I had no idea how great a short work commute would be

Until the outbreak of COVID in March 2020, I maintained a daily schedule much like that of millions of other Americans. Five mornings a week, I would get in the car and drive to my workplace. For a full decade of my professional life, that drive was a considerable one – at least by Northeast Ohio standards – of 30+ miles each way.

For more than a year, I drove a few days a week down to Akron, a distance of more than 40 miles.

There are some advantages to a longer commute, as I enumerated in a blog post  in 2015, but for the most part, it was a big hassle. It gets tedious, you're constantly having to fill your car with gas, oil changes become more frequent, there's always construction, accidents and other traffic snarls, and on and on.

Then, in June 2022, I accepted an offer to join Materion Corporation, a global company based in the nearby city of Mayfield Heights. Let's set aside the fact that, professionally speaking, it couldn't have worked out better. I love the team members with whom I get to collaborate, and the work itself is interesting and challenging.

From a purely logistical point of view, this change has been a godsend. My commute to work, which I make three days a week, is rarely longer than about 15 minutes and involves no highway driving at all. On light traffic days when the stoplights cooperate, I can get there in 13 minutes.

The days I broke 45 minutes to Akron always felt like a win. And 40 minutes was pretty much the norm for the 1,000 or so times I drove to the Vitamix corporate headquarters on Cleveland's southwest side over my eight-year tenure there.

Being so close to home makes it much, much easier for me to get to my various sports PA announcing engagements. It means far fewer times when I need to bring a change of clothes to work and run out of the office at 5:30 to drive straight to a field or gym.

On the other end of the day, not having to leave the house until 7:30am is...well, I know it's an overused word, but I can confidently say it's amazing. Life-changing, even.

An extra half-hour may not sound like much, but it allows me to do everything I've wanted to do in the mornings for many years but couldn't squeeze in without having to wake up every day at 4:30am.

Again, I'm not saying long commutes are all bad. I don't get to listen to the same number of podcasts that I used to, and it's harder for me to feed my classical music habit unless I'm very deliberate about carving out dedicated time for it.

But on balance, for me, short commutes win hands down. I had no clue what I was missing.

I've carried these nine books with me from job to job for the last 20 years

It can sound pretentious to call your job a "craft," but I do consider the writing portion of my vocation to be just that.

Whatever your personal craft may be, you should never stop trying to get better at it. I plan to be working toward clearer, more concise writing up until the day I die (well, maybe I'll take that day off...but not the day before).

There was a time when it was imperative for writers to keep a set of reference books at their desk. A dictionary and thesaurus were de rigueur, of course, but depending on the focus of your writing, there were others on the required reading list.

One was a stylebook, such as the Associated Press Stylebook pictured here. Stylebooks tell you everything from whether to hyphenate certain words to how you abbreviate the states to which nouns are capitalized and which are not. And everything in between.

You'll also find a book of quotations on my shelf, as well as Plotnik's "The Elements of Editing" and the densely populated "Macmillan Handbook of English," 1960 edition.

Here's the thing: These books, or at least most of the information they contain, can be found online -- in most cases quite easily. Technically, I don't need the physical books whenever I have easy access to Google.

But I keep them for a number of reasons, not the least of which is that I still love the feeling of cracking open a book to get to whatever I'm looking for (just as I still love reading an actual newspaper). They have traveled with me from workplace to workplace over the past two decades, starting at the Cleveland Clinic and moving on to Dix & Eaton, The Cleveland Foundation, OneCommunity, Vitamix, and now Goodyear.

There are memories wrapped up in these books. A few I associate with particular work projects, maybe a script or press release of which I was proud. Others take me back to my newspaper days, when the whole idea of writing for money was new and exciting, and I wanted so badly to be good at it.

There's also this: As much as I love and embrace technology, I also believe books hearken back to a time when the written word was more revered and the library card catalog meant something. They represent a pathway to knowledge and experiences otherwise unattainable for most of us, even online.

Books are, in my mind, the genteel medium. And at age 51, I'm just old enough to appreciate that.

(By the way, the slim brown volume tucked between the AP Stylebook and the Macmillan Handbook is "The Word: An Associated Press Guide to Good News Writing." So good. Oh man, so good.)

You can't fake passion

OK, I'll wait a moment while you make whatever jokes popped into your head when you read that headline...

<PAUSE>

I am of course talking about the G-rated passions in your life, whether it's a hobby, a charity, or the focus of this post, your job.

