Another clothing item I never thought I’d own.

Note: This piece is about a decision I made pre-pandemic. I’ve saved any Covid-centric content for a separate entry so this one could stand alone regarding career change. Whether you’re still working or you’re looking to make your next move, I hope this brings you value.

After a decade in an office I needed change. It had been a good run working at the local college, starting in a temporary position, then getting hired part-time, and ultimately full-time. In that span I managed to marry my girlfriend, buy a house, have a baby girl, adopt my step-son, and have a baby boy.

The employment benefits were incomparable. I could almost always take time off to play gigs, and the hours were normal enough that I could comfortably do “Live from Stadium Drive” episodes during the week. (Won’t embarrass us by dishing on how demanding our silly show can be.) I also got incredible paternity leave. And it only took 10 minutes from my driveway to my desk whether I drove or biked. Most of all, the insurance rates were unbeatable.

How could I walk away from all that?

I’d hardly walked “toward” it to begin with—I’d just wanted a paycheck to supplement what I earned from music. Being a full-time musician at the level I was at meant agreeing to every possible gig, which started to suck the art and excitement out of performing. (To this day I’d rather play a quality concert for free than treat a show like an uninspired shift of work.)

Of course I liked the idea of helping students achieve their goals, but the job was ultimately means to pursue music and, later, to support my family. My opinion of higher education would change, but even if it hadn’t, I felt urgency to expand my skill set—even if it meant switching to an “unskilled” field.

After years of handling college enrollment, graduation, customer service, records, and some marketing and event planning, I had learned as much I could and effectively hit my ceiling. Since I’d always worked on and studied arts and communication, I considered becoming better rounded and learning a trade—something more tactile, while I was still young enough to devote the necessary hours.

After high school I worked three summers doing landscaping and lawn care, and in recent years had done all the random projects home ownership required, but I’d never really worked a trade full-time. Could I even hack it? I’m the sole financial provider for my family of five, so any kind of career switch would be risky. Humbling, too—I’ve got a Bachelor’s degree (double major: English and Film) that I’d more or less be admitting was a mistake, not to mention I’d suddenly be working with younger people who knew a lot more than me. I’d need to jump in, catch up, and succeed. But which trade?

I started calling friends who worked in carpentry, electricity, plumbing, and metal work. Trying to narrow things down, every answer raised more questions: In- or outdoors? Union or non-? Commercial or residential? Traveling or stationary?

A family friend suggested painting. I hadn’t considered it, though I’d done it a decent amount, and my late grandfather was a painter, and I had a friend from the music scene who was a full-time (and then some) painter. I reached out to that friend and by chance, the custom builder he works for was looking to hire another full-time painter. I picked his brain for over an hour, and beyond the demanding schedule (6am-4:30pm, Monday-Friday) I really couldn’t find a red flag. After a few days I decided I’d submit my resume, if only for the potential chance to chat with someone from the company and glean some insight. Since I was still employed I had no pressure or fear of rejection; I was just hoping for advice.

When I dropped off my resume I happened to catch both owners at the shop, which apparently rarely happens. They offered to talk right then, and I had time, so we sat in a conference room together, chatting while they looked over my resume. We got along very well; my gut told me this could be a good fit. One owner had left an accounting position to start this business, so he could relate to the type of change I was seeking. After a good 15 minutes they stepped out for a second, giving me time to think of any other questions. When they returned we talked a bit more before they told me they’d like to hire me(!), but wanted me to think about it some more, especially since I’d be taking a modest pay cut. They gave me their business cards, we shook hands, and I left, taking a moment to sit in my car before starting it. What just happened?

This was freaky alright. Directly from there I had to head into the college and work as if that meeting hadn’t just happened.

My head swirled that day. I knew everything about the job I’d be leaving, but couldn’t really know what full-time painting would be like until I was immersed. I’d be swapping known for unknown, and getting paid less to do it, though if it worked out I’d eventually earn more than ever. I had my wife’s support, but still, the risk would be one of the biggest I’d ever taken. This opportunity had come much faster than I’d anticipated, if I’d anticipated any opportunity at all.

