parable but partially. If you just interpret the parable to be a glowing, illuminated city, you only understand the parable but partially. To fully understand the parable, you have to superimpose both interpretations onto the story. The city is burning out of control in a destructive blaze, and is simultaneously glowing with a beatific glow of illumination. Both interpretations are simultaneously true. The world is spiraling out of control in a chaotic blaze, and the world is a breathtakingly beautiful precious gem, scintillating in your palm in peace and calmness. Both are always true all the time. And God is the Master of it all. And Abraham was the first man to recognize this.

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The second image comes from an Amiri Baraka poem, I believe, although it has been twenty years since the first and only time I heard it. I'm sure my gentle readers will correct me about the source of the poem if I am mistaken.

Ornette Coleman is a jazz saxophonist, an avant garde composer and stylist who shocked the jazz community when he first appeared in the late 1950s with his free jazz style. He moved to Los Angeles from Fort Worth, Texas, and he was so poor that he could not afford a brass saxophone. Instead, he played a plastic saxophone. His sound was so strange, and his appearance so ragged, that nobody in the LA jazz community thought he was legitimate. To them, his plastic saxophone just added insult to injury, and nobody would play with him. During the day, he worked in a warehouse, often taking the elevator to an abandoned floor so that he could practice playing sax for hours. He lived in Watts, and after a while, he got gigs in Hollywood, playing in front of a mainly white audience who regarded him as a novelty. He was so poor that he would walk home from gigs, all the way from Hollywood to Watts.

He was walking home from a Hollywood gig with his plastic saxophone when the 1965 Watts riots erupted. Baraka's poem describes Ornette's long odyssey from Hollywood back to his home in Watts, guarding his plastic saxophone as his neighborhood erupts in flame and rage all around him, policemen swinging truncheons, shop windows shattering, cars and buildings on fire all around him, returning to his squalid digs and his poor, destroyed neighborhood.

I lost my job. My last day is next Friday. I feel a song, a theme, a vision in my heart, a world-shattering paradigm about to erupt in chaos out of my heart and fingers and voice. But to my colleagues in my industry, I'm an strange guy with a plastic saxophone making sounds nobody understands. Each day, I walk home from my fish-out-of-water gig through a city on fire, burning, but also a city beautifully illuminated, glowing, magical. With a throbbing heart, I see this beautiful, horrible, magnificent, tragic city all around me and I ask, "Is there no owner, is there no Master of this city?" and I strain to hear the Master's reply.

Job Hunting Again; My Dog Passes Away

I return to the corn portion of this blog, as my current job ends on May 13th, and I am now in very acute job-hunting mode. I have been at this current job since February of last year. I work in healthcare IT, and I get contacted by recruiters fairly often, including cold calls. I'm not too worried about my long term future, but I am taking the short term very seriously, and I am very eager to find an arrangement as soon as possible, be it temporary or permanent.

My remarkable Mastiff dog died eleven days ago, at the age of 9½. Those of you who know me know that I was absolutely devoted to him, and I am very heartbroken that he is gone. My dog, Hagrid, was a rescue. He was thrown out of his original home for showing signs of defensive aggression, where he was overprotective of the baby in the home. I found out the details when I adopted him. The family did not give him sufficient obedience training, and by the time he was a year old, he was very big (he was 205 lbs at death) and very headstrong and stubborn. They had a baby when he was a year old, and without external guidance, he took it upon himself to guard the baby at all costs. He would sleep outside the baby's door, with his nose jammed in the crack of the door so that he could smell her all night, with his paws pushed up against the inward-opening door to make sure that nobody got in. If anyone besides the parents walked down the corridor, he would bare his teeth and growl at them. There was one neighbor whom he never really liked, and after the baby was born, he would refuse to let the neighbor into the house. The family decided that he was excessively aggressive, and surrendered him to a Mastiff rescue. The dog was profoundly insulted and hurt to be rejected for doing what he thought was his job.

The woman who ran the Mastiff rescue was a 19 year old single mom with three kids, four cats, and eight Mastiffs running around a 30-acre farm in West Virginia. She had recently divorced, and had moved in with her father on his farm, and he had issued an ultimatum that she and the dogs had to leave. She was frantically placing all the dogs, except for my dog, whom she wanted to keep. She sent me his picture in case she had to give him up with the others, and I fell in love right away. It took me six weeks to convince her to give me the dog, and she ended up driving him to me in North Carolina herself. He was a year and a half old.

