Sunday, July 24, 2005

Bedtime with the Beatles We recently picked up a lullaby album called "Bedtime with the Beatles," by an artist named Jason Falkner.  It's a good idea that actually lives up to the concept.  I dreaded hearing it for the first time - I was afraid it would be filled with treacly strings, annoying Teletubbie keyboards, the same crap versions of lullabies that you get of most babies' toys.  Much to my amazement, it's a great album. The concept is simple.  Take Beatles' songs, and change them into lullabies without messing around with them too much.  He picks obvious choices ("Blackbird,""In My Life,""he Long and Winding Road") and some completely unexpected lullabies ("Across the Universe, The Fool on the Hill," "Michelle").  Falkner is touchingly faithful to the original, and uses as much of the original as possible: the repeated guitar theme in "Michelle," the complex instrumentation of "Here, There and Everywhere," the bass line that follows John Lennon every time he says "I'm only sleeping," in the song of the same name.  My favorite track, strangely, is "The Fool on the Hill."  It's such a great singalong song, and it has the right repeated melodies and simple structure that marks most great lullabies.  Plus, it's fun to sing the "wo-o-o-o" part, especially if Oliver's awake.  The lyrics are included in case you didn't memorize every single Beatles song growing up.  (Oddly enough, I seem to know almost all of the lyrics to every song.) Jason Falkner is a journeyman musician in the best sense.  He came up with seminal 80's bands the Three O'Clock and Jellyfish, and went on to play with and produce everyone from Beck to Aimee Mann to Weezer.  He's even gotten to play with Paul McCartney, using this album as a demo tape of sorts.  Word is that Sir Paul quite enjoys the album.  Anyway, if you have a little one, and you don't want to scar them with Raffi and Kidz Bop, go get this.  8:20:03 AM     Speak up!  []

The Proposal - Part Two The big boss brought me into her office and closed the door.  She praised my desire to be with my kid, expressed how much she admired it, and then said no. Here's the thing, though.  She didn't say no, we can't do it.  She hemmed and hawed, felt really bad, and then said that golly, the budget just doesn't seem to allow for it. Sorry. I realized then that this wasn't a refusal.  This was a negotiation. Earlier, I had spent some time drawing up numbers.  I am a well-paid admin assistant - I had far more skills than they had hoped for, so they raised the pay by $500 a month to hire me.  If I went part time, they would still be able to pay for a 40-hour admin assistant and not spend much more than they would by paying my usual salary. So I drew up some numbers, for the remaining fiscal year (September-June): cost of my current salary, if I stayed on full-time. cost of my salary at 20 hrs/week plus an administrative assistant at 40 hours/week me at 20 hrs plus admin asst at 35 hours a week The largest different was about $6700.  So they could end up with two staff people for the price of one for not very much more.  And then I showed how many new memberships would pay for the difference in pay.  This was a strategic move:  part of my wish in going part-time is to concentrate on cleaning up their member databases and start doing some aggressive membership recruitment.  If it works, then my position pays for itself. So I handed her my breakdown.  She seemed fascinated:  my boss lives in budget breakdowns.  Twice a week, she asks my supervisor to provide some budget calculation or another.  So it really seemed to move her that I had run the numbers for her.  But then she started turning negative again.  I just don't see it, it's going to be really tough, our budget's really tight.  She mentioned how hard it was to take care of a kid and work - she had apparently helped to watch a friend's baby from a few weeks up to nine months, and was amazed how much constant work it was.  (Yes, I did resent her telling me how much work parenthood was, but only a little.)  But she said the same thing twice.  I had listed a number of tasks I could do from home:  data stuff, news updates, electronic updates.  "I can't imagine that would be twenty hours of work."  She said this twice. I leaned forward and said, "If we brought it down to fifteen hours a week, would that make it more enticing?" She looked up for a minute.  "Why, yes.  Yes, it would." So we're still negotating.  If I work fifteen hours a week, it saves them nearly $300 a month on my salary. Plus it saves them benefits - I don't qualify for any health benefits if I work less than twenty hours a week.  She's going to talk to me sometime next week - again, she's got some numbers to crunch.  I think I'll help out by crunching a few numbers myself for her.   I think this might work, folks.  It might be only a two-month or three-month commitment at the beginning, but I think she's going to say yes. This was the first time I had done a hard negotiation for a job.  For anything.  And let me tell you something -  I have never felt more confident, or more powerful, in a meeting ever.  I had other backup options in case she rejected it outright.  I had numbers.  I had a proposal.  I was holding all the cards.  And I was fully prepared for any possibility.  I have come so far since being fired from that machine shop six years ago, the final straw that drove me into non-profit work.  I have come from begging for jobs to literally writing my own job description.  But I think the main reason I felt so strong in there is that I knew I was doing the right thing.  If this didn't work, I would find another way to take care of Ollie at home.  I am supremely confident that I can find other work to keep our bills paid if this doesn't happen.  And I know that I'm supposed to do this, so now all that remains is working out the terms.  But the confidence came from  - how do I say this?  I was doing what was right.  I felt righteous.  That's it.  For once, I didn't feel desperate at all.  I felt righteous.  7:53:45 AM     Speak up!  []