Since college, I can count on one hand the number of times that I’ve been to a Wal-mart. I have two main reasons for my limited visits. For one, I remember watching a documentary proclaiming the evil practices of the giant corporation; I refuse to support any grossly unethical businesses. I wish I could say that that was my main and only reason for avoiding Wal-Marts.
Quite frankly, even if the company were entirely altruistic, I would probably still not visit because I never found the appeal of their low quality items. It was a wonder that I found myself heading towards the local Wal-mart at 11pm.
I vaguely remembered hearing that it was acceptable for people to openly park their cars for the night in a Wal-mart parking lot. I’m not sure how I even heard this rumor, maybe it was from the documentary; last night I thought it’d be an interesting theory to test.
I drove in expecting to see a small congregation of vans, trucks, and RVs forming on the outskirts of the parking lot. I imagined a camp filled with dark tinted vans, each with its own colorful history of police stakeouts and/or Amber alert kidnappings.
I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or disappointed when I found only one parked RV. All of the other vehicles looked like they were normal shoppers. I drove in closer to look for the telltale signs of a fellow road hobo; there would be curtains shut, windows wide open for ventilation, and maybe some form of light emitting from the cracks. I circled the parking lot and didn’t find what I was looking for.
However, I did find the security guard. He sat in his SUV and prowled the lot, occasionally driving up and down the lanes with his flashing orange lights. At first I didn’t pay him any notice; I figured I could park far enough away and he would leave me alone. I reasoned that the evil corporation probably didn’t pay him enough to actively look for trouble. On the other hand, I saw the signs that repeatedly stated “No Overnight Parking or You Will Be Towed”.
As much as I believe that ‘Bad Decisions make Great Stories’, there’s a certain line that has be drawn and having your vehicle towed while you’re still sleeping in it is not something that I’d like the pleasure of retelling. So instead of risking it, I simply drove up to the guard and asked him if it was acceptable to sleep in my vehicle.
The guard looked over at me with compassion morso than as a figure of authority. He explained how it was his job to make sure that no one parked overnight, with the exception of RVs (which were allowed a 1 day maximum). He gave a heartfelt apology. I told him no worries and that I didn’t want to make his job difficult (or get towed).
Just as I was leaving he mentioned that the lot further down the street (owned by Petco and Vons) was not guarded by anyone. He said I was more than welcome to stay there until the morning.
I thanked him and parked down the street in the nearly empty lot. It felt uncomfortable to be in such an open area, but I thought it’d be neat to try for at least one night. I wish the story ended here with me getting a good nights sleep, but you’ll be surprised at what goes on in a nearly empty parking lot at night.
My first interruption was what sounded like a drug deal that happened at 12:50 am. The two cars had parked approximately three car lengths away from me, with one car probably thinking that I was the initial buyer/seller. I peeked through my tinted window and lifted one of my blackout curtains just slightly to see what was going on. Since there wasn't much sound proofing in my vehicle, I could clearly hear their conversation, but I wasn't sure exactly what they were buying/selling, though it definitely seemed like a drug deal. After the deal, they surprised me with a quick conversation about the state of politics. Hmm, who would've thought?
I was woken from my sleep a second time by the sound of a nearby heavy engine. It scared me thinking that it was a tow truck. I hastily looked around and luckily it wasn’t. At this point, I started sleeping with my jeans on in case I needed to make a quick escape. It’s barely 2:30 am.
The third time I woke up hearing an engine rev loudly. This time I woke up more annoyed than frightened, thinking “Are you serious?” I looked through the back window to find someone working on his car just a few feet from my tailgate bumper. I look over at my cell phone and wonder who works on their car at 4 am in an empty parking lot?! After a few minutes, I hear his car revving away into the night (or what was left of it).
I've decided that I’m done with parking lots. I head back to my favorite spot, an apartment complex that sits inconspicuously a block away from the police station. I need whatever sleep I can get; I have work at 8:00 am.