One of the advantages of having worked in so many different places since the early 90s is that I have gained a wide perspective on what makes a great workplace.

The perks are always nice, of course, and I have nothing against those employers who install slides, ping pong tables, gaming consoles, etc. in their office. And hey, no one is going to complain when a bonus check shows up on payday.

But as cliché as it sounds, the best workplaces are the ones with the best people. And more to the point, people who love what they're doing and the organization for which they're doing it.

It is an absolute struggle to work in a place where employees are ambivalent about their jobs. No matter how conscientious you are, you'll feel that lack of energy personally, and it will undoubtedly affect your performance.

One of the first things I noticed about Goodyear is that people there love the company and feel a strong loyalty toward the brand. This may be attributable to the fact that so many of them have worked there for 20, 30 or even 40 years. There are lots of long-timers at the Home of the Winged Foot, and their personal identities are often wrapped up in Goodyear's identity.

In many ways, the same was true when I was at Vitamix. It's a family-owned company that has much to recommend it as an employer, and people are justly proud of the organization and its products.

This is especially helpful as a corporate communicator. When someone loves what they do and you talk with them about it for, say, a company video or intranet article, it's immediately obvious. It's not the kind of thing you can pretend.

If you're not truly all in, I can tell within 10 seconds. And the resulting communication is going to reflect that, no matter how much I try to pretty it up.

I haven't been at Goodyear long enough to have developed that connection myself, but I do hope it happens.

The problem is that, when it does, this blog will no longer be called 5 Kids, 1 Wife, but probably something like "4 Tires, 1 Car."

And nobody really wants to see that.

Holy cow, people drive fast on my commute to work

(NOTE: When I first drafted this post, I didn't put a comma in the headline between "Holy cow" and "people." Then I realized that, without the comma, it seemed to imply that a random group of religious, bovine-like folks were driving fast on the way to work. Which is not at all what I meant. Thus the comma. Please carry on.)

I have a 44-mile drive each way to the office. I don't really mind it that much, though, particularly this time of year when the weather is nice (ask me again in six months after I've done it through snow). It only takes me a few minutes longer to get to Goodyear in Akron than it did to get to Vitamix in Olmsted Township.

My drive goes almost due south down Interstate 271 and Ohio Route 8 before a very short eastward leg on Interstate 76. These highways won't mean anything to you if you don't live near me, but you can probably think of similar stretches near you.

The speed limit on most of I-271 is 60mph before ramping up to 65mph for a few miles ahead of the Route 8 exit. Similarly, it's 65 on Route 8 until you get to what I refer to as the Land of Eternal Construction, where it goes down to 55mph for a long period.

As far as I can tell, these speed limits are merely suggestions to the veteran drivers of 271 and 8, some of whom own cars apparently equipped with warp technology. People absolutely fly on these roads, let me tell you.

If you set your cruise control to 70 through the 60mph stretches, you had better stay as far as possible to the right, which I do. There are farm tractors that will pass you when you do anything less than 75.

Similarly, when the speed limit jumps to 65, oh boy. Don't even think about entering the left lane if you're not traveling well into the 80s through there.

Again, though, you will not see anyone passing me on the right. I never considered myself to be a slow driver, but I give these people plenty of leeway to jet by me on the left.

Once I get onto the 271 express lanes, I get it up to about 72, turn on the cruise, settle into the right lane, and watch as car after car zooms past at speeds I sometimes can't even guess.

I've seen maybe one police cruiser running radar in this area, so it's basically the Wild Wild West.

I have become a grandpa driver at the age of 51. Much like that black Porsche that had to have been doing 100mph this morning, I never saw it coming.

My opinion of you will not be affected by the tires you have on your car

As I knew would happen, I find myself these days walking through parking lots looking at people's tires to see which brand they have.

I recently joked on Facebook that I now judge you depending on which tires you bought, but that's not really true. I don't tend to be particularly judgmental in the first place, since my opinions and preferences are clearly no better than yours.

But I'll admit that, when I check out those four tires on someone's vehicle, I'm rooting to see "Goodyear" and the iconic wing-foot logo molded into the sidewalls.

This is more about rooting for the team I represent than anything else. Michelin, Bridgestone, and other companies make great tires, just as Goodyear does, so it's not like you or I have done anything "wrong" by selecting a particular brand.

