Now I am quietly waiting for
the catastrophe of my personality
to seem beautiful again,
and interesting, and modern.
The country is grey and
brown and white in trees,
snows and skies of laughter
always diminishing, less funny
not just darker, not just grey.
It may be the coldest day of
the year, what does he think of
that? I mean, what do I? And if I do,
perhaps I am myself again.
Is O'Hara's poem charting this character's future? Tune in Aug. 16th.
["Mayakovsky" is available in O'Hara's Collected Poems (1971), in two editions of Selected Poems (1974, 2008), and in the reissued Meditations in an Emergency (1996).]
Maybe it's the Mad Men Mania for the new season on Aug. 16 that causes me to be so reflective for this year's birthday.
It's difficult to remember isn't it? Where you were and what you were doing for all the previous birthdays. Go ahead, try to remember, it's not as life-changing or as memorable as you might think.
Aging is a gradual process I find. What's maddening is,I remember exactly what I was like at 22. I had just interviewed for my first job out of a very Catholic all-girls college during the worst recession and landed it. This was in 1987 when we still punched time clocks and a fax machine was the latest technology. Apple computers were in the office and I was the first allowed to take a laptop home. I worked for someone that was just like Don Draper. ( Cathy Goodman, if you're reading this, you know exactly who I'm talking about.) I also dressed just like the actresses on Mad Men when I was 40 lbs lighter. I had the stilleto heels, the pantyhose, the silk library blouse.....everything. I appeared very conservative. I was also annoyingly industrious and all-around nice yes-girl willing to do anything to be liked. I remember a young graphic designer in our group showing up for work without pantyhose and it caused quite a stir among the older colleagues. I thought she looked nice with her tanned legs. Little did we know that pantyhose would become obsolete. I still don't like wearing dresses without them, it seems so unpolished and unladylike.
Anyway, I was interviewing for my first publishing job with Don Draper look-alike Ron Malone. Ron was in charge of the Kendall/Hunt district sales group and knew nothing about publishing. He came from Proctor and Gamble's advertising arm and no one thought he would stay long in Dubuque, IA. However, Ron knew everything about people.
I was very nervous because I knew I was too young for this production editing job. The other women in the department were 20 years older than me. The only other one close in age to me had been with the company for about 10 years out of highschool. Ron called me "kid" and asked me if I had a boyfriend, what my favorite drink was and if I ever lost my temper. Would I move for a boyfriend? and do I ever swear?
He told me that the 2 women sitting during the interview with me had worked their way up from secretaries without a college degree and wanted to know if I would work for 20 years in the same job to get ahead. Ruth, the senior manager sat to my right on the executive leather couch in her homesewn slender Chanel blue suit with her blond beehive do, blue eyeshadow that matched her bright blue eyes and chainsmoking the whole time. (We also had open bars at our annual Christmas parties and colleagues getting drunk at our annual sales meetings.) I have to say, he sized me up quickly and knew exactly what buttons to push. He was a very bright man. As I walked into his paneled office with the oversized executive desk, and my feet sank into the carpet, I was already overwhelmed. Then I sat into the interview chair that was 2 inches below Ron's desk ,and I felt very small. It occurred to me at that moment , that Ron was a little prick and I was not going to lose my cool no matter what.
I answered his questions , my favorite drink, Pina Colada, no I would not change or move for a boyfriend, yes I lose my temper, and yes I would stay with the company if the company still existed 20 years from now. 6% of 700 is 42 ( He paused and looked down at his intercom when I answered correctly in 2 seconds flat- he had a poker face, but I sensed it startled him,and the women managers began to smile slowly.)
I also told him that my family had recently relocated to North Carolina and no that was not a problem. My father was a consultant ( a lie, he was laid off and died a week later from a heart attack after this interview).
So how did I land this job? I'll tell you Mad Men.......it wasn't because I answered his questions correctly. It's because I asked him a question. I answered that I swear, and I swear often. He asked me which word. I asked him if he wanted me to say it right now. He paused, and said yes. And then I said "Fuck you".
Silence, the interview concluded, I was sure I did not have this job, I turned around to leave and Ron stopped me with three words. Before you leave Connie, if I offer you this job, will you take it?
I said yes, or course.
I worked there 4 years in a real office, not a cubicle. He is still the best boss I ever worked for. His wife with the bleached blond hair and big boobs greeted me enthusiasticaly at the first Christmas party with " I heard all about you, and it's nice to meet you."
On my last day, he came down to say good-bye to me and the older colleagues were flabbergasted. They said he had never done that for anyone's last day.
I heard that this privately held company fired Ron a few years back, and they hired the boss' young college-educated son-in-law instead. I hope you're doing well Ron. I doubt the rich son-in-law understands people as well as you did.