Friday, August 28, 2009
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Do Your Ethics Correlate to Your Debt + Standard of Living?
Let's say that tomorrow, the company you work for does a legal, but unethical thing. Although it really depends on what the situation is, I'd like to ask this main question for tonight's blog post, "What's the extent that you as a person, are willing to do based on your personal morals and societies' laws?"
If a legal, but unethical situation happens, I would assume that most people would try to fix the issue, say through a manager or their human resources department. Now what if nothing is done about the complaint? Do you bring the issue up again? Maybe. Would you quit or even risk your job? Probably not. People have credit card debt, student loans, car payments, cell phone bills, electric, and rent/mortgage payments.
This got me thinking about what I would personally do. I find that the higher my standard of living and the larger my debt, the higher chances that I have of compromising who I am, what I believe in, and what I do. For example, I know that right now if I ran into an unethical situation at work, I have no qualms about quitting. Its hard to imagine, but if I had a house payment (or was trying to support a wife and 3 kids), that even if something grossly unethical happened at work, I would be a lot less inclined to quit or risk my job. Some would say that given the latter scenario of a dependent household, I would not have the freedom or the luxury.
Now let's take it a step further. What if an illegal and unethical situation happens? Would we still look the other way? Would you quit? Some people may say to look for another job, but what if taking another job means making less money and not being able to support your current standard of living? We all talk big, but who would really lower their standard of living if the unethical/illegal situation does not affect them directly?
These are just some thoughts going through my head right now. Today I woke up with a sick feeling in my stomach. I was scheduled to help interview 7 people for a new job posting in my company. I had time to glance over all of the resumes and knew that everyone was older and had much more experience than me; some of the people being interviewed were easily twice my age. None of that bothered me in the slightest because I knew my database.
What bothered me was that the job was posted with a vague description and it was designed without consulting the current staff. I'm still not sure who posted it, but with all due respect, they had no idea what they were writing. It pretty much asked for a Technical Program Manager position without stating the actual duties involved.
As a nerd, let me just say that a nerd is not just a nerd. I could break it down thoroughly, but for the most part a hardware nerd is much different than a software nerd. Hardware nerds are knowledgeable about subjects like servers, routers, firewalls, switches, and network infrastructure. The software nerds are knowledgeable about different programs and it also gets really specific; for example, there's a world of difference between high level programming and low level programming. Today we were looking at who could do queries, report design, database migrations, and database merges.
The list can go on for both categories, but needless to say we were looking for a very specific skill set (even though the posting didn't specify it). It'd be the equivalent of hiring for a restaurant at an upscale French restaurant saying "Need good chef" without mentioning whether they're seeking a sous-chef or pastry chef.
It's difficult to explain how this even happened. I heard that the position was posted last week (by an unknown person to me). Interviews were then scheduled immediately by the Executive Director. Since learning about the posting, I've asked for the job description (since I'm helping with the interviews), but did not get any straight answers. Since the ED has only been here for a month, I asked quite frankly if the ED knew what the current staff even did (much less try to hire new staff).
The ED finally responded back to me with a list of the duties that everyone in the team was responsible for. We looked at the list for a few minutes and could tell that the ED didn't even know what we were doing. I got the list yesterday and replied, but have not heard anything about it yet. It gets a lot more complicated with the history of the organization, but let's say that its provoked me to think about the state of affairs here.
I have mixed feelings about this whole situation. For the most part, I laugh at how absurd everything is. What I can tell you about this whole situation is that I am VERY thankful that I do not have anymore debt (including student loans). Without debt, I feel like I have my freedom. I do not need to stay at this company if I disagree with how it is run. I do not create a situation where I need the money in order for me to maintain my standard of living (however low that is). I cannot be happier with how I'm living (even if I am living in my truck). I can't take a shower whenever I want, but I never need to compromise who I am.