It took the dog, whom I renamed Hagrid, a while to realize that I was his forever owner and friend. I got him started on obedience training right away, and in three months, he received his Canine Good Citizen award from the American Kennel Club, and two months after that was a certified Therapy Dog through Therapy Dogs International. We worked with kids with Downs Syndrome, with emotionally disturbed girls at a residential facility, and we once worked with a severely burned child from the Shriners' Burn Hospital in Boston. I think he loved the Downs kids the best. Whenever he met a person with Downs Syndrome, his attitude would change and he would become very gentle and focused. He adored the kids he worked with, and I was very proud to show him off to others.

He followed me as I moved from North Carolina to Virginia, and from Virginia to Massachusetts, and we made friends wherever we went together. He was the big Totoro, the Chewbacca to my Han Solo, the Harvey to my Ellwood P. Dowd, the greatest wingman I've ever had. In North Carolina, you can go bar-hopping with your dog, and he was a regular at the Orange County Social Club in Carrboro. He was a big hit at the Grand Master's Fair in Charlton, MA, when I took him in 2009. When I moved in 2009, I deliberately moved to an apartment on the first floor, with only three front steps, as he was getting too old to climb several flights of stairs. Mastiffs live typically from six to eight years. Hagrid lived longer than I ever expected, and I was warned by other Mastiff owners that they decline very rapidly when it is their time to go. Hagrid fell apart over about a week, and had to be euthanized.

It's strange watching my daily routines change as I no longer have to feed and water him, and walk him. I don't have to shut the door to my bedroom to keep him from climbing into my bed and trashing it with hair and drool. I don't have to shut the bathroom door to keep him from sleeping in the bathtub or drinking out of the toilet. I don't have to put chairs on the couch to keep him from sleeping on the couch. But I miss him terribly, and I probably will for a very long time.

Rest in peace, Hagrid. You were as good a dog as you could possibly be, and I am awed by your life of service and generosity. I never really deserved a dog as magnificent as you, and I did everything I could to make myself worthy of you, until your last breath.

Back to work

After three months out of work, I have a new full-time permanent job as an implementation engineer for a medical software company. I have leads that I've been following for months, but this opportunity came with a phone call last Wednesday, an interview on Thursday, and an acceptance call on the ride home from the interview. I completed the paperwork yesterday. I'm very pleased.

I'm the Massachusetts 3rd District Deputy Junior Grand Warden, and we have Fraternal Visits starting this Friday, and my job has a fair amount of travel, but I'm sure I'll work it out to everyone's advantage.

I went to a Table Lodge last Saturday at the neighboring 4th District, and had a very enjoyable time. I noticed that the ritual that was used was closer to the Scottish Rite EA degree than the mainstream York Rite blue lodge degree.

Nebraska, Hawaii, Montana, Alaska, North Dakota

Five more states and my Flag Counter will be full. If there are any Freemasons, Jews, job-hunters, or people interested in these things in Nebraska, Hawaii, Montana, Alaska, or North Dakota, please visit this site. I know that it's a bit cheap to solicit visits this way, but please indulge me.

I have a job

I agreed to start work for a hospital network as a contract employee. I have a 6-8 month contract, but the other people from my staffing agency who work there have all had their contracts renewed, or have been subsequently hired permanently by the company. The pay is hourly, and is very generous. I start work at the end of the month. The position is primarily project management, with some QA testing thrown in for good measure. I am very pleased.

Last night my lodge conducted some serious business, about which I am obligated to keep silent. After it was concluded, we all went to an Italian restaurant for pizza and beer. I submitted to the lodge secretary the paperwork for the Master Mason Rookie award, and I gave the Worshipful Master of the local Lodge of Instruction a rough draft of a paper I will submit along with the talk I give in May at the Lodge of Instruction on the 47th Problem of Euclid. It's fun to spend time with the brothers in a more festive setting. While the festive boards at my lodge are very enjoyable, it was a real treat to meet outside of lodge for food and drink. I had to leave early because I had a job interview this morning for three hours, from 9 AM until noon. While I ended up choosing another position, I enjoyed the interview very much. The job I interviewed for today would have been my fall-back plan had the job I chose not come through for me. For the rest of the weekend, I intend to relax and celebrate my new job.

