Marty Nemko's Recent Articles

Bill

Where Do I Belong?

“Oh no, she’s taking out the belt again. Mommy, no! Mommy, what did I do wrong? It didn’t hurt anything.”

I was four and had ridden my tricycle on the wet concrete in front of our apartment building.

That was far from my last welts: Come home late: welts. Play with a tennis ball in the house: welts. Talk back: lots of welts.

School was no safe haven. It was boring and I couldn’t sit in my seat: I stared out the window at the Esso clock, happy each time the clock changed to the next minute. I’d get up and wander the classroom. Teachers kept telling me to sit down. Bored again, I’d do things like tilt my chair back to the maximum point and occasionally beyond: Crash. No surprise, I got Unsatisfactory in “conduct and social behavior” and more welts.

The kids didn’t like me either. I was a show-off. I didn’t realize that showing your abilities would piss kids off. My head became a noogie receptacle. A noogie is a punch to the head in which the middle joint of the fist’s middle finger is raised to concentrate the impact.

Atop the physical pain was the emotional. I hated being a reject: not getting invited to birthday parties, getting the fewest Valentine’s Day cards, getting chosen last if at all for basketball even though I was pretty good.

I coped by withdrawing. By the time I was in high school, I felt like a boxer who had been pummeled round after round—I was reluctant to come out for more. So I played basketball by myself, even bowled alone. I read most of the 45 Hardy Boys books, then anatomy books in a failed attempt to quell my fear of death.

I think that fear stemmed from my mother being the 20^th century’s first health-food nut: She sprinkled wheat germ on everything and wouldn’t take me to restaurants because “You don’t know what junk they put in.” She even warmed the orange juice because “cold isn’t healthy.”

In college, I still had a hard time finding my place. There was no major I loved. Fraternities seemed too juvenile. I wrote for the student newspaper but never got into the “in” group. I felt safest in the gardening club. Its focus was less on the social and more on the plants. That felt good.

That brings me to work. When I was a kid, I wanted to be a doctor but then there was the hypochondria and all those hard science courses. Lawyer? I like to talk but not argue. The business world? I don’t care much about profit. Non-profit? Too slow. Government job? Even slower. Self-employment? Like I said, I don’t care much about profit but maybe that’s not so bad—If I cared about profit just enough to make a decent living, maybe I could develop a following.

But self-employed at what? I don’t know anything. It’s not like my parents had a business I could take over. Sell coffee from a cart in an office building? I’m no status-seeker but that’s a step too low, even for me. I wish I could be a singer, writer, or actor but don’t like the odds. Besides, I have no talent.

They tell you to do what you love and the money will follow. Well, what do I love? Not much. I like a lot of stuff, but love? That’s a high bar.

Okay, what do I like? I like food but a career in food would be dangerous. I’m already a little overweight and Bill’s Chocolate Cheesecake, oh-oh. Shaw said that food is the sincerest form of love, but his BMI must have been 100.

I like music but what am I going to do, open a nightclub? Too much investment, too much risk. Besides I like classical music. Not much demand for that. And listen to hip-hop all day? I’m not that cool.

I like roses. Back East where I grew up, roses bloomed just two months a year and you need to spray them with an arsenal that would have impressed Saddam Hussein. But when I came to California, I was amazed that that many roses, that romantic flower factory, don’t need spraying, bloom eight months a year, and a plant can last for decades.

But how in the world could I compete with the megacorporations whose economies of scale let them sell roses cheaply to granny.

Wait a minute: granny. Hmm. Grandmothers buy lots of roses but many more don’t because growing them is physically demanding or they’ve downsized to a senior-living apartment.

I remember seeing small pots of tiny rose plants in the supermarket and they’re not marketed at all—Without any signage, the micromini roses are mushed between the ferns and the philodendrons.

And because micromini roses are so small, I could grow thousands in my small backyard. I’d buy the best varieties from leading rose breeders as cuttings and root them. I could multiply them for pennies a piece and sell them for dollars apiece—Even cocaine doesn’t have that big a profit margin. (And I thought I didn’t care about profit?)

Let me tell you how it played out over the years. I tried to pitch the big-box chains but got screened out before I got to talk with anyone. Their questionnaire asked whether I had a $10 million insurance policy. Hah! Indemnification? I didn’t even know what that was.

The independent nurseries also said no… until I made them an offer they couldn’t refuse. I’d let them have the first dozen plants for free and give them a sign “Granny’s Roses: small effort, small space, big pleasure,” with a picture of a grandmother tending roses in a window box.

Fast forward. I’m now 70. I did well enough that my little business outgrew my backyard, so I found a grower two hours away, Romance Roses, that would grow them in quantities for a buck apiece.

And recently, I allowed myself something well-suited to a not-social person, especially as we get older: a doggie. Because my puppy has a mind of her own, I named her Hillary: Bill and Hill.

The Choir

Hillary, a puffy tank with corgi legs, became my “on-the-other hand” conversation partner.

For example, in bed, I said to Hillary, “On one hand, how could anyone be against peace? On the other hand, violence works. If we didn’t fight the Nazis, today we might be shouting Sieg Heil. On one hand, shouldn’t we blow up Putin’s army? It would stop that modern-day Hitler. On the other hand, it could cause nuclear war—We should let the sanctions work. What do you think, Hill?”

My next “on-the-other-hand” related to my little business: “Hillary, on one hand, Romance Roses grows quality roses and only charges me a buck apiece. On the other hand, they just claimed that a whole field of my I Love You rose burned in a fire. It was my very best rose—odd coincidence. Should I change growers?”

Hillary tilted her head trying to understand, then turned away and went back to sleep.

As befitting a 70-year-old, I creaked out of bed. Stepping over the strewn New Yorkers, I picked up my phone and started filling orders for roses, those so small that even infirm people can grow them. With each plant, I include a heart-shaped stake.

I’m far from rich but live decently thanks to some thrift: “Why live in a fancy neighborhood when serviceable ones are half the price? Why buy a new car when an old Toyota with years of reliable life left is 90% less? Why pay a fortune for a painting when you can get a wall calendar with 12 prints of priceless art for the price of a frozen pizza?”

My self-congratulation evaporated when I saw the pop-up on my phone: The lab results from my wellness exam were in. I thought, “Everyone is just one blood test from a death sentence.”

“All normal!” Even though I’m agnostic, I exhaled, “Thank God.” I’m too aware that few 70-year-olds get “all normal.”

“Now, Hillary, to your health: It’s time to make that spay appointment. Sorry to have to nip you in the bud.”

Hillary finally toddled out of bed, looked at me with feed-me eyes, and giving her breakfast became top priority.

Next, it was time for a walk. Hillary sniffed the dog park’s gate. “After you’re spayed, Hill.” But she tugged and the park was empty so I chanced it. I monitored her for a while and when she still had the dog park to herself, I turned back to my phone, writing cute thank-you notes to customers: “You chose the Sexy Granny rose. Hmm. ðŸ˜Š”

Not a minute later, I looked up in horror as Hillary was enjoying a cocker spaniel’s rhythmic attention. I had been immersed and so didn’t notice Casanova’s arrival. I tried to reassure myself: “Hill is just five months old, probably too young to get pregnant. But I thought, “Hot Stuff, the party’s over.” It wasn’t easy to get Hillary back on the leash—She preferred cocker company but finally, homo sapiens prevailed.