If a legal, but unethical situation happens, I would assume that most people would try to fix the issue, say through a manager or their human resources department. Now what if nothing is done about the complaint? Do you bring the issue up again? Maybe. Would you quit or even risk your job? Probably not. People have credit card debt, student loans, car payments, cell phone bills, electric, and rent/mortgage payments.
This got me thinking about what I would personally do. I find that the higher my standard of living and the larger my debt, the higher chances that I have of compromising who I am, what I believe in, and what I do. For example, I know that right now if I ran into an unethical situation at work, I have no qualms about quitting. Its hard to imagine, but if I had a house payment (or was trying to support a wife and 3 kids), that even if something grossly unethical happened at work, I would be a lot less inclined to quit or risk my job. Some would say that given the latter scenario of a dependent household, I would not have the freedom or the luxury.
Now let's take it a step further. What if an illegal and unethical situation happens? Would we still look the other way? Would you quit? Some people may say to look for another job, but what if taking another job means making less money and not being able to support your current standard of living? We all talk big, but who would really lower their standard of living if the unethical/illegal situation does not affect them directly?
These are just some thoughts going through my head right now. Today I woke up with a sick feeling in my stomach. I was scheduled to help interview 7 people for a new job posting in my company. I had time to glance over all of the resumes and knew that everyone was older and had much more experience than me; some of the people being interviewed were easily twice my age. None of that bothered me in the slightest because I knew my database.
What bothered me was that the job was posted with a vague description and it was designed without consulting the current staff. I'm still not sure who posted it, but with all due respect, they had no idea what they were writing. It pretty much asked for a Technical Program Manager position without stating the actual duties involved.
As a nerd, let me just say that a nerd is not just a nerd. I could break it down thoroughly, but for the most part a hardware nerd is much different than a software nerd. Hardware nerds are knowledgeable about subjects like servers, routers, firewalls, switches, and network infrastructure. The software nerds are knowledgeable about different programs and it also gets really specific; for example, there's a world of difference between high level programming and low level programming. Today we were looking at who could do queries, report design, database migrations, and database merges.
The list can go on for both categories, but needless to say we were looking for a very specific skill set (even though the posting didn't specify it). It'd be the equivalent of hiring for a restaurant at an upscale French restaurant saying "Need good chef" without mentioning whether they're seeking a sous-chef or pastry chef.
It's difficult to explain how this even happened. I heard that the position was posted last week (by an unknown person to me). Interviews were then scheduled immediately by the Executive Director. Since learning about the posting, I've asked for the job description (since I'm helping with the interviews), but did not get any straight answers. Since the ED has only been here for a month, I asked quite frankly if the ED knew what the current staff even did (much less try to hire new staff).
The ED finally responded back to me with a list of the duties that everyone in the team was responsible for. We looked at the list for a few minutes and could tell that the ED didn't even know what we were doing. I got the list yesterday and replied, but have not heard anything about it yet. It gets a lot more complicated with the history of the organization, but let's say that its provoked me to think about the state of affairs here.
I have mixed feelings about this whole situation. For the most part, I laugh at how absurd everything is. What I can tell you about this whole situation is that I am VERY thankful that I do not have anymore debt (including student loans). Without debt, I feel like I have my freedom. I do not need to stay at this company if I disagree with how it is run. I do not create a situation where I need the money in order for me to maintain my standard of living (however low that is). I cannot be happier with how I'm living (even if I am living in my truck). I can't take a shower whenever I want, but I never need to compromise who I am.
Saturday, August 15, 2009
The People You Meet!
Trying to find cover from San Diego's harsh afternoon sunlight, I situated myself under a tree in a secluded section of the park. After reading for a couple of hours, I decided to take a nap. Despite finding a nice area, beams of searing light still passed through the thin branches. Improvising, I shielded my eyes with a book before falling asleep.
I woke up to hear the grass rustling heavily around me. The noises that woke me weren't from the surrounding sounds in the park, but instead came from something very close; it sounded almost at arms reach away. Being incredibly lazy, I peaked through the book to see what was causing the sounds.