Lodge of Perfection is not hyperbole

Update since my last post: The Monday job interview had five people show up at the recruiter's office to meet the hiring manager. I believe I was the second person to interview. When I got home, the recruiter called me, and told me that they wanted me to come back for a second interview. The Tuesday job interview had five people at the company interviewing me in a conference room for an hour. The next day, the woman at the staffing office handling my case called me and told me that they really liked me, they felt that my skill set really matched the skill set needed for the job, and arranged a half-hour third interview for next Tuesday with the person who is the boss of the person who would be my boss if I got the job. It's a very positive step, and I'm very excited.

The quarterly Grand Communication was tremendously exciting for me. It's funny because a lot of senior brothers warned me that Grand Communication is just a big business meeting, and not to project too much expectation upon it, but my personal experience was richly rewarding. How can I explain this to people for whom this is totally outside of their experience? Every masonic lodge in Massachusetts is asked to send at least one representative, but the Worshipful Master, the Junior and Senior Wardens are requested to attend, and if they cannot, the Worshipful Master may assign a Proxy to attend instead of any of these brothers. There are between 200 and 300 masonic lodges in Massachusetts, 30+ districts each with their own District Deputy Grand Master, and a Grand Lodge with all the officers a Blue Lodge has, and a bunch of extra officers, like the Grand Pursuivant and the Grand Sword Bearer. There are four Grand Chaplains, two Grand Musicians, and all the living Past Grand Masters attend. The Active Members of the Scottish Rite, the leader of the York Rite bodies, and Grand Representatives of a myriad of other Grand Lodges are all there. The Grand Lodge room is an enormous lodge room, with a large balcony for extended seating. The ritual is crisp and flawless, and the Grand Master was an exquisite host who held the room the entire time he sat in the East. For little old me to sit among these distinguished gentlemen was tremendously exciting.

One man earned a 50-year medal for being a mason for 50 years. Another man won an award for having been made the Worshipful Master of his lodge 50 years ago. The Grand Organist, who happens to be the organist for my lodge (although ours is not his mother lodge) won the Joseph Warren medal for a lifetime of service to blue lodges, the Grand Lodge, and Scottish Rite. He is a wonderful man, and a friend, and I was delighted to congratulate him. The District Deputy Grand Master of my district, whom I've blogged about before, is also the Worshipful Master of a lodge in my district, and many of their brothers were there, and I sat with them, not finding anyone from my lodge. Incidentally, it was the mother lodge of the Grand Organist. Afterwards, I got to shake hands with the Grand Master, and, with the brothers I sat with, we met in a conference room for snacks and refreshments. It turns out that one of the brothers I met there I had met eleven years ago on tour with a rock band back when I used to be a roadie. He's now a luthier. These brothers were very hospitable to me, and it will be my great pleasure to visit their lodge at the next opportunity.

Tonight was a delight. The Boston-Lafayette Lodge of Perfection, in the Valley of Boston, hosted a dinner before their rehearsal for the upcoming one-day class the Scottish Rite is holding in April. While this was, in some sense, a sales pitch for the Lodge of Perfection, they were so delightful about it, and so brotherly, that it was an unmitigated pleasure to attend. There was a three-course meal, and it was my fortune to sit at the same table as the Thrice-Potent Master. The Chicken Cordon Bleu looked delicious, but as it wasn't kosher, I ate the filet of sole instead. There was a salad, baked potatoes, and an exquisite chocolate ganache cake. Then we toured the various places where the rehearsal for degree work was taking place: the makeup and costume area, the lighting board, the sound board, and finally, we were invited onstage to participate with the actors in the rehearsal. Afterwards, we were invited upstairs to the lounge area of the Lodge of Perfection for refreshments and conversation. The brothers of the Lodge of Perfection have been so friendly and genial that I cannot help but feel great affection not only towards them, but towards the Lodge of Perfection as a body. It is a wrench for me that they meet on Thursdays, and both my blue lodge and Lodge of Instruction both meet on Thursdays. That will mitigate how much I can contribute to this body, which is a shame. I would love to contribute to their endeavors to whatever extent I can, without sacrificing my commitment to my blue lodge, and without weakening my contribution to Lodge of Instruction.

I would be equally delighted if the other bodies of Scottish Rite in the Valley of Boston extended the same hospitality to me, and I await any future gestures of friendship and hospitality on their parts.

It is important to remind my readers that a mason's central commitment is to his blue lodge, and whatever he can contribute to the appendant bodies should be after he has exhausted his basic obligations to his blue lodge.