…I had to seize it. The next evening I called one of the owners to accept the job and confirm a start date. The next morning I solemnly submitted my two-week notice to the place I’d worked for almost ten years—just eight days since I even considered painting! I could hardly believe what I was doing. My co-workers were shocked, too, but they understood, and even threw together a couple farewell parties for me. Until then I’d felt a peculiar assurance. Leaving on such good terms, though, I couldn’t help doubting the decision I made.

But now, two months into my new job, I know I made the right move.

At least for now. (Check back after I’ve scraped [paint off] a few more millionaires’ floors.) A job is a job, but here’s what makes the grass greener:

• Physicality  — I’d rather be physically tired or even sore compared to the exhaustion from working with people. I hated the idea of draining all my politeness having to be “on” all day, and coming home tight-lipped or crabby to my family when they’re excited to see me. I also burn many more calories during the day, and suddenly spared my body from 40 hours of sitting a week.
• Simplicity  — The work is refreshingly straight-forward. Emotion is rarely a factor. And there aren’t any meetings, e-mails, or seminars.
• Accountability — There’s not much room for interpretation. We’re all just expected to get our work done well and efficiently. There’s no hiding incompetence, no defensiveness, and no shifting blame.
• The vibe — I’m a pretty sensitive guy—I blog, even!—but in an office I felt like a business-casual Andrew Dice Clay. Working a trade I still mostly keep to myself, but it feels so much better to not walk on eggshells. The communication is also refreshingly direct.
• The learning — Can’t say I’ve mastered painting, prep work, caulking, and sanding yet, but already these are skills I’ll carry forever, that I didn’t have before. (I cringe at the walls I painted in my house as an amateur.) If I ever wanted or needed, I could do this work independently for cash. I’m also trying to glean what I can about the other trades I work around—carpentry, electrical work, plumbing, masonry, flooring, etc.
• Changing locations — From sitting in the same cubicle every day, to working at different sites in different towns every couple of weeks if not days.
• Tangible, aesthetic results — There’s little sense of accomplishment from clicking a spreadsheet or list closed once it’s finished. But seeing a skeletal frame evolve into a unique, finished home will never get old.
• Much more sunlight/fresh air — I still work almost entirely inside, but I’m usually surrounded by windows, and there are plenty of trips in and out of the houses.
• No screens — Typing this blog has constituted more time staring at a computer screen than I’ve spent in the last two months combined, whereas dual monitors used to assault my eyes eight hours a day.
• No fluorescent lights — Everything I’d hoped it’d be.
• No dress code — Ditto!
• Team work/collaboration — Modern offices like to pride themselves on their collaborative environment, but even with cubicle walls removed, workers are still essentially atomized. In trades, workers are like members of some savage symphony.
• Leaner schedule/life — After a long day of work, then dinner and family time, it’s pretty much time for me to hit the hay, so without noticing I’ll go days without spending money or having a drink. It’s also got me valuing my free time more than ever, and I somehow do more because I’ve got less time.
• Job security — The inherent insecurity in any trade is whether a given company can find work to do, so that goes without saying. But as long as I show up and do what I’m supposed to do, I’m set. The beauty of trades work is it will always be needed, it cannot be outsourced overseas, and it cannot be automated.
• Improvisation — As opposed to micromanagement.

In the interest of fairness, here are the things I don’t like:

• Early/long hours — I’ve been a night owl forever, so this isn’t natural for me. I’m also worried what this earlier schedule will mean for my social life and creative endeavors, which usually burn midnight oil.
• Beating up my hands — Lots of scrapes, nicks, and broken nails. Working with caulk, putty, paints, and stains means scrubbing all that stuff off my hands and fingernails every night. Going to be a battle not to wreck my mitts (though my hands are stronger than before).
• Port-a-potties — Self-explanatory.

In all ways this is rougher work than I’d been used to. I’ve been preferring it, but it’s going to take extra effort to keep it that way. This means a routine of stretching and light exercise every morning and night, but also keeping my mind and heart in good condition, detoxing daily with poetry or philosophy, and sweet, sweet family time.

I needed a lot of encouragement to make this switch, so I wanted to write this and pass some onto others. If you’re not liking your line of work (or lack thereof) I hope this offers some insight. If you’ve got some coordination, brain cells, discipline, and humility, you just might be happier taking on a trade.

Holler if I can help. Or just watch “Office Space”.

Best,

-Matty

Seen here with a Sherwin-Williams HANDy Paint Pail®, somehow happy at 7am.