There stood an ugly pit bull, panting from the heat and sniffing the grass at an uncomfortable distance; the dog's nose was literally an inch from me. I removed the book and saw that the pit-bull wore a chain leash. Holding the other end of the leash was the owner, who was letting his dog sniff me as if I had somehow farted sweet cinnamon rolls in my sleep and it was only natural for them to come investigate.
Not only did it seem creepy enough to wake up having a strange dog smelling you, but the pet owner was even creepier. He looked around my age, but dirtier; that says a lot about someone when you're dirtier than a homeless person. He looked directly at me when I glanced at him. I wondered for a moment, how long he stood staring at me before I woke up. I quickly brushed the thought away and scanned the area, finding that the rest of the park had plenty of other trees with shade.
I looked back at the owner with an expression of "WTF" written across my face. Common sense dictates that taking a nap at a public park is normal. However, it’s not normal (and it seems downright rude) to purposely let your dog sniff someone whose napping. Besides that, you do not just stand there and stare at people sleeping! Having just woken up, the best I could manage was saying "Ummmm... hi, what are you doing?" while giving my best scowl.
The slow witted pet owner misinterpreted my hostility and instead got the impression that I wanted a casual conversation with him. He asked if the book I was reading (Gregory Maguire's 'Wicked') was anything like Stephen King books. Hoping to end our conversation there, I bluntly replied no.
He continued onto a rant about how his parents tell him not to read Stephen King books, but he does it anyway because he's a ‘rebel’. I tried to switch the subject by mentioning that his dog is too close to me, but he magically hears something different. I guess people hear what they want to hear.
What I say: “Why did you let your dog get that close to me when I’m sleeping?”
He seems to hear something different and replies: “Don’t worry, he’s a good dog. He’s a mix between a chow and a pit bull. I’ve had him for two years and he's so energetic, etc…”
This goes on for a couple minutes where whenever I hint for him to get lost, he believes I'm thoroughly enjoying his company and would like nothing more than to continue our exciting dialogue. I resist the urge to outright tell the crazy guy and his dog to leave so I can nap in peace.
As I'm trying to find a polite way of ending our 'conversation', he tells me how he lives with his parents and how he's bored all the time, but doesn't want to get a job or go to school. A weird feeling comes over me and I start to feel compassion for the guy. Maybe he has serious brain damage and I’m the closest thing to a friend he has. I start to feel like an ass for being the rude one.
After listening to 10 more minutes of his ranting about various subjects and after dispensing some of my own heartfelt advice (get a job), the compassion I felt is officially gone. I decide that he is either really crazy or really stoned. I tell him that I need to go.
Before I leave, he asks for my number and says that we should hang out to play video games, which he assumes that I’m a gamer (I'm sure his parents would have loved to have their unemployed son bring home a homeless person to play video games with him).
Normally I don't lie, but I don't have the heart to tell him I'm not interested; I tell him that I don't have a cell phone and that I don't really like to play video games. I'm a terrible liar and even if he did believe me, my cell phone (which was sitting inside my yoga bag nearby) began to ring. We looked at each other in silence while my cell phone continued to ring until finally the call was forwarded to voice mail. At this point, I'm pretty confident that the guy was stoned beyond belief or seriously messed up in the head because he didn't seem to register that I just received a call.
I quickly and awkwardly said my goodbye. I walked away pretending like I had a place to go, but as soon as he seemed far away, I resettled down to the nearest sturdy tree and started reading again.
Note: Although this was a weird stranger, I've bumped into many friendly strangers as well. Just a week ago at midnight, I was parked in a residential zone sitting in the back of the hobotruck folding my laundry neatly into my storage compartments. I had my camping light turned on, but didn't bother to put down the blackout curtains yet since street lighting provided some additional lighting and I didn't want to use my precious batteries.