Admittedly, I've had other jobs where this wasn't the case. When I worked for the Cleveland Clinic? I judged those who used any other hospital system, including the excellent University Hospitals of Cleveland. At Vitamix? Yeah, even though those machines are crazy expensive, it caused me physical pain to see people making smoothies in a cheap Oster.

But with tires I'm a little more neutral. Or maybe it's that with age I'm a little more neutral. I want Goodyear to succeed, but I'm not going to think less of anyone whose tires happen to be made by a different company.

Admittedly, my opinion of you is somewhat dampened if I see you wearing a Pittsburgh Steelers jersey. But then I remember it takes all kinds of craziness to make up this world.

Being the new guy in the office...again

(NOTE: This post originally appeared here on May 13, 2013, my first day at Vitamix. I bring it back today, my first day at Goodyear, because it all still holds true.)

Today is my first day of work in months. I am, as you may have noticed, extremely excited about this fact.

Part of the reason is that I am very good at being The New Guy.

Having worked at eight different places over the last 20+ years, I'm well acquainted with finding my way through a new office, from figuring out the internal culture to exactly where they keep the coffee.

It's a process of constant adaptation, deference and friend-making.

It's also mentally exhausting, because it takes months to really get everything down. But it's worth the initial effort.

For example, I make a point of being proactively friendly when I start a new job. I'll aggressively seek people out and introduce myself.

Even if, as is the case about 20 percent of time, that person is just a visitor who doesn't even work there. In those situations, they're more frightened of me than anything else.

Mostly, though, you're able to make a good first impression by doing this.

Good first impressions are useful, because your co-workers are more likely to help you if they think you're a pleasant person. It also helps to project an aura of competence, especially if the way you do your job affects the way they do theirs.

I'm pretty good at projecting competence. That doesn't mean I have competence, only that I'm excellent at seeming as if I know what I'm doing.

I also go after what the professional self-help books like to call "low-hanging fruit." I find some relatively easy project to tackle early on, and when I complete it successfully, I make it seem as if it was a great problem I have solved to the long-lasting benefit of the organization.

People always seem to be impressed by this. Or maybe they're just taking pity on me and want me to feel good.

Another great New Guy trick is the come-early-leave-late approach. Everyone knows you're going to be gung-ho when you first get there. And they'll expect the long-hours routine to fade out quickly.

But if you keep it up, people will start to think, "OK, this guy isn't going to bail on us. He's dedicated. I like that."

Or at least that's what I assume they're thinking. They may actually be thinking, "What a total suck-up. This guy will flame out in less than a year."

I choose to believe the former.

The start of a new adventure: It's a good year (get it?)

A couple of months ago, I told you my time at Vitamix had come to an end and I was seeking a new opportunity.

Consider the new opportunity found.

On July 12, I will join the team at Goodyear as Communications Manager, Global Technology. It's a chance to tell the company's story beyond its legacy rubber tires, specifically the work Goodyear is doing to shape the future of mobility.

I'll get to communicate both internally to Goodyear associates and externally to a variety of stakeholder audiences. It's the best of both worlds, and I couldn't be more excited about it.

The team I'm joining is brimming with talent and experience, so there's the added blessing of upping my own game and learning from some truly accomplished corporate communications pros.

And speaking of blessings, I couldn't have expected to find such a great position so relatively early in the job search process. By the time I walk into the corporate offices in Akron for the first time, it will only have been 2 1/2 months since my last day at Vitamix.

I received a lot of support and encouragement over these last several weeks, and it came from a list of people too numerous to mention here individually. Suffice it to say I'm indebted to all of them.

The only question now is whether I'll have space in my new office to house my collection of 20 or so sports bobbleheads. They're a great conversation starter when you're the new guy.

Moving on to a new adventure

After an eight-year run that can only be described in the most positive terms, today is my last day as Director of Communications at Vitamix.

It was my first experience in a corporate setting, albeit a little different than most, coming as it did at a mission-driven, fourth-generation, family-owned company. I was afforded a wide range of opportunities to solve big problems, help set organizational direction, and work closely with the highest levels of leadership.

I sharpened skills I already had and developed a host of new ones, all while earning a master's degree in Integrated Marketing Communications for which I'll always be grateful.

On a personal level, though, the impact was even greater. If I started to name all of the Vitamix people from whose example and encouragement I benefitted, this post would take an hour to read. Suffice it to say that I took far more from these eight years than I could possibly have given to others at the company.