My business suit is getting a workout

I had another job interview today at a recruiter's office. This was a new experience for me. Five candidates were interviewed by the employer in the recruiter's office. I was second or third. When I got home, they called me and told me that the employer wanted to give me a second interview. They also told me that at least one other candidate was also called back for another interview.

Tomorrow, I have a second interview with a health care company for a contract position. While it's only for 6-8 months, there's opportunity for the contract to be extended, or to get a permanent position with the company. The office is the next town over from mine, the pay will probably be very generous, and the corporate culture seems very livable and pleasant.

Wednesday is the Grand Lodge of Massachusetts' Grand Communication. I'm going by special permission of the leadership of my lodge. A disclaimer: any masonic awards I'm working on I will earn at the will of the Worshipful Master of my lodge, and at the will of the Grand Lodge. Even if I complete every requirement, it is up to the Worshipful Master of my lodge as to whether or not he will approve me for the award, and then up to Grand Lodge as to whether they will award me the award.

That said, the Grand Lodge of Massachusetts has a new award this year called the Master Mason Rookie Award (warning: link is a PDF file). I've completed every item on the list except two (#7 and #12), and the item I will discuss is an optional substitute for any one item on the list.

The Master Mason Rookie Award is only available to a mason for the first year after he is raised. I was raised in June, 2008, so I have until June, 2009 to complete the items on the list. I like this award, and think it's an excellent idea. The candidate for the award must complete a list of tasks:

1. Attend each of the blue lodge degrees at least once.
2. Attend at least one visit of the lodge’s District Deputy Grand Master to another lodge in the district OR attend a communication of another lodge in the district.
3. Attend at least seven stated lodge communications over the course of the one year.
4. Work on at least one lodge social activity OR lodge charitable event.
5. Sponsor at least one candidate into the lodge.
6. Attend one Masonic Funeral.
7. Serve on one investigation committee.
8. Assist at least once with the preparation of candidates.
9. Assist at least once with the officers setting up of the lodge room.
10. Attend at least three additional Lodge of Instruction communications beyond what is required.
11. Attend one meeting of the Building/Temple Association.
12. (Alternate requirement that can be done in lieu of not completing one of the first 11) Attend at least 1 Quarterly Communication of Grand Lodge or the Feast of Saint John.

I've wanted to see a Grand Communication since I first visited the Grand Lodge of Massachusetts building, but my lodge has allowed me to be a proxy for my lodge at the Grand Communication to help me complete the Master Mason Rookie Award requirements. After Wednesday, I can submit the paperwork for the award. I've learned an enormous amount about masonry in completing the tasks. I found out about the award months after I was raised, and it turned out that I had already completed a few of the items on the list, so it just seemed natural to continue to complete them all.

I think this award is a brilliant way to revitalize Freemasonry. While it's not a panacea, it inspires new masons, in their first year, to participate in so many different aspects of being a mason that they might otherwise not know about. The kind of mason who would earn this award is the kind of mason who would do these things anyway, with or without the award, but the award gives some structure, and lets a new mason know that such experiences exist. One would hope that this journey would inspire them to participate more in their lodge, to become good officer material someday, and to be well-educated masons who have depth and range in their Freemasonry.

And finally, on Thursday, Boston Lafayette Lodge of Perfection, in the Ancient Accepted Scottish Rite Valley of Boston, is having a dinner, and I am attending. There will be another Scottish Rite one-day class on April 4th, and I want to take the degrees I haven't yet taken, and participate in ritual. Unfortunately, Lodge of Perfection rehearses the same day that my blue lodge meets, so for now, I'll have to settle for just attending the dinner this week.

That means my business suit will be worn four days in a row without time to dry clean it in the middle. Here's hoping it holds up, and here's holding that I hold up, too.

Oh, and tonight is Purim. Chag sameach, everyone. I drove my friend to synagogue, and they read the megillah out loud in Hebrew, and it was very raucous and fun. I found a wolf mask in my trunk that my students gave me when I taught at a boarding school a few years ago. The kids were all jacked up on white sugar, and the adults were drunk, but a good time was had by all. My friend is a widow in an assisted living facility, and she sometimes has trouble getting to synagogue, so I drive her whenever I can. I really enjoy her company, and it's no trouble to help her out. It would not be appropriate to dress in costume for my job interview, but I'd like to perform the mitzvah of mishloach manot if I can (the only Purim mitzvah I haven't done yet). Maybe I'll bring Dunkin' Donuts to my girlfriend's work tomorrow.

