If this is how family members treat each other…

“I just wanted to call and welcome you to the family!” This was what the person who was going to be my new boss said when he called me at the end of June last year. I was ecstatic. I had been able to get a job with the federal government where I would be able to serve my county again. Sure, I was going to have to go through the process of getting another security clearance, but I was a disabled veteran, ethics professor, and someone with no criminal history or any foreign contacts. Plus, I’d done my research. I read that clearances took an average of a few months. I was told that I would probably even be given an interim clearance so I could start work while waiting for the official adjudication process to play out. I think it was a Friday afternoon when the hiring official called. That would be the last stress-free weekend I would have through the present day.

It took over two months, but I was finally told that I wouldn’t be given an interim clearance. No reason was given. I was told it wasn’t uncommon for people to be denied interim clearances in the post-Snowden, post Navy Yard Shooter days. I wasn’t happy, but I figured that the process was almost complete anyway, so I couldn’t complain too much.

Fast forward to November. Now, I was getting a little ticked off. All interviews had been completed and whenever I emailed the security office where I had been “hired,” I was told that things could come at any time. It was OPM’s fault, they said. There was nothing to do but wait. Well, I waited. And I waited. In the meantime, the person who had offered me the job retired. The person who was my assigned clearance adjudicator went on to do something else (I only knew when I tried to email her and my email was bounced back). Still, the security people told me my case should be adjudicated by the end of the year.

When the new year came with no news, I reached out again. This time, I was answered by a representative in Human Resources who said that Security wanted him to be my new point of contact with any questions. He seemed nice enough – and what else could I do?

Here started the weekly dance of me emailing my POC and him emailing back and saying that nothing had changed.

Eventually, I decided that enough was enough. I reached out to the individual who was my retired boss’s boss. Surely, if I had been offered a job, there was a need for me to start work. Someone would be an advocate for me. Wrong answer. Even this individual, while saying they were looking forward to having me start work, said that nothing could be done. 

At this point, I emailed my person in HR and begged them to man-up and tell me if I was no longer wanted, so I could cut ties and look elsewhere with clear resolve. No such luck; I was told that I was still wanted.

Since that time, I have reached out to the director of my hiring agency and the OPM Ombudsman only to be ignored by each. At this point, I don’t have much hope of ever being cleared to start the job I was offered. So, why am I writing this? Well, there are three reasons: First, I have done my best to hide my anger, sadness, confusion, and feelings of hopelessness. Unlike people who probably don’t deserve a clearance, I express my emotions in words. Second, though extremely unlikely, maybe someone will see this and try to help. Lastly, I want anyone else going through this process that feels like they’ve been crapped on for the better part of a year to know you aren’t alone. I understand that the security clearance process has had its problems. However, screwing over the people you ostensibly want to give clearance to isn’t a part of the solution. I love my country and still want to serve, but this is ridiculous.

Looking for the Good in the Infuriating

According to the Infinite Monkey Theorem, given enough time, monkeys on typewriters should eventually compose a letter to me letting me know I've obtained the interim security clearance needed to start the job I accepted in June. Evidently, this happens right before they finish the last act of Hamlet, as they're still banging away as I wait for the ability to start my job.
Nonetheless, I forced myself today to look for some positive aspects of an otherwise miserable situation:

First, if I had been working already, I wouldn't have some across the practically mythical dog walker in our area, Raphael. You see, Raphael takes dogs on walks that last well over an hour per walk for the relatively paltry sum of $14 per walk. We had been paying another walker much more than that for walks that were 20-30 minutes. Plus, Raphael quickly schooled my hyper pit bull who loves to test anyone new we bring into the apartment. It was actually nice to see Jack go from "Crazed Tasmanian Devil" to "Submissive Puddle of Compliance" without Raphael even breaking a sweat. This alone could make having to wait to start work worthwhile, in the long run.

Next, as I was reminded today, I have been reacquainted with patience and perseverance. Now, it may not be by choice that I've honed these qualities, but they can come in handy, so I hear.

Third, when I start working, I'm going to have to dress like a grownup again. I can't lie and say that I haven't enjoyed spending the summer in shorts so far. I'm going to sweat like Anthony Wiener when his wife found his cell phone anyway, so I might as well do it in comfortable clothes.

Last, I've come to the recent revelation that, since I've had more time to devote to my part-time gig teaching Ethics at Southern New Hampshire University, maybe I have been a better teacher and provided something that will be of use to my students down the road.