I'm proud of what my team and I were able to accomplish in that time. When you're a professional communicator, you seek out ways in which you can apply your craft to achieve large-scale business goals and resolve important issues. I got to do that almost every day, which simply isn't the case in many communications jobs.

A recent infusion of new leadership led to a restructuring that resulted in the elimination of my position, and to that I can only say, it happens. It obviously isn't what I hoped for, but I firmly believe the company is in excellent hands and is going to make great strides in the next few years to fulfill its purpose and mission.

And really, what do I have to complain about? I am blessed in more ways than I can count, and I have no doubt my next professional move will be an opportunity to make a similar impact on a new organization.

Vitamix will always hold a special place in my heart as the longest-running and most enjoyable position I've held over a 30-year career that has been almost nothing but enjoyable.

But now it's time to move on. I honestly can't wait to see what comes next.

I am the James T. Kirk of suburban dad walkers

A few months ago, I told you about the two-week, 250-mile walk I plan to do this coming June. The walk will take me from Dansville, a village in Western New York, to Olmsted Township, Ohio, the headquarters of my employer Vitamix.

It all has to do with our company's 100th anniversary, and the reasons for it are explained in that linked post above.

As you might imagine, with less than 11 weeks to go before I begin this journey, I am walking a significant number of training miles. Usually 40+ miles a week, which includes what are now double-digit-mile Saturday/Sunday long walks.

When you're going to be logging 15-20 miles a day for 14 consecutive days, your body and brain need time to adjust. A 250-mile walk is no joke.

I am pushing myself through this training schedule in a way I have not pushed myself since I ran my one and only full-length, 26.2-mile marathon back in 2001. Some days my body is up for the challenge, other days not so much.

But I still walk through the not-so-much days because I have decided I cannot fail. I will not fail.

It quickly becomes a battle between me and my body. And it's very much like an episode of Star Trek.

ME (Capt. Kirk): Legs, the pace is slowing. Give me more.

MY LEGS (Engineer Montgomery "Scotty" Scott): WE CAHN'T GIVE ANYMUHR, CAPTUHN! THERE'S NUTHIN' LEFT!

ME: You will increase the pace. NOW.

MY LEGS: YOU DUN'T UNNERSTAN', CAPTUHN. WE'RE GIVIN' YA ALL THEY'VE GOT!

ME: So help me, if you don't start walking faster this minute, I will take off these lycras and let you freeze in the icy 30-degree Northeast Ohio morning.

MY LEGS: BUT THEN YUH'LL BE NAKED, CAPTUHN!

ME: Then maybe you'll learn your lesson! I am James Tiberius Kirk, king of the suburban streets! You will listen to me and you will listen good! Kirk out...

With that crisis solved, I suddenly hear from my eyes, the Lieutenant Uhura of my body whose job it is to communicate potential crises.

MY EYES: Captain, I detect steep hills ahead. Given that we just did a tough hill workout yesterday and the legs are reporting trouble, perhaps we should change our route.

ME: Another mutinous crew member! I will not wuss out. Keep your little warnings to yourself, Lieutenant.

MY EYES: Fine...jerk.

ME: What did you say?

MY EYES: Nothing, Captain.

ME: That's right you didn't.

As I hobble into the driveway and enter my home, this is when the Mr. Spock of my life, my wife Terry, enters the picture. I report to her proudly that I have completed today's long walk, though I may be experiencing intense leg fatigue, which is really nothing.

By the way, this seems like a good time to show you a video. One of the places Terry and I visited on our honeymoon back in 1992 was Universal Studios in Orlando. While there, I coaxed her into recording a simulated "screen test" in which I played Captain Kirk and she played Mr. Spock, and we were digitally inserted into scenes with many of the original Star Trek characters (or at least as well "digitally inserted" as theme park technology could support back then).

Terry not only had to act, she also had to wear pointy Vulcan ears. It was one of the top 5 greatest moments of my life. Take a look:

Wasn't that great? I will admit my portrayal of Kirk will not win me any awards, but really, I feel like Terry as the Vulcan was the real star anyway.

Terry hears my tale of woe and responds in true wet blanket, Mr. Spock fashion.

TERRY: Maybe you should take a day off.

ME: I will hear no talk of days off! Do you know who I am? I say when it's time to take a day off, and no one else. Now excuse me while I go smother my legs in Ben Gay

And so on. This all happens constantly, and I'm happy to say that, so far, I am injury-free and pushing ahead.