Even the local stuff, apparently, as borne out by the results of yesterday’s mayoral primary.

This is indeed a “sour grapes” post, but maybe not how you’d imagine. If you’re feeling sweet, perhaps after reading you’ll share some advice.

So who’d Green Bay get? Two guys with—for better or worse—experience in local politics, who by all accounts outspent their competition, in some cases vastly. Nothing shocking or blog-worthy there.

What’s disappointing about these candidates, though, is they are essentially proxies for their respective political parties, in a mayoral race which, to my understanding, disregards party affiliation.

In other words, I spent three precious hours of my weekend researching eight primary candidates and all I got were these lazy Team Red™/Team Blue™ choices. Hashtag-democracy.

Out of principle and respect for the supposed political impartiality of mayoral races, I’d concluded that neither of the blatantly party-affiliated candidates would get my vote. I strive to be an independent person and that absolutely extends to my politics, so I was excited by the prospect of a race requiring partisan voters to look for more than an “R” or “D” next to someone’s name. We might all learn something!

Alas, nope. Political dependence prevails. (We await word on water’s wetness.)

If I sound naive, I suppose I am. I had never voted for mayor before, let alone in a mayoral primary. Parenthood must have spurred my sense of civic duty. But I was especially drawn to the political ambiguity of this race, so I’m dismayed by the outcome, and doubt I’ll vote in April’s election.

It was still heartening to become aware of some quality local people I’d otherwise not know. And this was a great way to learn about the city’s under discussed (see: non-road) issues, such as the capital-D Debt, water infrastructure, plans/cost for a new police station, and lots more. There are some real, ongoing messes, and I’d been pitifully unaware.

Frankly, heaven help whichever of these masochists gets the job. If you’re going to vote, I might suggest the guy whose blame placement you think you’ll prefer.

Already dreading the next election,

-Matty

I hate saying no! I want to do far more than time allows. To find some peace, I’ve decided these six activities can wait for when I’m older, slower, and sorer.

• Bowling league
• Cribbage tournaments
• Watch “The Sopranos”, “The Wire”, and any number of series I’m sure are fantastic, yet eat tons of hours.
• Cross-country skiing
• Hunting/Fishing/Icefishing
• DJing

Yeah. Much as I’d like to do/try those activities now, I’ll save them for the coming decades. And really, if I never get to them, it wouldn’t torment my soul—”I sense a disturbing presence in this house…as if its former owner never finished ‘Game of Thrones’!”

It’s hardly as if I delay all gratification, in fact, partially thanks to the best TV show of all time. I may have solved the mystery of the “Time Enough at Last” episode of “The Twilight Zone”—there’s long been debate as to why the perfectly lovable Mr. Bemis should suffer the cruel fate of breaking his glasses the moment he, at last, gets endless time to read. Some feel the twist exemplifies the (alleged) misanthropy of the show’s creator-writer, Rod Serling. But I think it’s ultimately an allegory to warn against putting off what you love.

Right now my spare time goes to my sweet kids, wife, and friends, and to hobbies involving music, the written word, film, politics, history, sociology, and home improvement. These are too urgent or fleeting to not enjoy now, whereas the activities I listed above can wait. Only retirees should place a premium on time-killing amusement.

Just doing some mental maintenance—I just had a birthday, and visited my grandma at her retirement home, so I can’t help but size up the next (hopefully) two-thirds of my life.

What can you afford to put off? It sucks to say no, but I found it useful to define at least a few activities that can wait.

-Matty

PS. I just finished the manuscript for the book I ghostwrote, so I’m suddenly able to jump on here more often. See you ‘round!

PPS. Apparently “The Twilight Zone” is being rebooted. SACRILEGE.

by Andrew Hetzel, thirdeyegraphics.net

It dawned on me shortly after he was fired: Mike McCarthy is my all-time favorite coach. Not the best, but my personal favorite. I hadn’t realized this, even with my Twitter handle—borrowed from one of Mac’s classic phrases—staring me in the face.

McCarthy was hired exactly a month before Muddy Udders’ first show—my longest-running band. I’m a sentimental guy, but my admiration for Big Mac wasn’t just tied to time. Nor did it have to do with all the mileage we got joking about him over five seasons of my Packers comedy show. Just like with Ted Thompson, or anyone else Tommy or I impersonate, it’s good natured, and we’d only send up someone we like.