An explanation of the title of this blog

This blog is entitled "Corn, Wine and Oil." The Sh'ma prayer, which religious Jews recite twice daily, includes the following line from Deuteronomy 11:14:

וְנָתַתִּי מְטַר־אַרְצְכֶם בְּעִתּוֹ יוֹרֶה וּמַלְקוֹשׁ וְאָסַפְתָּ דְגָנֶךָ וְתִירֹשְׁךָ וְיִצְהָרֶךָ׃

Which the King James Bible translates as: "that I will give you the rain of your land in his due season, the first rain and the latter rain, that thou mayest gather in thy corn, and thy wine, and thine oil."

The Sh'ma prayer is the cornerstone of the Jewish religion. The initial line, Deuteronomy 6:4, is the fundamental testament of faith. The King James Bible translates it as "Hear, O Israel: The LORD our God is one LORD:". Traditionally, it is supposed to be the last sentence a Jew utters before he dies. Rabbi Akiva was tortured to death by the Romans, and uttered the line just before he expired. It's not unusual for religious Jews in immediate mortal peril to recite the line.

In operative masonry, the wages of a mason were, in antiquity, given in corn (actually grain), wine and oil. When Freemasonry came into being, and masonry went from being operative to speculative, corn, wine and oil became symbolic wages.
Albert Mackey, 33°, in his Encyclopedia of Freemasonry, suggests that corn represents the Staff of Life: " In processions, the corn alone is carried in a golden pitcher, the wine and oil are placed in silver vessels, and this is to remind us that the first, as a necessity and the "staff of life" is of more importance and more worthy of honor than the others, which are but comforts.", the grain flour that becomes our daily bread.
Wine is "a symbol of the inward refreshment of a good conscience is intended, under the name of the Wine of Refreshment, to remind us of the eternal refreshments which the good are to receive in the future life for the faithful performance of duty in the present."
Oil is the Oil of Anointment. "The Hebrews anointed their Kings, Prophets and High Priests with oil mingled with the richest spices. They also anointed themselves with oil on all festive occasions, whence the expression in Psalm xlv, 7: 'God hath anointed thee with the oil of gladness.'".

Also, because both Jews and Freemasons appeal to God to provide them with corn, wine and oil, as their wages, it seems especially appropriate to invoke them when job-hunting. I am currently seeking a new source for my corn, wine and oil, and hence this blog to journal my efforts in that regard.

The scythe and the beehive

I just came home from a masonic funeral, my second this year. I didn't know the deceased brother, who was a member of the other lodge that meets in our building, but was an honorary member of our lodge. Brothers from both lodges were there to see their brother off to that land from which no traveler ever returns. There was a good turn-out. The family seemed very grateful to have us there.

The old Past District Deputy Grand Master I had dinner with last week was there, and we talked afterwards. He told me that masonic attendance for masonic funerals really depends on the weather: when it rains or snows, very few brothers show up. I feel that attendance at masonic funerals is absolutely crucial. I canceled a paid job seminar to be there (I got a refund). It means a lot to the family, and it does our fraternity proud to have a good showing when a brother dies. It's the first and primary way that some people find out who we are and what we do. When a cop dies, cops show up to the funeral, even if they don't know the fallen cop. When firemen or marines die, other firemen or marines come to the funeral, even if they don't know their departed brother. It's the right thing to do, and that it brings us honor to do it is a nice side benefit.

The first masonic funeral I went to was for a Past Master of my lodge whom I had never met. I was the only brother who showed up who wasn't himself a Past Master. We had just enough brothers to perform the funeral ritual, but the family was so grateful. I talked to his widow, and was very moved by her reaction. Some people might find it weird that a bunch of men in aprons show up at a funeral, recite some words of 18th century English, and then depart, but I don't believe I encountered any of those people tonight.

I'm something of a hypocrite here, because my synagogue has put the word out for a minyan (10 people) to sit shiva (Jewish funeral observance) a few times when a family member of one of the worshipers dies, and I have yet to be involved. I really should participate the next time I'm asked.

I had a great interview at a start-up today. It was supposed to be for a half-hour, but I stayed for an hour and a half, and the last interviewer told me immediately that he wanted me to come back for a second interview. Usually I have to wait up to a week to be asked back to a company, so I'm taking this as an indicator of keen interest on their part. I have a phone interview today at a company where my uncle is an administrator, and I have a friend and former co-worker who works there and gave me a good recommendation.

Lodge of instruction tonight, hosted by the other lodge that meets in our lodge building.