It could all still end badly, of course, but I will continue going where no middle-aged dad has gone before (except for the ones who have).

When your resumé is longer than your arm

If you visit my LinkedIn profile (which you're welcome to do if you're desperately bored and lack a viable alternative activity), you will find the "Experience" section there to be rather lengthy.

Part of this stems from the simple fact that I have been in the full-time workforce for nearly 30 years, and one is bound to rack up some experience in that time.

More to the point, though, I've worked for eight different organizations since 1991, and held more than one position within a few of them.

While this is not uncommon in today's economy, I've always been deathly afraid of being labeled a "job hopper," which I most certainly do not consider myself to be.

The sole reason I have had so many different jobs in my career is a very practical one: Since the mid-90s, I've been the sole source of income for my family of seven people. When you are in that role, as much as you want to count "professional growth" as a driver for seeking a new job, your primary motivation is a larger paycheck.

It's as simple as that. Until recently, I've always sought out higher salaries in order to provide for my wife and children. Now, with two of the kids out of the house and two more within a few years of following suit, income is not the catalyst it once was.

Don't get me wrong, I want to save up as much for retirement as I can. But for the first time in my career, I have no need to constantly calculate the next big career move.

Every day I report to work at Vitamix sets a new record for me in terms of time spent with one company. I have happily served as the organization's Director of Communications since May 13, 2013, which means I'm at 7½ years and counting.

If I have my way, I will work there another 15 years or more.

I recognize, however, that it's not entirely up to me. The company has a lofty purpose and corporate mission it seeks to fulfill, and if I'm not constantly contributing fresh ideas toward achieving strategic goals and objectives, I will be shown the door.

This sort of involuntary separation has happened once in my career, and the trauma of it is still fresh. "Trauma" may seem like an overblown word choice, but I don't know how else to describe it. Losing your job unexpectedly is a tough thing for anyone to deal with, and I never, ever want to go through it again.

In any event, I have great admiration for people like my brother-in-law Dave, who has worked for the Swagelok Company here in suburban Cleveland for 31 years. Those who have the skill and tenacity to stick with a single organization that long are to be commended, as far as I'm concerned.

Seriously, if I'm so blessed as to get to 10 years with Vitamix, I think it will be cause for a national celebration. Check with me in the spring of 2023. If I'm still there, it will be green smoothies for everyone!

In June I'm going to walk from Western New York to Cleveland, and I need to get in shape for it

It must be "250 Week" here on the blog. Yesterday I told you how I was duped out of $250. Today I'll fill you in on my plan to walk 250 miles.

So my company, Vitamix, will be celebrating its 100th anniversary in 2021. This surprises a lot of people, many of whom assume we couldn't have been around before 1980 or so. But it's true. Vitamix (which wasn't actually called Vitamix until the mid-60s) was founded in 1921 by William G. "Papa" Barnard, the great-grandfather of our current president and CEO Dr. Jodi Berg.

Since 2017, I have been planning the various elements of our 100th anniversary celebration in my role as Director of Communications. We'll be doing all kinds of things, both internally and externally, to mark this milestone, which only a very small percentage of businesses reach.

One of those activities is my little walk. Back in 1938, members of the Barnard family joined a man named Bernarr Macfadden on a 265-mile walk from Cleveland's Public Square to Macfadden's "Physical Culture Hotel" in the village of Dansville in western New York.

Macfadden was the Jack LaLanne of his day (if you're old enough to get that reference). He was preaching the benefits of exercise long before it was cool. He hosted these long-distance walks every year for a period of time in the 1930s, starting from a different city each time. 1938 marked Cleveland's turn.

Anyway, I plan to recreate the walk by myself this coming June. The thing is, the Physical Culture Hotel no longer exists, nor is Vitamix (then known as "The Natural Food Institute") based any longer in downtown Cleveland. So my plan is to start in Dansville and make my way westward to Vitamix HQ in Olmsted Township, Ohio. We'll promote my walk through our employee and public-facing social media and communication channels to try and bring some attention to the Vitamix 100th anniversary.

(By the way, the distance is slightly shorter than the 1938 walk because of the existence today of certain walkable roads that are more direct and weren't around 80 years ago.)

The trip should take me 15 days, assuming I can walk an average of 17 miles a day. This, it turns out, is no easy feat. Walking or not, that's a long distance to cover in one day when you have to get up again and do it the next day. And again the next day. And again the next day. And so on.