Why I Like(d) Mike

In a broadcast of one of McCarthy’s first games, the commentator (thinking Joe Buck [sorry]) smugly remarked Mike looked more like an equipment assistant than Head Coach. Maybe that got me defensive and endeared me right away, but I always rooted for McCarthy.

He’d occasionally baffle or even infuriate me, particularly his decisions in the last minutes of first halves, and the old fullback dives—I could go on. But overall I think he’s a great coach. Bill Belichick agrees.

In fact McCarthy purposefully modeled himself on Belichick, particularly in his press conferences, where he wanted to fulfill his duties at the podium and leave without revealing anything significant to his competition. McCarthy once called this intentional approach Boring By Design™. Some of us saw it as a hilarious art, especially when Mike allowed the mask to slip. Others grew frustrated with Mac’s lack of charisma and his dull answers.

Creating headlines was never as important to McCarthy as the messaging he sent to and about his team. Up until Ty Montgomery’s game-killing gaffe in Los Angeles this year, I’d never heard McCarthy single out one of his players publicly, and even then it was just shortly before Montgomery was jettisoned.

As long as his locker room was on board and guys had “bought in,” McCarthy was allowed to impart his philosophy, and while he’s no Jung or Nietzsche, I’ve taken two of his concepts to heart. Perhaps for these two ideas alone I’ll always appreciate Mac’s tenure. Please forgive my paraphrasing and misquotes.

1. “Our biggest challenge will be handling success.”

McCarthy gave this response during his first press conference as Head Coach. He said it matter-of-factly—he’s not a cocky guy, he’s Pittsburgh Macho. McCarthy’s been proven right, too—Aaron Rodgers claimed in years after winning Super Bowl XLV that the team wasn’t hungry like they used to be. (Mac just as easily could have been referring to spoiled Packer fans.)

Real success (allegedly) is a result of commitment to principles and passion, and ideally enjoying the process, rather than tunnel vision on the reward. Once achieved, though, success can warp the mentality of a person or unit. Imagine a band that starts out wanting to, say, rock, who then makes a hit album, and suddenly becomes more concerned with making another hit album than, say, rocking. Good life advice from an unexpected source.

2. “Don’t let fear dictate your decisions.”

McCarthy responded with this bit of wisdom when a reporter asked if Mac would consider sitting a player who had just been cleared from injury (I believe Jordy Nelson). And I love it. Fear can sink so many otherwise positive pursuits. Yes, I actually think of Mike freaking McCarthy when I catch myself justifying surrender, or start to talk myself out of something, and I’ll instead try to focus on the upside and potential rewards. If I’m driving and being tailed by a cop, good ol’ Mac’s advice helps me focus on driving well, instead of trying to just not drive poorly. Maybe this stuff is natural to you, but I’ll continue to get value from it, long after the Big Mac Era.

Goodbye, Big Guy

Should the Packers have fired McCarthy? A serious concern with any long-tenured coach is whether players will grow numb to the message and tune out. Perhaps one person’s voice can only be a source of inspiration for so long before it loses impact, and perhaps McCarthy had finally lost his locker room.

On the other hand, was that locker room simply lacking talent? Examinations of the Packers’ last three drafts have shown how bare the cupboard’s become, and between Aaron Rodgers’ struggles in 2018 and other significant injuries, there was an argument to be made in McCarthy’s favor—that he just did not have the (experienced) players to run the type of team he wanted. Still, coaches are supposed to coach the team they have, not the team they wish they had. I’m not sure McCarthy did that well enough this year.

Maddening officiating, injuries, and lapses in individual players’ judgment or execution all factored into this season’s failures, which could’ve helped make the case for keeping McCarthy—that these misfortunes weren’t his fault, that not even Belichick could’ve overcome them. But these issues all fall under the blanket term of adversity, which was something Mac had always handled with solemnity. Other than Rodgers’ individual Week 1 heroics, the Packers did not handle adversity well enough in 2018, and that’s on the Head Coach.

I was shocked that McCarthy was fired mid-season. However, I was also shocked his team lost to a very bad Cardinals team, at home, in the first game of a potential run. Mac’s future depended on how his team played out the season, though. Sunday’s brutal loss sealed his fate, and he surely knew it.