During our walks, I’d often look at my phone and, for months, all was fine. But one day, as we turned onto a street, a stealth-quiet electric scooter slammed into me and I crumbled. After three weeks in the hospital and a $20,000 bill despite being “insured,” I would, below the waist, be permanently paralyzed.

To distract myself from my future, I stayed busy—no more strewn New Yorkers, no dishes in the sink, no laundry piling up, everything company-clean: Like in The Glass Menagerie, I was preparing for a gentlelady caller who’ll never come.

Embarrassed to see people, my social life consisted mainly of PrisonerPenPals.com and yet more on-the-other-hand talks to Hillary. For example,

“Why do I keep my shipping guy? He’s lazy and makes lots of mistakes. Maybe I should pay him to not work for me. On the other hand, he comes from a tough background and if I fire him, he’ll probably go back on drugs. What should I do, Hill?”

“Why do I work so hard? On one hand, I’ve always believed that life’s value lies mainly in productivity. On the other hand, my work means little: So what if fewer people buy roses? Should I have more fun? What would be fun? I still have most of the oxycontin from the hospital. On the other hand, I don’t want to risk getting addicted. What do you think Hill?” Hillary stared, then padded away.

My healthy diet gave way to new food groups: chips, pizza, and chocolate. The baby carrots rotted. I drank yesterday’s coffee. My apartment got so cluttered that my wheelchair sometimes stalled. Once, it toppled and I might still be on the ground if not for the pizza delivery guy.

When I ran out of the oxycontin, time having chiseled away at me, I found a doctor who’d give me a prescription for something even stronger: fentanyl.

One night, while sleeping, I heard Hillary groaning and then a choir of whimpering. I woke to see Hill having given birth to four squirming puppies that were nuzzling aside her. I stared, experiencing one of life’s few events that deserve the word “awesome.” And I cried. It somehow triggered a flood of gratitude for the miracle of life.

I reached for the bottle of fentanyl, crawled out of bed, into my wheelchair, and flushed the pills down the toilet.

Iris

Opioid-free, the carrots were fresh again and the New Yorkers weren’t strewn but piled. Guilty about not reading them, I considered cancelling but didn’t. I nurtured Bouncy, Bella, Einstein, and Jumbo the sweet runt, and posted on my neighborhood forum, “Four sweet, poodly-corgiyish puppies, free to good homes.”

My vetting process was worthy of Harvard but I had an easy pick in Iris. Seventy-three, she was home a lot, had an enclosed yard, had dogs all her life, lost her Daisy after 17 years, and wanted one more dog. I also liked that Iris’ first choice was Jumbo.

Iris walked with a cane, which made me feel less embarrassed at being in a wheelchair. I also liked her understated look: the short gray ponytail and just a little peach lipstick. Plus, for the first time in many years, a woman showed interest in me: She looked into my eyes just a fraction more than required. She asked me an unnecessary question: “You keep your apartment quite nice. Do you do it yourself?” And then another: “May I ask how you ended up in a wheelchair?” I explained and then asked, “Iris, would you like a cup of coffee?”

She cradled Jumbo and lowered herself into a chair.

“Iris, what do you enjoy doing?”

“Well, I’m in a short-story club. We’re all older and when we read novels, we tend to forget what we read, even just yesterday. With a short story, we can finish in one sitting.”

Because she couldn’t think of anything to say, she asked the same question: “And what do you like to do?”

“I’m still working. Let me show you. I wheeled to the few roses I still kept in my backyard and gave her one plus a heart-shaped plant stake on which I wrote, ‘Iris.”

Embarrassed, she changed the subject and found it easy to just ask, “What else do you like to do?”

Looking down at my now useless legs, “I used to hike but now I talk yet more to Hillary. I like to express multiple sides of an issue.”

“For example?”

I decided to show Iris how I talk to Hillary. “Hill, come here.” After just two requests, she waddled over. “Hillary, on one hand, billions of people have faith in a loving God and have done so for thousands of years. On the other hand, if God is all-seeing, all-powerful, and loving, why would that God let me get run over while walking my dog? Why do millions of people die of natural disasters? Then there are the babies born with a horrible disease and die leaving grieving parents.”

Iris said, “Even my priest said that she sometimes wonders if God exists. Yet don’t we all need to believe in something bigger than ourselves? And when you look at nature, couldn’t there be a grand design? Bill, what’s another example of your on-the-other-hand talks?”

“On one hand, it hurts me to see fat cats have mansions, yachts, and luxury penthouses while other people starve. On the other hand, when we redistribute money and effort from society’s contributors, we all suffer. The people most likely to cure cancer, to be wise leaders, to invent the next Google, will likely be people who already have contributed a lot. I mean, if you had ten solar farms, wouldn’t you invest more in the farms that produced the most?”

Iris said, “My head says to invest in the best but my heart feels for the least among us.”

I was feeling something I hadn’t felt in decades: infatuation. And, stressful by nature, I had to air my most worrisome concern. “Iris, I’m paralyzed from the waist down, with all that implies.” Iris sighed, “To be honest, if we were to get intimate, I’d consider that a relief. I too am not what I used to be.”

After an hour of conversation, light about family, friends, and pop culture, heavy about mortality, the meaning of life, and that we both had secrets that could go to the grave, she led my wheelchair to the bed. We kissed, hugged, and fell asleep, butt to butt.

Romantic Roses

I woke up surprised to see another person in my bed but then remembered and dropped back onto the pillow, musing, “Yesterday was lovely but do I really want a relationship? I’ve gotten used to sleeping just with Hillary, being mainly with Hillary, doing what I want, when I want. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Maybe Iris will get up and say she regrets the whole thing.” But when she awoke, she smiled at me.

Over a breakfast of chocolate croissants and rich coffee, I shared that dilemma about Romantic Roses, which claims that a field of my best rose had burned. I could find another grower but it would be more expensive.

Iris asked, “What do you think of our driving the two hours to Romantic Roses to check them out?”

When I called there for an appointment, the owner hesitated before too-enthusiastically saying, “Sure!”

The monotonous drive down 101 into the Central Valley gave Iris and I plenty of time to talk. For example, we revealed the top item on our bucket lists. Mine was to give a two-minute talk on the pros and cons of Cancel Culture.

Iris asked, “What are they?”

“Pros: Fewer lies, less malevolence. Con: Censorship of politically incorrect ideas. It reminds me a little of Stalinist Russia.”

At the top of Iris’ bucket list: “Dinner with Louise Penny, who wrote a novel with Hillary Clinton. Penny’s novels are comforting: simpler times, wise protagonist, always-solved clever mysteries set in a close-knit village.”

After snaking through farm roads, we arrived at the sign: “Romance Roses Inc.” with a logo of a man on bended knee, offering a bouquet of roses.

The rocky path to the office was less inviting. It would have been tricky even if I wasn’t in a wheelchair. The office was a shack with the office sign askew. There was no doorbell so Iris opened the torn screen door and knocked. The owner’s voice demanded, “What?’ When we identified ourselves, he transformed: “Oh, welcome. Come on in.”

The owner ushered Iris to the plastic patio chair in front of the dented metal desk. I wheeled aside her and the owner parked himself behind the desk, a moat.

I said, “Tell me about the burned roses.”

Too casually, the owner said, “Oh, an employee lit a cigarette, tossed the match, walked off, and by the time I saw the fire, it was too late.”

Iris asked, “Would you mind showing us the area?

“You’ll see it. Walk wherever you like.”

Iris and I bucked along the path and tractor tracks, she steadying my wheelchair. And yes, one of the fields was burned, the plants unidentifiable. I sighed, “Let’s have lunch and go home.”

