When I grow up

Boring logistical basics of a career choice

I figure now is the time to escape the thrilling world of corporate ghostwriting before a middle manager somewhere decides AI can take my job. US unemployment is at 3.9%. Demand for blue collar jobs seems endless, even if high interest rates have narrowed the decades-long funnel of investor money into tech. (So much for “learn to code!”)

As far as I’m concerned, this is the moment to find the job I’m going to do for the rest of my life. My finances, which lately involve charging obscene rates for short gigs and then burning a lot of free time, are not gonna suit a family of three. I can get mad at Immigration for keeping me in a long distance relationship, but honestly, the wait gives me a cushion to get my act together. And since I prefer jobs that your kid can point to in Busytown, I plan to move to structure fire. I’ve been applying for way more than a year.

I don’t understand the process at all. Either I’m bureaucratically dumb, or the other applicants already volunteer at fire departments and understand the system. LA City Fire emailed that they had lost my fingerprints and CJO-PIQ form. "Please note that the CJO-PIQ and CJO-PHF forms linked in the CJO letter are different from the PIQ and PHF forms you previously submitted at your Pre-Background appointment," they helpfully reminded me.

Ultimately, structure fire means I have to decide what city I’d like to live in, and what people I’d most enjoy hanging out with for 20 years. I left wildfire because it pays less than I could make at Home Depot and most importantly, because once you turn 37, you are no longer eligible for a retirement. It’s a federal law meant to prevent doubling up on military pensions. If you don’t have a permanent position by age 37, you can’t get your 20 years before mandatory retirement at age 57, so the computer won’t even consider you for jobs. Even just a squad boss role becomes off limits. So when I turned 38, I knew I’d started my wildfire career too late, and it was time to start the next career immediately. I’ve been in limbo ever since.

Structure fire departments take forever to hire. I managed to get a conditional job offer from Los Angeles City, out 11,000 applicants. They’ve told me that the background investigations, medical, psych, and police polygraph may take a year, and my eligibility runs out in June. They asked me to reapply in advance, just in case.

Apparently, LA in particular cares about the integrity of applicants, since we could end up ventilating smoke next to LeBron James’s million dollar necklaces. The theory is, they can train CPR, so they hire for honesty. The process works like this: two LAPD detectives will scour my life and question 10 references, ask them for more references, and then use those answers to seek inconsistencies in my application. (You’ll note the online record of this newsletter is now password protected.)

They said they recently dropped an applicant because he told the doctor he’d had a shoulder injury in 2018 and the medical paperwork showed it was 2019. Dishonesty, bureaucratically proven. If I dotted every i and crossed every t in that paperwork, I’ll be flabbergasted.

Otherwise I’m interested in Anchorage and Portland, both of which aren’t hiring this minute, but should open applications soon enough. So it becomes a big question of which type of life I want, and how much money I need.

After hiring, there’s fire academy, which will entail lots of exercise and memorization. Then, you spend a year or so on probation, during which they can fire you for no reason. Pass that, avoid injury, and you have a career. Just 20 years to a pension.

So the terrifying, and I mean terrifying, danger, is that if I end up deciding I’m not cut out for this job, I will have wasted years. And them I’m gonna be 50, asking my wife and family what I should do when I grow up.