Mike was especially emotional in his press conference immediately following the Packers’ loss at Seattle, but since then he seemed more resigned, if not delivering his words as an audition for his next job in the NFL. Though no Packers Head Coach had ever been fired mid-season, breaking precedent and letting McCarthy go early not only spares him a four-game humiliation lap, but also grants a head-start on finding his next gig.

Some other team will be lucky to hire him. If McCarthy’s in-game decisions could drive me nuts, I think he was the right guy for a very unique job, whose leadership skills we either took for granted or flourished outside public view, and though it’s time to move on, he deserved to be Head Coach as long as he was.

Who Will the Packers Hire Next?

I mildly worry the organization has overestimated the appeal of being the next Packers Head Coach. A case can be made as to Rodgers’ insubordination this year: anything from a bad attitude to changing his coach’s plays.

I’d written something about McCarthy in January 2018:

We only see a fraction of McCarthy’s relationships with his players, but by all accounts, Mac’s a players’ coach. Sure, Aaron Rodgers probably thinks he’s smarter than Mac, but as long as Rodgers doesn’t rebel, what team wouldn’t want a quarterback that competitive?

We saw signs of rebellion this season. At 35, Rodgers has a right to feel a sense of urgency, but he himself was hardly blameless, missing throws, not seeing open receivers, handing off to Aaron Jones resulting in a game-changing safety. I also wondered what role in the mess now-interim Head Coach Joe Philbin had played as Offensive Coordinator. Were Rodgers’ comments of offensive staleness veiled barbs thrown at the OC in his second stint in Green Bay?

While Rodgers never criticized McCarthy outright, he sure didn’t stand up for him. As Rodgers—deservedly—has influence in the organization, I don’t know how positive a message his (in)actions have put out to potential Head Coach candidates.

I know, it might be nothing—maybe every coach alive wants to work with Rodgers regardless. I hope Aaron learned well from witnessing Favre’s special treatment his last few years in Green Bay. Then again, Favre was about Rodgers’ age when McCarthy was hired, and that was fruitful.

What’s clear is the team must find someone Rodgers will genuinely respect. This probably means someone with NFL experience, as opposed to some hot college coach with a flashy playbook that’s never been tested in the pros.

This is hardly a hot take, but, gun to my head, I’d take Josh McDaniels as McCarthy’s successor.

My son—who was two years old when Mac was hired—had a wild idea: what if the Packers got McDaniels as Head Coach, and the Patriots got McCarthy as Offensive Coordinator? A Belichick-McCarthy partnership could be terrifying for other teams. Wherever Mike ends up, we have zero say in where he takes his talents next. Will haters be forced to retroactively respect him?

I’m a die-hard Packer fan, and I’ll manage to trust in whoever Gutekunst/Murphy/Rodgers choose to hire. But Big Mac’s left some giant shoes to fill.

Thanks for reading. Go Pack,

-Matty

Per Isaac Brock’s banter, he was once gifted one of these.

With apologies to Duluth and LaCrosse, Modest Mouse was great in GB last night! I regretted missing James Leg in Appleton (he’s playing in Green Bay tonight if you did, too [I’ll be filming LFSD and can’t attend]), though I’ve seen him maybe 5 times, and had only seen Modest Mouse once.

MM were hands-down my favorite band when I was a moody 15-year-old. I listened exclusively to their 1996-2001 catalog for a year straight—it was just all I wanted to hear. I fell for rock’n’roll and lost interest in indie rock by the time “Float On” became a surprise mega-hit, and never bought the “Good News…” album, but they earned success and even if I was detached I was happy for them. I did get to see them in ’04, but it was in the horrible echo chamber of Milwaukee’s Eagles Ballroom and I wasn’t not un-sober, so it wasn’t terribly memorable.

Since then I may not have listened to MM at all, not that I grew to dislike or disown them, more that falling down the rock’n’roll rabbit hole was a capital P- capital S- Paradigm Shift for me and other than Pixies and Weezer I didn’t do much looking back.

Sure did last night, though. I wound up going solo, obligated not only to my former passionate fandom, but to the venue itself, as this concert’s slated to be the last event to be held at the good ol’ Brown County Veterans Memorial Arena, where as a pup I’d attended countless UWGB basketball games, my first Bob Dylan concert, a Crosby, Stills & Nash concert, and a WWF house show, among other events.