My activities caught the attention of a cute girl who had just parked nearby. She walked over asking "Are you camping?". I looked over and saw someone a few years younger than me straddling a long board under her small arms. She seemed to have the stereotypical mellow surfer vibe so after being prompted, I explained my story of being homeless by personal choice and how I wanted this personal experience. We talked for a while before she said the board was getting heavy. She pointed out her house nearby and said to knock if I ever needed anything. I thought that was cool of her to offer.
I woke up to hear the grass rustling heavily around me. The noises that woke me weren't from the surrounding sounds in the park, but instead came from something very close; it sounded almost at arms reach away. Being incredibly lazy, I peaked through the book to see what was causing the sounds.
There stood an ugly pit bull, panting from the heat and sniffing the grass at an uncomfortable distance; the dog's nose was literally an inch from me. I removed the book and saw that the pit-bull wore a chain leash. Holding the other end of the leash was the owner, who was letting his dog sniff me as if I had somehow farted sweet cinnamon rolls in my sleep and it was only natural for them to come investigate.
Not only did it seem creepy enough to wake up having a strange dog smelling you, but the pet owner was even creepier. He looked around my age, but dirtier; that says a lot about someone when you're dirtier than a homeless person. He looked directly at me when I glanced at him. I wondered for a moment, how long he stood staring at me before I woke up. I quickly brushed the thought away and scanned the area, finding that the rest of the park had plenty of other trees with shade.
I looked back at the owner with an expression of "WTF" written across my face. Common sense dictates that taking a nap at a public park is normal. However, it’s not normal (and it seems downright rude) to purposely let your dog sniff someone whose napping. Besides that, you do not just stand there and stare at people sleeping! Having just woken up, the best I could manage was saying "Ummmm... hi, what are you doing?" while giving my best scowl.
The slow witted pet owner misinterpreted my hostility and instead got the impression that I wanted a casual conversation with him. He asked if the book I was reading (Gregory Maguire's 'Wicked') was anything like Stephen King books. Hoping to end our conversation there, I bluntly replied no.
He continued onto a rant about how his parents tell him not to read Stephen King books, but he does it anyway because he's a ‘rebel’. I tried to switch the subject by mentioning that his dog is too close to me, but he magically hears something different. I guess people hear what they want to hear.
What I say: “Why did you let your dog get that close to me when I’m sleeping?”
He seems to hear something different and replies: “Don’t worry, he’s a good dog. He’s a mix between a chow and a pit bull. I’ve had him for two years and he's so energetic, etc…”
This goes on for a couple minutes where whenever I hint for him to get lost, he believes I'm thoroughly enjoying his company and would like nothing more than to continue our exciting dialogue. I resist the urge to outright tell the crazy guy and his dog to leave so I can nap in peace.
As I'm trying to find a polite way of ending our 'conversation', he tells me how he lives with his parents and how he's bored all the time, but doesn't want to get a job or go to school. A weird feeling comes over me and I start to feel compassion for the guy. Maybe he has serious brain damage and I’m the closest thing to a friend he has. I start to feel like an ass for being the rude one.
After listening to 10 more minutes of his ranting about various subjects and after dispensing some of my own heartfelt advice (get a job), the compassion I felt is officially gone. I decide that he is either really crazy or really stoned. I tell him that I need to go.
Before I leave, he asks for my number and says that we should hang out to play video games, which he assumes that I’m a gamer (I'm sure his parents would have loved to have their unemployed son bring home a homeless person to play video games with him).
Normally I don't lie, but I don't have the heart to tell him I'm not interested; I tell him that I don't have a cell phone and that I don't really like to play video games. I'm a terrible liar and even if he did believe me, my cell phone (which was sitting inside my yoga bag nearby) began to ring. We looked at each other in silence while my cell phone continued to ring until finally the call was forwarded to voice mail. At this point, I'm pretty confident that the guy was stoned beyond belief or seriously messed up in the head because he didn't seem to register that I just received a call.
I quickly and awkwardly said my goodbye. I walked away pretending like I had a place to go, but as soon as he seemed far away, I resettled down to the nearest sturdy tree and started reading again.