Iris said, “We hadn’t seen a place to eat but maybe if we drove a little further.” We did, and a half mile later, set back from the road, was a field of rose plants—mine.

“I should sue the bastard. On the other hand, it would cost me a fortune for a lawyer and Romantic Roses, Inc. probably can afford a fancy firm that would paper me into submission. It’s just a few thousand bucks of roses. Maybe I should just find another grower.”

Iris said, “I like that other hand” and took his.

Secrets

We strolled the riverfront, I in my wheelchair, Iris with her cane, Hillary the furry tank, and Jumbo, Hillary’s and Casanova’s love child.

Iris said, “How nice that they’ve developed this area. It has created jobs and fun for tourists.”

“On the other hand, there have to be better things to build than yet more gift shops, wine bars, and frou-frou bistros.”

Disliking conflict, Iris changed the topic. “My reader’s group focuses on short stories but we just read an essay, Go Gentle into That Good Night, by, of all people, the movie critic Roger Ebert. It began with something like, ‘I’m not scared of death. After all, I was content before I was born and I’ll be as content after I die.’”

I admitted, “What I’m afraid of is dying. Most people have to endure so-called ‘procedures’ and drugs that have side effects worse than the…”

That was the moment that Iris tripped on a crack and dropped to the sidewalk. The passerby didn’t respond to her cry, perhaps because he was wearing headphones. I pulled her up while she pushed down on the wheelchair wheel.

“How hurt are you?”

“I’m not. It’s just that the arthritis has made my legs weak.” She exhaled.”

“What?”

“It’s progressing—What an inaccurate word, “progressing.”

“Fast?”

… “Well, that’s a secret I wasn’t ready to reveal. Fair’s fair: Talk.”

“Well, I’m PC on many things: I’m pro-choice, pro gay marriage, and not very materialistic, but there’s one thing: I believe the world is worse when we have reverse discrimination.”

“But do we?”

“Today, commercials and the entertainment media usually portray white men as evil or clueless, shown the way by a superior minority or woman. And many employers and universities see white men as undesirable, their accomplishments tainted by ‘privilege.’”

“But shouldn’t we compensate for the legacy of slavery and lingering racism and sexism?”

“Iris, that cure is worse than the disease. When we allocate resources on anything but merit, not only do the applicants resent being unfairly rejected, the coworkers suffer, all of us suffer in the quality of everything from customer service to airline pilots, health care to our leaders. The three words I most believe in are ‘merit above all.’ I’m afraid to say that to anyone, even you.”

“But Bill, isn’t there another hand? Shouldn’t we give extra to the least among us? Or less lofty, won’t being generous prevent—forgive the sanitized term— social unrest? ... Well, you and I have tough secrets: I with my progressing arthritis, you with your verboten view.”

I opened the front door, Iris held my eyes, and we went in.

Marry?

There were a few months of river walks, on-the-other-hand chats, and septuagenarian sex: lolling in bed, playing as much with the snuggly Jumbo and feisty Hillary as with each other. There were the gin games and the guilty pleasures of pizza, cinnamon rolls, and my favorite: chow fun—greasy, delicious noodles.

Of course, there were arguments:

There was the bedroom temperature contretemps: “Why don’t you get an electric blanket?” “They’re not safe.” “Come on, the chances of an accident are tiny.”

There were the discussions triggered when we were watching TV or a movie: Has wokeness gone too far?

And the debate about who Iris should leave her money to: “Your kids already have plenty of money, plus they treat you like crap. Give it to a charity with big ripple effect, like that low-income school’s mentoring program for gifted kids.”

But mainly, our relationship was good, very good, and I wondered whether it was time to “shit or get off the pot.” What a horrible expression, I thought.

As we were making coq au vin, I mused, “On one hand, we’re not getting any younger and it would be good to count on each other in our old age. And I do love her. Plus, as a 70-year-old paraplegic, it’s not like a horde of amazing women will be knocking on my door. On the other hand, what if, like in so many marriages, things change after the wedding. Divorce would be so painful and expensive. Why not just continue living together?”

I decided that, rationally, marrying didn’t make sense, but one night after a gin game filled with lots of laughs, a little gin, and Jumbo particularly nuzzly, to the background of Alexa playing Abba, I succumbed to the other hand.

“Iris, I wish I could get out of this wheelchair and down on my knee but … I was sure I’d spend the rest of my life alone and then, this kind, pretty woman walked through my door to adopt a puppy. Now, how would you feel about our adopting each other?”

The wedding was at the river walk in front of a sculpture of an old couple holding hands on a park bench. It wasn’t your typical wedding:

The guests included mere acquaintances who made our life a little better. There were clerks at Trader Joe’s who not only broke the law in allowing Hillary and Jumbo in but petted them. There was the butcher who cut beef bones into slivers so that Hillary and Jumbo could enjoy yummy gum massages without too many calories, and the Amazon driver ever delivering pleasure, who used her income to support her true love: writing a novel about a delivery driver.

The officiant wasn’t a cleric but Iris’ daughter.

And here were our vows:

Me: I promise to take care of you after your hip replacement.

Iris: I promise to take care of your prostheses and wheelchair.

Both: We promise to stay together as long as it’s wise.

Me: I promise to try to work out our differences and not let fights unnecessarily escalate.

Iris: Me too. And I promise to look for the good and not unduly dwell on the other hand.

Both: And we promise Hillary and Jumbo that we’ll be a loving mommy and daddy.

Me: I love you, Iris.

Iris: And I love you, Bill.

Iris petted Hillary as I picked up Jumbo, whereupon Iris’s daughter announced, “I now pronounce you husband and wife.” And the five of us hugged as the guests clapped and then stood.

Transcript: Work with Marty Nemko: Oversupply of STEM and Law School Graduates. Under-the-Radar Careers

We Have an OVERSupply of STEM and Law School Grads. Under-the-Radar Careers.

Marty: I was driving along the freeway, and I saw the umpteenth sign and other marketing effort to try to get more young people to major in STEM—science, technology, engineering, and math. And I remember having read an article quite recently that said that, in fact, we already had an oversupply of STEM majors, which are hard majors. And so, I did a little more research, and I found out that, indeed, we have a tremendous oversupply of such people.

If you Google “oversupply and STEM majors”, you will see study after study and report after report—everything—from the Daily Kos, which just recently a couple days ago did a report on it, to Slashdot, which has a very long technical report on the oversupply. On the conservative side, the Center for Immigration Studies did a long report on it. And then, if you look also at the Bureau of Labor Statistics, there is a gross oversupply of STEM majors.

Then why are politicians, especially, and educators continuing to push this old, no longer accurate news? Because it’s part of a message that says, “We need to compete with China. We need to compete with India. From the bottom of our economic and socioeconomic status people to the top, we can compete.”

But, you know, we’re talking about human lives here. Every single human being who would not have otherwise majored in those hard subjects—science, technology, engineering, and math—who chose in the absence of the marketing campaign to get more STEM majors, realized they are not that great in Calculus, not that great in Physics in high school, let alone, what happens when they get to college and they’ve got to do topography and stochastic processes. We force them, manipulating them, using techniques Madison Avenue uses to get us to buy cigarettes, to get kids to major in them who would otherwise not major in those fields because they realized they’re not their strength. It’s crazy.

If there aren’t even jobs in vaunted STEM, where are the jobs?” That’s the focus of today’s show.