Before I went I had to drop fliers at Frets for the Black Pussy/Muddy Udders show and was running about 15 minutes late, but not sweating it, nor even listening to MM to get pumped. I planned on parking not-close/for free and hoofing it, meaning I’d miss at least the first 20 minutes. Once in my life I would’ve driven 10 hours to see this band, and here I couldn’t even be on time for their concert in my city. Part of my delay was strategic, though, to check for confirmation the show was even happening—after last-minute canceling the previous two nights’ concerts there was good reason to doubt whether this $30 show would go on.

Pulling onto Oneida it didn’t appear anyone was charging for parking across the street at Lambeau Field, so Good News #1: parking close, for free!

I scuttled through the light rain to a box office area dead and shut down. The security/ticket collectors seemed confused to see me arrive so late, but I spotted someone in the dark behind the glass window. I asked for a ticket, and she gave me one. GAVE. No. Charge. WOW!! Good News #2: free entry! When does that happen?! Surely this was out of pity, as I’d missed half the show.

…But inside, there’s only this quiet disco music playing. My goodness: they hadn’t even started yet! Good News #3 (with apologies to the opening act): great timing!

Show notes:

• About two minutes after I got there they opened with this! I wondered if the unexcited fans thought it was a new song they hadn’t heard, and in general, what the band’s setlist debate is like when it comes to older vs. newer material. Isaac botched the middle guitar part badly, which he’d later apologize for, but at the time I wondered if it meant we were in for a messy one, especially in light of his recent enigmatic cancellations.
• The crowd was pretty stiff, but there were definitely some fun people up front. (During the wait for the encore they were yelling and singing anything from “November Rain” to the ditty from “Great White North”.)
• “Cowboy Dan” was huge and awesome.
• “Tiny Cities Made of Ashes” was truly bonkers. Real highlight.
• When they came back for the encore a nearby fan yelled “Don’t play ‘Float On’!” Not that you’d get to choose, but wouldn’t it be weird if your first/by-far-biggest song was an anthem?
• It was wild to share this experience with several hundred others, as this was a band that was pretty personal to me when I was younger and was selective of who I’d even “show” their music to.
• Whatever song they played to start their encore was real cool. If you know it, please let me know, but I’m thinking it could be a new one.
• There was an unexpected mix of uptight hipsters and too-loose hippies, which is to say I expected the former, but when did hippies get into MM? Guess I missed that, and was a little shocked as I realized how many people there were messed up but not drunk, if you catch me. Kinda cool, though—perhaps Brock’s lyrics will help break their former dispostion to jibbooing.
• I  hadn’t been in the arena in at least 15 years, so it seemed way smaller than it used to. At one point I walked through the concession area where in sixth grade I punched a kid for telling me I looked “like [the brothers in the band] Hanson.” Ah, memories.
• No “Dramamine” or “Truckers Atlas”, but they couldn’t play ’em all. I was grateful for all the older tunes, and without really knowing the post-2001 material (jeez that’s a while ago) I still enjoyed the way it came off live. In my checking for updates on whether the band had canceled, I found a number of tweets disparaging their recent live performances, so maybe I just caught them on a particularly great night. Or, a band this eccentric was just never meant for the masses.
• It felt like we got a unique performance on account of it being a smaller crowd, and because it was infused with whatever weird energy/gravity they carried from the previous nights’ cancellations.

It was confusing, it wasn’t particularly well attended (though I really can’t think of a GB venue that would’ve made more sense—Distillery/Badger State/Backstage at Meyer would’ve been too small, and the arena would’ve been next biggest, it’s just too sizable a step up), but whatever it was I’m grateful it happened and glad I went. If that mystery song I dug is indeed new material, it all unexpectedly adds to my renewed interest in the group. Isaac is still a profound dude who nowadays must be as confident in his weirdness as he is bored by it, and though I took a ~15-year break it turns out I still want to hear what he has to say.

Hello again, Modest Mouse fandom, and bye-bye, Brown County Arena.

-Matty

UPDATE: The song that was new to me was “Sugar Boats”, off 2015 album “Strangers to Ourselves”: