I attended an evening seminar last week that featured a well-known economist who is often featured on CNBC. It was an impressive gathering of real estate moguls, bankers, captains of industry, and entrepreneurs in general. I was honored to be invited as one of the boys, since there was a disproportionate number of women present. Not to worry. I am not intimidated by this type of event that inevitably begins with a networking cocktail high above Manhattan with outstanding views of other, equally impressive skyscrapers which used to be filled with employees.
Which brings me to the tone of the evening. A bit of unease pervaded the room. Smiles that were a little less confident than one is used to, with a touch of wariness upon introduction. Though I didn't see any resumes, I did meet some well-dressed people who are out of work.
None of us wants to hear that someone has been laid off, especially if that person comes home to dinner in your house every night. Inevitably though, we all have heard of, or experienced someone close to us who has been "made redundant." Sounds like buying more than 10 items on an express line. Oops...sorry, you have to go to that other line.
There is an excellent book about this sort of thing by one of the best mystery writers of this generation (said by the WSJ). The book is called The Ax and it is by Donald Westlake. It was written in the 1990's last recession and concerns a middle management guy who is fired and decides the only way to get the job he really wants is to kill the competition...several layers of resumes stand in his way. Not an easy task. While the subject matter is macabre, the premise is brilliant and the writing is extremely amusing.
On a bright note and one to increase optimism for the ending of our current recession is a small article that appeared in the New York Times the other day. Ariston Florists, a high-end shop on West 17th Street, boasts a 10% increase in the sale of roses in this recession.
"My customers say a rose means reassurance," said Mr. Barbagianis, owner of the florist. "They are looking for basic beauty. They want something that expresses love and happiness, that reminds them of good times in the past--and, they hope, good times to come."
This is a sweet story, and shows how sensitive we tough-minded New Yorkers really are. I didn't see any roses at the economist's seminar, but there was a strange comfort in knowing that we are all in this together. People I know are reaching out to say they need help, and those of us who are still OK are sincerely trying to help with leads or referrals, or just trying to give moral support.
I intend to buy a rose from the Korean grocer on the corner from time to time. He needs to keep his job,too, and it will be a reminder to wait for the good times to come, one sniff at a time.