We’re going to talk about under-the-radar jobs that even in an era in which good jobs are ever declining, as ever more jobs are part-time, temp, automotive, roboticized, and offshored, there are still at least in our lifetimes—certainly for the next 10 to 25 years—pockets of opportunity. And so, we will focus most of this show on where those opportunities are.

But, before I do that, I want to get the negative out of the way—this is important. Many people who are bright, the people who tend to listen to public radio, the college educated, graduate degrees, or whatever, they’re going to say, “Well, it’s either science, or it’s law.” And yet, I have to tell you that there is a gross oversupply of lawyers as any of you who know, who have tried to get a law job now. So many lawyers are working as paralegals or project part-time temp workers. The days of the white-shoe, fat-cat lawyer are now relegated to the realm of Hollywood movies.

Yes, if you graduate from Harvard Law School, and you are very money-driven and willing to work—have billed 2200 hours a year and sleep on your futon in your office--es, there are jobs for you. But, remember, that is the most rarified tier. Most people who went to law school went to places like Golden Gate University, or McGeorge School of Law, in Sacramento, or Cal Western, in Southern California. They didn’t go to Stanford Law School or even Hastings Law School, let alone Harvard Law School.

I have a massive list of careers that are growing. I want to read you a small section of an article that came from one of the most authoritative sources you’re going to find for lawyers: It’s the American Bar Association Journal. It’s called “The Law School Bubble: How Long Will it Last if Law Grads Can’t Pay Bills?” That’s the title, and I’m only going to read a section of it for your planning purposes—roughly two minutes.

“For Andrea, a past decision to ensure her future in law has left her in a stressed and distressful present. Concerned over how it might affect her job prospects, she would not allow the use of her real name. And there’s reason for concern: She’s been laid off twice since her 2009 law school graduation, including from a position where she earned just $20 an hour at a small firm, practicing as a licensed attorney. For the 29-year-old . . .”

And, by the way, think about how many lawyers are 40, 50, 60, trying to find a job, and you know how it is there—there’s a preference to younger people.

“For the 29-year-old, who has supported herself since college, the financial repercussions of law school may amount . . .”

Financial repercussions of law school—it almost seems like a contradiction in terms. It should be the financial benefits, and yet, here is the American Bar Association Journal saying, “The financial repercussions of law school may amount to the “ worst investment of her life, despite a degree from a second-tier school . . .”

We’re not even talking about a third-tier law school like a Cal Western or a Golden Gate. Second tier law schools would be like UC Davis or SUNY, the State University of New York; these are not bottom-tier law schools.

“And despite a degree from a second-tier law school and a resume that boasts a position on law review”—law review is the elite at that law school—“and coveted a summer associate position.” This was not a bottom of the barrel law graduate.

Now, the article quotes her: “‘I deferred my loans because of economic hardship the first time’, said Andrea, who borrowed nearly $110,000 to finance her education. ‘After that’, she falters, ‘They might be in forbearance . . . accruing interest . . . I just don’t know.’

“Andrea’s situation is far from unique. In 2010, 85% of law graduates from ABA accredited schools boasted an average debt load of $98,500, according to data collected from law schools by U.S. News. At 29 schools, that amount exceeded $120,000. In contrast, only 68% of those graduates reported employment in positions that require a JD.”—that’s a Juris Doctor at law degree—“Nine months after commencement, less than 51% found employment in private law firm.

“The influx of so many law graduates—44,258 in 2010 alone, according to the American Bar Association—into a declining job market creates serious repercussions that will reverberate for decades to come.”

To those of you who are just joining us, I’m reading an article from the American Bar Association Journal called “The Law School Bubble: How Long Will It Last if Law Grads Can’t Pay Bills?” I’ve been talking about where the jobs aren’t like the STEM jobs—science, technology, engineering, and math—where despite the incredible marketing hype, are in fact in gross oversupply already, and the gross oversupply will likely continue. I also wanted to talk about this law school oversupply, and then we’re going to talk about where the jobs are. I’m just going to finish this segment of the article.

“Heavy loans now threaten to consume the future earnings and livelihood of the nation’s young lawyers. Yet, even as the legal market contracts, more than 87,900 potential candidates vied for 60,000 seats at the 200 ABA-approved law schools.

“Youthful over-optimism, bleak job prospects for college grads, and the entry of several more universities and for-profit businesses into the legal education business are some of the root causes for the supply-and-demand imbalance in entry-level lawyers.

“Very few critics, however, have studied the part played by the federal government through its student loan policies in creating a law school bubble that may be on the verge of bursting—one strikingly similar to the mortgage crisis that cratered the economy in 2008.

“Direct federal loans have become the lifeblood of graduate education, and they shelter law schools financially from the structural changes affecting the profession. The bills are now coming due for many young lawyers, and their inability to pay will likely bring the scrutiny of lawmakers already moaning about government spending.

“As student groups continue to lobby the federal government for increased transparency, the lawmakers are bound to ask a very simple question:”—they’re not, but they should; that’s my editorial: “Why should the U.S. government, through the Department of Education direct-lending program, continue to make billions”—with a B—“of dollars of loans to law students when structural changes in the legal market”—that means decline in the number of jobs that are available.

“Why should they continue to make billions of dollars of loans to law students when structural changes in the legal market suggest that a large portion will lack the earning power to repay those loans?”

That’s just a segment of that wonderful article. But I wanted to make the case for why those of you—yourselves or your family members or your children—who are blindly acting as though it was still 1970 and say, “Oh, science and technology, I want to major in that. I’ll be sure I get a job; oh, I’m not a science person; I’m going to major in law school,” then major and go to law school—are probably wrong, unless you’re a superstar. Superstars can do whatever they want in any year--the top few percent who can chose whatever they want. But the rest of us mortals need to be more, well, realistic.

And that takes me to the positive side of the topic of today’s show: Where the actual jobs are for mortals, especially those that are little known. I mean, we’ve heard again and again, that there are jobs in nursing, or there are jobs in accounting—but you’ve heard all that before. So, I want to start by talking about, excerpting, some ideas from an article from AOL called “18 High-Paying Careers that You’ve Probably Never Heard of.”

By the way, I’m well aware dear listeners that you are there, and just after I offer a few of these, I will go to the phones and invite you to call in. So, instead of giving generic advice about where the jobs are, I can help you come up with what makes sense for you to pursue and, more importantly, the specifics of how to do it, because an idea is nothing without a plan.

But first, some high-paying careers you’ve never heard, or at least thought of. These actually came out of Reddit, which was then republished by AOL.

Most people don’t think of being air traffic controllers, but it pays a good living. An air traffic controller makes $200,000 a year—so something under-the-radar you don’t normally think of. We think doctor, lawyer, nurse, teacher, social worker, non-profit activist; we don’t think of air traffic controller.

A variation on that—a tower technician, who works in those towers, both at airports; and also, apparently, in very tall buildings, there are technicians who work on them.

Skipping through to a few others that are specifically non-science-oriented . . .

Court stenographers—I used to think that automated technology was going to replace the stenographer; apparently, not. It’s a three-year program, but if you’re proficient in grammar, if you have strong language skills, if you have solid finger dexterity from, maybe, playing an instrument or video games and you’re willing to work in a law firm, it’s a fine career. You work from home a lot of the time. You’re rarely starting before 10 AM. You make your own schedule. And, you make a very good salary; $80,000, $100,000 is not uncommon. Under-the-radar, people don’t think about that.

Let’s see what else.

