Gettin' Giggy With It

No, the title is not a typo.  Yes, Giggy, not Jiggy. Quite honestly, I really don't know the reference to which Will Smith was referring when he sang that 90's hit Gettin' Jiggy With It, so I couldn't say whether I have been or ever shall be Jiggy.  Giggy, on the other hand, is derived from a phrase that my dear friend Jim either coined or appropriated - it matters not - that refers to a large percentage of us working folk in Palm Springs, CA.  In a nutshell, because of its very nature as a resort/retirement community, unless you work in the Health Care or Hospitality industry, you work gigs, often more than one at a time.  A very different career path than is offered in the corporate world.   While it used to be assumed that there was a certain comfort level in wrapping oneself in the secure blanket and comforting arms of a corporation, economic downturns and subsequent downsizing has morphed that security blanket into a gunnysack and those comforting arms into clubs that all but beat you up, stuff you inside, lift up your helpless body and hurl you to the gutter.  One possible exception would be if that corporation were actually a government agency.  In my experience, however, the security blanket of, in my case local government, remained a gunnysack, but those arms simply knotted up the top and tossed you into a corner to allow your soul to rot until retirement.  But not for me!

At the risk of repeating myself, and I suspect there will be a lot of that in subsequent posts, my husband and I planned our move west over a period of about six years.  We're big on planning.  Of course, as one of my favorite sayings goes, "If you want to make God laugh, make plans!"  Briefly, well as much brevity as I can muster, as a California native, my husband has been looking to return to his home state and family probably as long as we've been together, now over 12 years.  My east coast family has been whittled down over the years to an older sister and her multi-generational offspring (fancy way of saying son, daughter-in-law & grand kids) and a few cousins left in northern New Jersey.  A family trip to southern California in my pre-teen days, plus my love of all things theatrical, including film and TV, planted the seed of a dream to one day live there.  On our first trip to Palm Springs, we realized that this was where we wanted to live.  The various adventures leading up to our eventual relocation will fill several additional posts.  For now, suffice it to say for me, it required a quantum shift in employment lifestyle.  Hence, the gig(s).


For eleven years prior to our departure, I worked for the Information Technology department of the local county government in which we resided.  By the time of my hire in 2000, I had already accumulated over a decade of IT experience in several facets of the field.  By the time of my resignation, I had been pigeon-holed into a very small subset of the discipline, my Supervisor, while my greatest ally and fan, rarely if ever showed up for work and my skills were slowly sliding out of my ears.  The fact that I finagled a long-distance telework plan that allowed me to hold on to my (rather inflated) salary while living in Palm Springs for over three months past my move is indicative of the mind-numbing, apathy-to-an-art-form culture that I escaped.  At the same time, I was not immune to withdrawal symptoms from that very addictive drug known as getting paid lots to do little and still, nearly one year later, have my moments of panic and occasional regret.  But the mental hugging of myself while rocking in the corner is slowly subsiding.  

With the full support and encouragement of my husband , I embarked on an exciting, yet frightening adventure; gigging it.  I successfully dusted off the rust and dust of the last ten years of technical skills decay and started my own computer consulting business that is beginning to bear fruit.  In addition, I will soon be starting gig number two, Weight Watchers Group Leader.  Evidently, I convinced the powers that be that while my target weight, as determined by my physician, is roughly ten pounds shy of their proscribed top-range for my height and gender, my body mass index (BMI) is within an acceptable range.  The idea of working in a position where maintaining my weight within two pounds of my target goal is rather intimidating, but I reckon if the Pan Am stewardesses of the 1960s could do it, so can I. And I don't have to wear a girdle.  Gig number three is still in its infancy, but my plan is to launch a voice over career which by its very nature lends itself to a flexible work schedule and multiple gigs.  Aside from my Theater degree, I've been told on more than one occasion that I have a good voice.  In fact, a good friend of my husband's evidently used to call our house when she knew we wouldn't be home just to hear my recorded outgoing message!  OK, not resume-worthy, but still....


Gig number four?  Who knows?  First and foremost, I'm living the life I want to live in a community where I've bonded with like no other and with the man I love more than life itself.  I've come to accept and embrace the fact that unless you're independently wealthy, retired or in one of the very few industries that Palm Springs and its desert city neighbors offers, the best bet is to Get Giggy With It.


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