Now don't get me wrong, I really want and need to be able to contribute more monetarily to our financial situation. But until the monkeys get their Shakespeare together, as least I have a few things going positively.

Because Speed Dating is Too Subtle

As seen on the 600 block of M St. NW

Executive branch representatives now taking rights away from my dog

It isn't enough to know who I call, when I call them, and where I am when I call. No, now you want to keep my dog from exercising his right to be comfortable. This power grab must be stopped!

Allow me to explain.

As we often do, this morning, my dog and I went for a walk to see my wife at her office close to the White House. As it was warm day, I decided to let Jack take a quick dip in one of the fountains in Lafayette Park on our way back, so he could cool himself down a bit. This wasn't the first or second time he's jumped in the fountain. Today however, the White House equivalent of Groundskeeper Willie jumped off of his riding lawnmower to run over and yell at us. He was rather adamant that Jack was not allowed to cool off in the fountain.
Because the fountain waters remind me of a witch's cauldron - green and with random objects floating around - I almost agreed that it was would be wiser for Jack to find somewhere else to cool off. Still, I didn't appreciate it that the Executive branch has turned to picking on my dog when there are a few, more pressing issues. Heck, even in the park, there are more pressing issues. What about the people who have figured out a way to live in the park, directly in front of the White House, without paying the outrageous rent that comes standard with living in the District?
You know, no one ever does anything when Jack jumps in the fountains in front of the Capitol. Then again, it seems no one does anything at the Capitol regardless of what's going on in the world around them...

NoMa, an Area in Transition

I was walking the pup over in the field at Pierce and First St. NE this afternoon when we came upon this scene. I didn't touch a thing. It perfectly illustrates the competing forces in the neighborhood.

I take full responsibility for doing the things I'm not going to tell you about.

I want you to know that I accept complete responsibility for my actions. I knew better and I did not live up to the expectations I place on myself. My school has decided to suspend me for (insert nebulous idea that doesn't elucidate, but makes things sound about as bad as jaywalking, e.g. "poor academic judgment"). I'm going to do whatever it takes to rebuild the trust of everyone around me, so I can get back to being the most privileged person on campus.
So goes the statement of currently-former Notre Dame Quarterback, Everett Golson.
From the statement, I can only guess that he showed up late for a test, forgot to cite a source in one of his academic papers, added when he should have subtracted, or threw a paper airplane in class. Those are poor academic judgments. I'm just glad he's taking full responsibility, even though he isn't owning up to what he did, which means he isn't taking full responsibility. I'm sure I just missed the part where he takes full responsibility by doing more than just saying so.
Meanwhile, SEC schools are licking their chops. Integrity - Schmintegrity. We don't care if we have to pay you to play, if you sexually assault women, or if you steal.
We're going to give you a simple test to see if you can play quarterback: You get three chances to spell S-E-C. We'll even let you use your iPhone for help. If you and Siri can come up with the answer, congratulations, you're a starting quarterback for the best conference in all College Football!
So don't you worry about coming up with fancy statements to explain your misdeeds, Everett. Come down South where the coaches can teach you how to be a real man.

You're Hailing a Cab, Not Stalking a Mouse.

Walking the pup around Mt. Vernon Square this morning, we happened to spy a woman who, ostensibly, wanted to catch a cab. Now there is no shortage of cabs around the Convention Center there, but this lady evidently enjoyed the "hunt" more than the actual "kill".
We watched three attempts at employing her less-than-successful strategy. Here's how it went:
She was standing on the corner. That was a good start. However, she wouldn't raise her arm until a taxi got parallel to her. By that time, the driver wouldn't see her, or it would be too late, as the driver hadn't even started to slow down. It appeared as though she didn't want the driver to know she wanted a ride until the last possible second, nay, until at least one second too late.
I have no idea if she ever got the ride she was looking for. She was amusing at first, but that quickly faded. We went on our merry way.
It got me to thinking though.
This woman's plight translated into a lesson I need to remember while job hunting: I can't sit around and try to catch a job opportunity as it passes by. I have to be proactive and make sure employers know I'm looking. I have to wave my arms and keep my eyes peeled, or someone else will grab my job. And I need to look like a good candidate. Whether it's a cabbie evaluating potential riders or an employer evaluating potential employees, it pays to look like you're the one to take a chance on.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a cab to catch.