I know it’s gross for many people, but, unfortunately, one of the few things that are inevitable are death and taxes, and most people cringe at the thought of work in the funeral industry—and I do. I’ve read Jessica Mitford’s old book about the death industry and how unsavory and dishonest they often are. But there are a few moments when human beings are more vulnerable when a family member dies. And somebody who makes primary the ethics of being comforting and helping people make wise not overly expensive decisions, at that point, is a worthy occupation.

If you can deal with it, it may even help you to deal with death. I know some person who was very afraid of death, and she ended up deciding to work in a hospice as a volunteer, as a way of coping to it, of adapting to it or making sense with it in some ways. So, maybe, even if you are afraid of death, the funeral industry—done right—is extremely ethical.

Those are careers that are under-the-radar, that are nonetheless viable, nonetheless ethical, pay a good living, not offshore-able.

And so now, I want to turn to you. I have many, many more, and I will pepper the show with careers that are likely not overcrowded, that pay well, that are ethical, that are not oversupplied like the STEMs—science, technology, engineering, management, or law. But I do now invite you to call.

You are listening to Work with Marty Nemko. My mission in life is to help you and also to discuss the micro societal issues about work. But today, it’s about you, all about you. So, if you or someone you love is career stuck, whether it be because you’re not sure what you want to be when you grow up even if you’re already 60, or you are already in your career and unhappy and wondering whether you should change jobs, change careers, or you simply have any kind of work-related problem; even in your business—I really like helping people—or either thinking about starting a business and have an idea they want to run by me—kind of like the Shark Tank TV show but kinder. If you have any kind of question related to your work life, I call them “three-minute workovers”; sometimes they take ten; I don’t care. All I care about is helping you.

The phone number here at Work with Marty Nemko is 415-841-4134; that’s 415-841-4134. And while I’m waiting for the calls to come in, I have, as I said, some more careers that are not STEM and are not law, and they’re not likely to go away. And this was slated to be, I think, the 40^th fastest growing career that doesn’t require a bachelor’s degree. I’ll be talking about a few of those—one is called “purchasing agent”.

These are people who purchase machinery and equipment, and tools, and part and supplies; basically online; it could be from all over the world. Again, under-the-radar—and many of them don’t even need a college degree at all. Wages tend to be very good. Projected job openings are good. Nobody thinks about being a purchasing agent.

Okay, I’ve got a lot more, but I’ll give the phone number one more time. If you or someone you love is stuck and wants a new career idea, or you’ve got the career idea and don’t know how to execute on it, or you’re in a career and you’re unhappy, or you’re in a business or thinking about a business and want to know what I think about it, the phone number here for a three-minute work-over on Work with Marty Nemko is 415-841-4134; that’s 415-841-4134.

And now, to the phones—welcome to the show. It’s your turn on the air. How can I help?

Caller 1: I’m 63 and semi-retired, and I want to get into voice acting. I’ve always liked—

Marty: I’m going to stop you right there. Forget it. It doesn’t exist; that’s a scam. There are countless people who spend the $10,000 for the voice training program to create their demo and whatever, and they never even come close to making enough money to even pay back the cost of their course. It’s a hobby because, right now, the field has changed dramatically. Millions of people are like, “Oh, it’s easy. I’ve got a nice voice. I’m going to go do that.”

And you know what happens? Millions of people have their demos, and now, it’s all online. There are websites that post jobs for voiceovers for perhaps 50 bucks. You’ve got to submit your demo for free, and then you’re competing with many applicants. The training has become a bit of a scam, unless if you’re a famous actor. If you are James Earl Jones, you can get all the voiceover work you want. But if you’re somebody who’s a wannabe, who starts, forget it, dude.

Caller 1: Thanks, buddy. I appreciate it.

Marty: All right. But do you want me to help you come up with an alternative?

Caller 1: [laughs] No, it’s okay. I mean, that was very informative. I appreciate it.

Marty: I need to be straightforward. But do it for fun if you like. If you like the idea of doing voiceover work, play, go; you can use the microphone on your computer or whatever. Make some mp3 for the fun of it. Frankly, that’s how I got in this radio show 25 years ago. I just had a little home cassette recorder. My daughter had a friend over, and I said, “Let’s play radio talk show host.”

And I said to my daughter Amy, “What do you want to talk about?”

She said, “Birth order.”

“Cool.”

So, I just turned on a 5-dollar microphone, put it into an old fashion cassette deck, and said, “Okay, tell me, are you first born?”

I just asked some common-sense questions and made the recording. I sent it to KQED and KALW. And I heard from KALW. They said, “Well, you’re raw, but you’re not too terrible,” and I got a show. So you’ll never know—but start simple. Don’t spend 10 grand on a voiceover training program.

Caller 1: Thanks. You saved me a lot of time and money. I appreciate it.

Marty: Thank you. All right, all the lines are lighted up. Let’s go back to the phones. Welcome to Work with Marty Nemko. It’s your turn on the air. How can I help?

Caller 2 hung up.

Caller 3: Hi. I’m 53 years old. I’m looking for a new career. I’m in that category where I just can’t decide what to do. Currently, I’m looking at a program that’s in patient navigation.

Marty: You’re moving them from their beds, for the testing room, for their MRIs—that kind of thing?

Caller 3: No, like guiding them through the healthcare system—whatever.

Marty: Great.

Caller 3: It also overlaps with advocacy. You’re more likely to hear it called, “patient coordinator”. The field is supposed to grow. A lot of the jobs are for RNs that want to change, and I’m not an RN

Marty: Here, I can be optimistic, unlike with the previous caller. There is such demand for this, and the system is going to get ever more complicated with Obamacare. There are contradictory and overlapping rules—state regulations, federal regulations, local regulations, Obamacare rules, insurance company monsters that they often are. So the need for a navigator will never be greater as the boomers age.

Sure, they’ll prefer RNs because they know the ropes but it doesn’t mean there won’t be jobs for non-RNs. Just choose the best certification program and network your butt off while you’re in the program to make connections. You work your butt off in fear that you’re not going to be employable because you’re not an RN. And I would bet on you. You’re at a right age; being older is a plus here. A 27-year-old advocate is not going to be seen as credible by the patient. Here is where age can be a plus.

But you’re sounding flat. If you have the drive, if you’re willing to use the fear to motivate you to do it the way I outlined, I would bet on you. Does that make sense?

Caller 3: Yes, absolutely.

Marty: I can’t think of a more important job. When someone gets a cancer diagnosis or diabetes . . . And now, they’ve got to win their way through the system? Oh, my god! You are a guardian angel. Have you researched the different programs that exist and know which are good?

Caller 3: Well, the founder of the idea—or whatever—he’s in New Jersey; I’m in California. I don’t know. I’m skeptical. I looked at it online. The program—its ten modules. It takes months to do, and it’s $1,000.

Marty: That’s not a lot. The ones that worry me are the ones who charge $10,000—and they do. They are more likely to be just in it for the money.

Caller 3: I talked to one woman doing it. She went into her own business—which is most common,—and she loved the program at Sonoma State. It’s interactive. You’re in classes for six months, and they do placement of everyone in an internship clinical . . .

Marty: Awesome! And that’s local. Why wouldn’t you do that?

Caller 3: I just, you know, need some confidence-building.

Marty: Let’s talk there.

Caller 3: Because my employment hasn’t been good for the last . . .

Marty: Let’s move forward. There are plenty of people who failed; I have failed many times in my life because I’m too intense. I get fired for being too bold. It doesn’t make you a loser.