So I've been walking almost every day an average of 30 miles a week to build up my stamina. My training walks are almost always right around 15 minutes a mile. I would imagine we'll have to back that off to 16 minutes or more when the time comes in order to prevent injury, which is a real concern when you're 51 years old.

I also have to drop some weight. I have been steadily gaining since I was down to a very skinny (for me) 166 pounds back in 2016. I'm off to a good start there, but there are still pounds to shed so that I can minimize the impact on my joints from so much walking.

There are perhaps two morals to this story:

(1) You should always try crazy things. It will keep you young, at least in your head.

(2) Don't allow yourself to get out of shape because getting back into it when you're no longer in your 20s is tougher than you would think.

My only concerns? Getting enough coffee every day and figuring out where to pee while I'm walking (these two things obviously go hand in hand).

My theory of leadership: Get good people and get out of their way

I never set out, in either my career or my personal life, to be a leader. It just kind of happened that way.

At Vitamix, I head up a team of three very talented communications professionals. I inherited one and hired two, and I couldn't have been more fortunate with the mix of ability and dedication that resulted.

At home, of course, I'm theoretically the co-head of a household of seven people, though I recognize aptitude when I see it and leave many important executive decisions to Terry. My job, in those instances, is to support her. I'd like to think I do it well.

I'm also the president of the Wickliffe High School Girls Soccer Boosters. A more appropriate title would be "coordinator," because my role is largely to channel the vast energy and ideas that emanate from the three wonderful ladies who are my fellow officers.

What I have learned, in all of these situations, is that effective management starts with recognition of what you yourself do well and what you don't do well. I know my limitations. I know what I can and can't do, and I don't pretend that my talents extend any further than they actually do.

I will make suggestions and coach when I can, but if you ever find yourself reporting to me in any capacity, I promise you two things:

(1) I will not micromanage. I trust that you are a responsible adult and that you have the ability to do your job well. That's a given. I'm going to step aside and let you do that job. I expect you'll deliver fabulous results (or else I wouldn't have hired you) and keep me apprised of what's going on.

(2) I will go to bat for you every chance I get. One of my responsibilities is to take some of the slings and arrows for you. Some you'll know about, others you never will. And that's the way it should be. You don't need to be distracted by things that are beyond your control, or by people who may or may not understand what you do and how you do it. Let me run interference for you.

If I ever fail to do either of these things, or if I'm letting you down in some other aspect of our working relationship, I expect you will let me know.

And that about sums up my philosophy on leadership.

So far it has worked out. Check with me again in two decades when I'm thinking about retirement and I'll let you know the final result.

New refrigerator = new life

You don't realize how much your major kitchen appliances shape your existence until you buy a new one.

We recently purchased a new refrigerator and I'm still getting used to it. I interact with the refrigerator several times a day, and when the contents get rearranged, it throws me off.

"Wait, where do we keep the cheese now? And why are my apples way over here? This shelf moves? And this one doesn't? Why would they design it like that? How do you make it spit out ice cubes instead of water?"

And so on. My list of questions and sundry annoyances grows daily, but there's no denying it's a beautiful refrigerator. It's black. Very black. None more black.

My wife has decided that that's the direction in which all of our kitchen appliances are going: black. Which is fine by me. I just need to keep track of where she puts the yogurt now. And the fact that our freezer is now on the bottom rather on the side. That's world-changing, by the way. I won't get used to that for at least three years (you think I'm kidding).

A few years ago we bought a dishwasher from a guy named Flint Parker. That's an absolutely true story. "Flint Parker" should be rasslin' dogies out west, not selling overpriced appliances to suburban white people.

But sell appliances is what Flint Parker does, and he sold us an expensive one. I still love it, but it causes Terry no end of grief because she's constantly having to pull bits of food out of the spray arm nozzles so that our expensive dishwasher will actually, you know, wash dishes.

I've finally gotten used to the space-age, touch-sensitive buttons on the door of our dishwasher, which means it's about time for Terry to buy a new one. A cardinal rule in this house is that Daddy is never to be comfortable with any of the living arrangements. Once I grow accustomed to something, the family switches it on me. I can't keep up, and I think this amuses them. I'm like a walking psychology experiment to these people.

Anyway, apart from the refrigerator and the dishwasher, the only other really "major" kitchen appliance is the stove, and I almost never use it. I'll boil water occasionally, and once a decade I'll bake something, but really, Terry is free to swap that out whenever she likes. It's the one thing that won't alter my existence much at all.