Note: Although this was a weird stranger, I've bumped into many friendly strangers as well. Just a week ago at midnight, I was parked in a residential zone sitting in the back of the hobotruck folding my laundry neatly into my storage compartments. I had my camping light turned on, but didn't bother to put down the blackout curtains yet since street lighting provided some additional lighting and I didn't want to use my precious batteries.
My activities caught the attention of a cute girl who had just parked nearby. She walked over asking "Are you camping?". I looked over and saw someone a few years younger than me straddling a long board under her small arms. She seemed to have the stereotypical mellow surfer vibe so after being prompted, I explained my story of being homeless by personal choice and how I wanted this personal experience. We talked for a while before she said the board was getting heavy. She pointed out her house nearby and said to knock if I ever needed anything. I thought that was cool of her to offer.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Ever been interviewed by a homeless guy?
I've been homeless for about two weeks now. This week I've been reviewing resumes and next week I'll start interviewing people for a new position in the company. What has this world come to? Homeless people are interviewing people for jobs!
Its such a strange feeling to be on the other side filtering the resumes instead of submitting them. For the position that we'll start interviewing next week, many of the applicants have their masters degree. We're also hiring a junior position that will mirror my job. I'm looking at my qualifications and I don't think even I meet the posted qualifications for my own job.
Its such a strange feeling to be on the other side filtering the resumes instead of submitting them. For the position that we'll start interviewing next week, many of the applicants have their masters degree. We're also hiring a junior position that will mirror my job. I'm looking at my qualifications and I don't think even I meet the posted qualifications for my own job.
Friday, August 7, 2009
The hobotruck
I've had the hobotruck since 2003, although back then it was just a regular truck. When I first bought it, it was a tan colored 2003 Toyota Tacoma with a regular cab. For years its been a reliable vehicle that I've taken on many camping trips.
I considered buying a Volkswagon Vanagon, but couldn't find one that was reasonably priced and nearby. So instead I went and modifed my Tacoma. Here's what was done:
Camper shell - The camper shell is the same tan color as the original truck. It has 9 inches of lift over the regular height. This allows more vertical room so I can sit up straight and not bump my head into the wall. Windows slide open on the side for ventilation. The original glass window in the back of the truck has been taken out so I can crawl through from the driver's side to the truckbed if I wanted to. Black tubing connects the two spaces so that its rainproof.
Curtains - For curtains I went to Ikea and bought some blackout curtains. I cut the fabric to match the windows and installed them using velcro. I can have my lights on inside and there's no residue light that spills to the outside of the vehicle. On one of the sides I have a tension rod mounted and the curtains are hung.
Bed - For bedding, I use a self-inflating ThermaRest DreamTime camping mattress that I picked up at REI. Its 3 inches of cushioning with a foam pillow top and fleece lining. It lays lengthwise across my truck bed and fits perfectly. For a pillow I use my memory foam pillow from Costco.
I considered buying a Volkswagon Vanagon, but couldn't find one that was reasonably priced and nearby. So instead I went and modifed my Tacoma. Here's what was done:
Camper shell - The camper shell is the same tan color as the original truck. It has 9 inches of lift over the regular height. This allows more vertical room so I can sit up straight and not bump my head into the wall. Windows slide open on the side for ventilation. The original glass window in the back of the truck has been taken out so I can crawl through from the driver's side to the truckbed if I wanted to. Black tubing connects the two spaces so that its rainproof.
Curtains - For curtains I went to Ikea and bought some blackout curtains. I cut the fabric to match the windows and installed them using velcro. I can have my lights on inside and there's no residue light that spills to the outside of the vehicle. On one of the sides I have a tension rod mounted and the curtains are hung.
Bed - For bedding, I use a self-inflating ThermaRest DreamTime camping mattress that I picked up at REI. Its 3 inches of cushioning with a foam pillow top and fleece lining. It lays lengthwise across my truck bed and fits perfectly. For a pillow I use my memory foam pillow from Costco.
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