Let’s see, if you were to be your best self and trust your best self, what would you do differently in this next job to ensure that? You know, you don’t have to be perfect, just good enough—that’s all I ask. We need healthcare advocates—end of story.

Marty: What’s your first name?

Caller 3: Sherry.

Marty: Cherry.

Caller 3: Sherry.

Marty: Sherry. So, Sherry, what do you need to do this time in the preparation, the training, and the way that you work, so that you’re at least good?

Caller 3: Well, I think it would be wise to go to as many association events.

Marty: Good. Which do these you need to stay vigilant about? Your work ethic—is it already great, or do you need to work harder?

Caller 3: It’s good.

Marty: We’re going to keep going down the list—knowledge of the science involved, studying, becoming good enough at the science.

Caller 3: Well, that would be where I would gain strength because it’s brand new, so it would be interesting to research and talk to people. I mean, you could talk to anyone. You could meet someone whose father had cancer or something, and talk about their experience.

Marty: No, what I mean is you may need to know a certain amount, for example, about the science involved when somebody’s got cancer—being able to be a good researcher to find out what kind of cancer; who are the really best specialists? Where does the insurance company turn you down? Doing that, you don’t have to be a physicist to be a healthcare advocate. But do you think you either have the existing knowledge or will be driven enough to get knowledgeable enough about the particular condition that the person has?

Caller 3: I don’t have any aspect of it right now.

Marty: That’s making me a little nervous now. The key is aggressive drive to be willing to fight the insurance company, to fight to get an appointment for your client who desperately needs an opinion from the expert. You need both the aggressiveness and the internet research skills and knowledge of the insurance company.

Caller 3: And it’s working with the families of the patients.

Marty: The compassion thing isn’t enough.

Caller 3: Their belief systems may not match your view or your opinion on what they should do, and you have to be . . . I don’t know. I don’t know.

Marty: You have to be a good communicator. You have to be a good influencer.

Caller 3: Yes.

Marty: As I’m listening to you, I am getting a little nervous. It’s a demanding job. It requires being very credible. You’re probably going to be self-employed. And you don’t feel entrepreneurial to me; you’re hesitant.

Caller 3: No, I’m not. I want to get into a clinic, something like that.

Marty: I’m wondering whether you might be able to function as an advocate for patients without being officially an advocate.

Caller 3: If you don’t know something, you can contact another navigator. They work very collaboratively, even the ones in private practice, they’re—

Marty: Even though you may find support, in the end you can’t always be turning to support; you’re going to be like this high-maintenance basket case. I’d encourage you, with a clear eye, to look into it, to job shadow a couple of people who do it, and then after you do that, ask yourself if, with training, that you have the abilities to do this job at least reasonably well. Have you done that already, or do you need to do some job shadowing?

Caller 3: No, I’m getting ready to do that.

Marty: That’s what you’ve got to do. Okay, I thank you very much for calling Work with Marty Nemko.

Caller 3: Thank you. Bye.

Marty: Okay, take care.

You’re listening to Work with Marty Nemko. Today, the show is all about you, especially if you are trying to figure out what you should do, career-wise. I’m talking about some under-the-radar careers, but those are not necessarily applicable to you, and I care to provide some guides that are applicable to you. So, for a three-minute workover, for you or someone you love, the phone number here at Work with Marty Nemko—415-841-4134; that’s 415-841-4134.

Before I go to the phones, like I said, I want to pepper the show with some careers that are kind of under-the-radar and that are not dying. And again, I’m focusing for the moment on a couple of careers that don’t even require a college degree. One is a claims adjuster. Insurance companies are always looking for people to adjust claims, whether they be healthcare claims or auto claims; or flood claims, now that the drought is . . .

It’s always amazing, by the way. The government always takes forever to act, so they’ve now allocated $600 billion to drought relief as we’re being deluged. And Southern California’s overwhelmed with water. When I think about the last drought, and the brilliant government took months before doing anything and then they decided what they needed to do was build a pipe across the Richmond-San Rafael Bridge, pumping water from Marin to the East Bay. Of course, the pipe just sat there for years, doing nothing and costing a fortune. And of course, the drought soon ended.

And then, I think of course about the Napa trolley. In an attempt to get people in public transportation, they built these gorgeous, beautiful cutesy trolleys to go from Downtown Napa to various places in Napa—and it’s a monument to government stupidity. They continued for years to run empty, back and forth, spewing energy, [laughs] back and forth. Nobody was ever on them, these gorgeous . . . I’m sure they cost 200 grand each.

Government is just slow. Democracy is wonderful, but it’s so slow that by the time they get anything done, it’s diluted because of the democracy. Everybody’s got to get their 2 cents in, and everybody compromises. Or, it’s so late that it’s too late.

Later, science has proven their policy’s wrong, and the ethanol thing was a perfect example. It took them seven years to decide ethanol was the answer, and then the science found that they ruined engines, [laughs] but they’re still subsidizing corn-growing for ethanol; it’s a crazy world.

Anyway, let me go to the phones. All the lines are lighted up. Welcome to Work with Marty Nemko. It’s your turn on the air. Hi, it’s you.

Caller 4: Hi, I’m calling for a loved one.

Marty: Great.

Caller 4: Okay, all right, so I have a son who is African-American, and his father is Nigerian. And so, his father—engineer and sciences, total, and what you just said.

Marty: Okay.

Caller 4: But the STEM thing—but he is totally passionate about neuroscience . . .

Marty: Me, too.

Caller 4: . . . and he is focused on . . . Neuroethics is what gets him the most.

Marty: Neuroethics is great, but the people who get to work in neuroethics are people who already have a long, distinguished career as leading sciences at Harvard and the National Institutes of Health. You don’t just say, “Geez, I’m really concerned about people who are not neurotypical. They have Asperger syndrome. And, why are they being prejudiced against in the work place?” There aren’t jobs in that, unless you are . . .

Caller 4: You’re preaching to the choir. But I’m also on this cutting edge where I understand that it’s important for someone to be passionate or like what they want to do but also with some intelligence. Because when I started in my career, nobody knew what I was doing. You know, 40 years ago, I went into the environmental field. I’m African-American, and [they] even said like, “What in the world are you doing?” But I kind of have that kind of feel for it. But, on the other hand, we need to figure out where to steer him, because he’s trying to do the right things. I mean, he got an internship in San Francisco last year, doing neuroethics kind of issues.

Marty: How old is he?

Caller 5: Right now, he’s 20.

Marty: And where is he at college?

Caller 4: He’s in Vassar, in New York.

Marty: And he’s majoring in a hard science or no?

Caller 4: No, his major is in neuroscience, but the thing about Vassar, which is really good, and also because of high school—he writes well. So, I’m on the same wavelength as you. You can’t write or read or articulate and speak in front of people. I just don’t care what you do. You will always go farther if you can have those skills.

Marty: Well, let’s slow down a little bit. He is majoring in a neuroscience, right now.

Caller 4: Yes.

Marty: How is he doing?

Caller 4: Very good—he’s doing very well.

Marty: Great. And how are his communication skills? I agree with you—that unless you have great communication skills, if you will get a job at all, you’re going to be staring at a computer all day.

Caller 4: No, he writes well and has a very good personality.

Marty: Okay, good. And, if you trusted your intuition, since you say, “I’m preaching to the choir,” I’m getting the sense that you feel he’s good in science, but he’s not a rock star. Should he go and aim at getting a typical master’s in public health and end up working for the government? I see the percentage of GDP that the government is increasing all the time, and the demographics and the way in voting patterns are likely to change, we’ll see ever more democrats being elected—and liberal democrats—and therefore, the size of government will increase. Therefore, the jobs, in my judgment, for people who are not superstar Harvard, genius rock stars, who are mathematical modelers—will be in the public sector. Should his aim be to get internships in public health entities?