But the Keurig? And the Vitamix? Those are staples. Don't mess with those. I need some consistency in my life. And besides, I'm still too busy trying to figure out where we keep the salad dressing now.

Is 'loving' your job overrated? Or even realistic?

Today begins my eighth week of employment at Vitamix (makers of the best darned blenders in the world, I'll have you know).

I'm at that stage at which everyone asks, "So, how do you like your new job?" To which I almost invariably reply, "I love it."

Which is true. Or at least it's true insofar as I really do enjoy working there.

But do I "love" it? I don't think so. "Love" is a very strong word. There is an extremely limited number of people and things in the world that I genuinely "love."

In that sense, then, I have never had a job that I loved.

Especially if, by "love," you mean that the job completes or defines me in some way. I don't want to be defined by my work.

The real question may actually be, "If financial circumstances didn't force you to work, would you still keep your job?"

And the answer to that, for me, is an emphatic "no." This is nothing at against the wonderful Vita-Mix Corp. (for some reason we add the hyphen when referring to the company's full, legal name). It's just that I've never had a job I would have done for free or if I had been independently wealthy.

Now, I don't claim that my experience and perspective are in any way universal. There are undoubtedly people who "love" their jobs by any definition of the word.

But what percentage of the population do they really comprise? 5%? 10%? 20%? I can't believe it's any more than that.

You hear all the time that if you love what you do, it will never seem like "work." And I have to tell you, my job at Vitamix is a great one. It's challenging, engaging, interesting, and ever-changing. And Vitamix itself is probably the best place I've ever worked in terms of benefits, recognition, interesting people, and adherence to goals and values in which I strongly believe.

But again, I "work" there. It's a job. And if I won $50 million in the lottery today, you can be sure I would turn in my notice tomorrow.

Do others not feel this way? I'm certainly willing to believe some don't, but that's my perspective.

I would be interested in hearing yours.

A new job, a new beginning, a new blogging schedule

So after four months of unemployment, I have a new job.

It makes me so happy to type those words, I'm going to do it again:

So after four months of unemployment, I have a new job.

Starting Monday, May 13, I will assume the title of Director of Communications for Vitamix, a company of which I'm hoping you've heard. They make very high-end, high-quality blending equipment for home and commercial use, and they're growing by incredible leaps and bounds.

This extended period of unemployment was the first of my life, and it was at times a nerve-wracking experience.

Now that it's ending, I can see how it helped me. It was a great time to reassess, get healthier, refocus myself, bring back this little mess of a blog, etc.

But when you're in the middle of it, you have a hard time believing the people who tell you, "Oh, trust me, it will be the best thing that ever happened to you!"

It's difficult to see the light at the end of the tunnel when you don't even know how long the tunnel is. And when you're the sole source of income for a family of seven.

But like I said, now that it's over, I have to say these four months were good for me. I'm ready for gainful employment.

My new job is one with a high level of responsibility. I have three people reporting to me (all of whom, fortunately, appear to be talented pros), and there are a lot of expectations for my team to transform the way Vitamix communicates to its internal and external audiences.

No small challenge, but one I welcome.

Anyway, with the return of full-time employment in my life comes the usual examination of one's priorities and schedules.

For example, I've determined that after 11 years of soccer coaching and administration, I have to step down from my beloved Wickliffe Soccer Club. It's an organization I hold near and dear to my heart, and I'm proud to have had the chance to serve it for more than a decade.

But it's time to hand the coaching and leadership reins to others. They don't need my old self hanging around messing things up anyway.

There's also the matter of this blog. I determined months ago that I would not give it up once I got a job, even if you people all went away and I was just writing for myself (a distinct possibility of which I'm keenly aware, believe me).

But writing every weekday isn't going to work, either. So what to do, what to do?

What I've decided is to promise three posts per week starting the week of May 13th. I'm guessing those would appear on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, though we'll see what schedule works best. And occasionally we'll try to throw in a Tuesday or Thursday post, as well.

I realize this is all far more important to me than it is to you. And I want you to know how intensely grateful I am to the 150-200 of you who regularly check in here daily to read my senseless raving. It's a very, very, very small corner of the Internet, but one I hope that brings you some pleasure and even makes you think from time to time.

So let's see how that works and go from there.

In the meantime, go out and buy yourself a Vitamix machine. You won't be disappointed.