Caller 4: Well, that’s something I’m going to have to introduce to him because he has ideas that will probably cost us. So tell him to take a public policy focus and get into a top notch graduate school?

Marty: Yes.

Caller 4: To aim for a top notch graduate school.

Marty: Yes, we live, unfortunately, in a brand name society.

Caller 4: Oh, I know that. I’m not, you know . . .

Marty: Right, preaching the choir again. So, right, he’s at Vassar, and, yes, trying to get into a first tier. Obviously, Johns Hopkins is the leading one for public health.

Caller 4: Yes, but he’s in contact with, like, Yale, Johns Hopkins.

Marty: Okay, great.

Caller 4: He’s trying to do the right things—even Oxford.

Marty: Okay.

Caller 4: He’s trying to do the right thing . . .

Marty: So, what’s the question?

Caller 4: . . . but he needs help.

Marty: So, where is the question?

Caller 4: Well, I think you’re answering it. In terms of neuroethics law, I agree with you. I don’t want to see him go yet. I’m trying to find alternatives. Public health—if I can try and talk to him and say, like, “Look, it’s not just total nursing issue.”

Marty: Don’t talk to him—show him. Just go to the Johns Hopkins website and the Yale website. Under public health degrees, they’ll show you the range of things in public health. They don’t do nursing. Those people there—they’re policy makers; they’re activists; they craft legislations; they’re lobbyists.

Caller 4: That’s where his heart is.

Marty: Okay, well, there you go.

Caller 4 Are there any other suggestions besides public health?

Marty: That is a launch pad. That opens door to many careers.

Caller 4: And somebody also said like maybe a business degree and work for a pharmaceutical company, but he’s like—because of ethical things—

Marty: No. What I’m hearing you say about neuroethics—that’s code for “I hate corporate America; I hate pharma.” So, let’s not challenge that just yet. I’m not anti-corporate, but just listening to you, and given that you’re an environmentalist, given his focus on ethics, he might be smarter rather than challenging that ethical framework from which you operate to stay in that public sector for now. Does that make sense?

Caller 4: Yes. I’m maneuvering myself to do something that can really make a difference for a large amount of people.

Marty: And I have to say that I believe that African-Americans have an edge in all of this, so I am more optimistic because he’s an African-American, because they’re underrepresented, if you will, in public policy. The government is very committed to more racial equity, so I could be even more optimistic in his case. The field now is oversupplied with white women. There’s a lot of white women who want to make policy.

Caller 4: He need to see where he’s going to fit it into.

Marty: I invite you to go with him online, whether if he’s back in Poughkeepsie, now. Go and spend some time on the phone with him, both of you in front of the computer and look at the . . .

Caller 4: The Johns Hopkins?

Marty: . . . Johns Hopkins and all those schools that have premier public health programs. And look—they always have a career section: “Here are some of what the graduates have done.” And that will expand his options. And I’m a big believer in being laser-focused, so I would encourage him to pick one thing that really excites the hell out of him. Maybe he wants to be a lobbyist for Kaiser—who knows?—or something else, but let him develop a goal that’s specific. And then, let him choose his term papers, his field work, his internships, his essay for graduate school, which graduate schools he applied to. Based on that specific goal, he could change. But having a specific focus is motivating and maximizes his chances at getting hired. Makes sense?

Caller 4: I couldn’t pay for this advice, I’m telling you.

Marty: Well, good. You don’t have to.

Caller 4: That has been bothering me in my gut.

Marty: Good. Well, I love that you called, and I’m glad to have helped. Feel free—I love it when callers call back. So, it could be six months, two years, three years down the road when things get clear and he’s made some progress, or whatever. You’ll call me back, would you?

Caller 4: Is there any way that this is streamed, so I can tell him to listen to this program?

Marty: Yes, if you go to my website MartyNemko.com, I have a link to the KALW site, the actual page where it’s located.

Caller 4: Okay, but that’s my problem. I’ll research that. Don’t worry about it, but I appreciate it. Because I think if he could hear it, himself, it will be good rather than me heckling it.

Marty: Good point.

Caller 4: Well, thanks for your time.

Marty: It is my pleasure. Thank you for calling Work with Marty Nemko. All our lines are lighted up. I will go back to the phones, but as I said, I wanted to pepper the show with some careers that are not obvious, that are not oversupplied like STEM and law.

Status is so important to people, but I consider status the enemy of contentment. There are a ton of jobs in the utility industry. This may gross you out but… I want to thank Maureen Barry, a listener to the show, who wrote to me the following: “I‘m writing today regarding my industry, the wastewater workforce. There’s a growing need for more people at all levels—technicians, plumbers, engineers, planners, project managers—you name it.”

So, think about utilities. Here’s another example. Your gas stove or drier, or whatever, there is somebody who runs that gas plant. Not somebody—there’s lots of people who control the systems and do checks to make sure the gas plant of PG&E are working properly.

Nobody thinks about those kinds of jobs. My job is to help you go under the radar. Okay, let’s go back to the phones. Welcome to Work with Marty Nemko. It’s your turn on the air. How can I help? Hello.

Caller 6: Great program. Thank you.

Marty: Thank you.

Caller 6: I wanted to comment on that set of career that may not necessarily be under the radar but that are available with a great deal of opportunities for people that are committed, talented, and that have drive.

Marty: Great. Let’s hear it.

Caller 6: And this is in the area of graphic design.

Marty: Really?

Caller 6: Web design, global design.

Marty: Really?

Caller 6: Absolutely. I manage a brand for a multi-billion, multi-global corporation in the Valley and we are desperate for qualified talent, not just talent that can put pixels together but talent that understands the need to translate business objectives, project objectives, utilizing their creativity, utilizing their communication skills into effective design systems.

Marty: Fantastic.

Caller 6: We are talking about 100K-150k a year, and we cannot find people to deliver these skills.

Marty: Got it. Now, help me understand this. I’ve had many graphic design clients, and they are good at the graphic design—they make pretty things—but they’re not business people. In fact, there are many people who love design, and they hate business and that’s why they do their art. How does one gain the skills as well as the values that enable them to understand the business side of things?

Caller 6: I understand what you say. They don’t necessarily need to be business-savvy. They need to understand the business, the product that this particular company is involved in. We are involved in hardware and software or large enterprises. They don’t need to understand the marketplace, what our competitors are, the overall marketing strategies, but they do need to understand what a piece of software does, so that they can translate it visually, in a very compelling way, to a website design, to a brochure, to a color palette. They need to understand what that product does for the consumer and then utilize the skills so the visualization, rapid prototype and production bring that to creation.

Marty: Great. And so, the ability to understand a complicated product, is that just simply a matter of intelligence, or is it something else? I’m trying to help my listeners who are graphic designers. Is it intelligence, or is it more than that?

Caller 6: Intelligence—I think it also has to do with the ability to utilize the creative process and ask the right questions to identify the right solutions. I know that this is not tangible enough.

Marty: Let’s be specific. Take a piece of hardware. Give me an example of a piece of hardware where you might need a graphic designer.

Caller 6: Storage.

Marty: Okay, great. So, big, solid-state hard disks drive that are in an array of a hundreds terabytes—is that the kind of thing you’re talking about?

Caller 6: Absolutely.

Marty: Great. So, that’s the product. What do you expect this graphic designer to be able to do regarding that product?

Caller 6: The product marketing team is going to come to the table to us, the branding team, the branding and graphic design team, and say, “Okay, I have this storage product that we need to launch in three months, and here’s a long list of product features and functionality.”—long, long. And I’ve been in the industry for many, many years, and I still don’t understand many of those line items on that list, but I will ask questions about what makes this product unique.

Little by little, perhaps the concept of extreme performance will come up. And, through some revisions and through some harder interviews, extreme performance will be continue to be a concept that bubbles up in the conversation. And so, we will then put away the list of 20+ product features and focus on performance. And then it is the job of the graphic designer to come up with ideas that visualize extreme performance but not in a vacuum, not just in any artistic way, but in a way that makes sense for a hardware product, which means that the visualization of it has to have very specific, back to a piece of circuitry and metal, so that it doesn’t look like we are talking about something soft and ephemeral.

And so, it is that. It’s that, Marty. They’ll be able to ask questions that will put aside the technical aspects of a product, focus on the benefits that the market will receive by buying this product, and visualize in that in a way that is appealing to the eye and engaging to the brain.

Marty: This is more just for curiosity: It seems like every product, no matter how many features . . . And you’re right. The old days of trying to market with features is stupid—it’s always about benefits—but aren’t the benefits always either better performance, better price, or better service? Does it always come down to one of those three?

Caller 6: Perhaps, but then that is the job of the brand manager and the product manager—to go even deeper and figure out, given the competitive landscape in that particular product, what then to highlight for that given period of time.

Marty: But if there isn’t a clear, definable benefit—let’s say, the storage system—of either performance, price, or follow up service, then is the product maybe not worthy of being introduced? Isn’t that really a good litmus test?

And then, let’s say it is extreme performance. It doesn’t take a genius to get a visual, like on the top of my head . . . If I were trying to show my performance, that we had the lowest error rate of any hard disk storage system, I might simply have a one-page ad that filled with pixels that are all black, and only one—out of the ten million pixels that are on that page—is red as a way of instantly visualizing its outstanding low error rate. Should it be more complicated than that?

Caller 6: Well, Marty, you have to come work with me. It is as simple as that, but it’s also as complicated as that. You would be surprised to see how many graduates of the local and even national graphic design schools are graduating without critical thinking skills, critical problem solving skills, and instead of focusing clearly on the technical aspects of the applications that we use to do our work.

So, going back to your question, it is about critical thinking. It is about intelligence; it is about creative intelligence—translating complexity into simplicity, product features and functionality into business solutions, and doing all of that in the context of design, color, pattern, typography, photography, illustration.

Marty: You are a fabulous caller. It has been a privilege to have you on the show. I want to do something for you. If somebody who’s listening to this show feels that they would do a good job for you, do you want to give out the contact information so that they can contact you?

Caller 6: I will give out the contact information for the agency to which I source talent.

Marty: Okay, whatever.

Caller 6: I encourage people who are interested in this kind of work, who have a passion for doing meaningful work, to look up Talent Table—and that is the agency that I source my talents.

Marty: And what’s your first name, if I can ask you?

Caller 6: My first name is Francisco.

Marty: Francisco, it has been a pleasure talking to you. You’re anhonored member of the Work with Marty Nemko workforce. Thank you so much for calling the show.

Caller 6: With pleasure, Marty.

Marty: Okay, before I go to take another call, again, we’ve been talking about under-the-radar careers. Here is something that seems odd: I drive in San Francisco, and I see the cable car conductors. You know, that’s kind of a fun job, for the right person. It’s social. You’re out and about. It’s not rocket science. It’s regular hours. And, in fact, in this article that I’m drawing on here called “40 High-Paying Jobs that Don’t Require a Bachelor’s Degree,” it’s listed as number 29—subway and street car operators—but it’s not something most people would think about.

Status is the enemy of contentment. Please remember that some of the happiest people are not the ones who are corporate lawyers; they have status, but they’re not always so happy. I’m not a stupid person, and yet, if I’m quietly asking myself, the jobs that I’ve been happiest in my life—it’s career counselor, which is not as prestigious as when I was a medical researcher through Rockefeller University; and New York City cab driver, which is a low-status job—yet I had a great time. So please don’t let status overwhelm other factors, especially in this era where status jobs are ever harder to come by.

Just a couple more examples . . . I want to take one more phone call. These are, again, from the list of 40 High-Paying Jobs that Don’t Require a Bachelor’s Degree.

Postmasters and mail superintendents.

Power-line installers, whether it be for telecommunications, for the evil Comcast; I do consider them evil. Their pricing is outrageous, but they provide excellent service. It’s just very, very expensive. They’ve essentially driven out all competitors, so they have a monopoly—so I don’t like them. But they do have a good product, and they’re always hiring.

Transportation inspectors—One of the sources of bioterrorism is our ports. Countless containers are coming in. Those are jobs you don’t normally think about that don’t require a college degree—very important—and pay well.

MRI tech imaging—medical technology imaging—you do need to have some science, but you don’t need to be a rocket scientist. MRIs are now becoming kind of passé. MEG scanners seem to be hot these days, which have higher resolution and less radiation.

Those are great careers that don’t necessarily require a college degree.

I’m going to stop there. Let me see if I can take one more call; no, I’m not going to do that.

I promised myself I wanted to do this for you. I’m really privileged that AOL has asked me to write a continuing saga about work for them. I’m calling it “Days of Our Work Lives”, and I thought I would see if you guys like them. I’m going to read you the first episode, as a way of ending today’s show. Let me just give you a little background.

While it’s fiction, it attempts to embed realities of today’s workplace plus my opinions and musings and advice in all manners of things. It’s about a family’s ups and downs. It’s computer geek David, his music teacher wife Susan, and their active son Adam. I just thought if I presented a career advice and workplace advice and life advice in the context of a story, it might be more interesting.

Part one of Days of Our Work Lives called “David’s Saga”; Episode One is “Open” Workspaces.

“As usual, David Sapian awoke grateful—grateful he’s well and that he has a decent job.

“Although he works very full-time, he dutifully helps his wife Susan get their 7-year-old son Adam ready for school. Today, David tried to get Adam to take his own cereal, but Adam likes being served so he threw a fit.

“David was grateful to finally escape into his car. He even preferred sitting in gridlock to his home’s morning madness—but gridlock raises his blood pressure, too. He’s angry not at the drivers but at the darn transportation planners for refusing to build more freeways, so—a la slowly ratcheted-up torture—we’re forced to sit in our cars and in ever more time-consuming and sardine mass transit. David would rather sit in gridlock in the sanctuary of his car.

“He arrived at the double-glass doors. ‘It’s showtime,’ he reminded himself. He pasted his corporate-acceptable smile and made corporate-acceptable greetings to co-workers as he strode to his cube. In corporate America, especially if you’re 40+, you may not trudge; you must stride. But not too fast—that would make you seem insufficiently controlled, just a moderate stride, with good posture: chin up, back straight, shoulders back, chest out. As Cosmo founder Helen Gurley Brown said, ‘After 40, it all comes down to posture.’

“HR had sent an email indicating they might finally might listen to employees’ pleas to add high walls to the cubicles. David thought, ‘What a stupid idea—open space workplaces. Yeah, let’s just collaborate, if listening to people blab about their kids is a sort of collaboration you want. But you can’t think, get any work done, certainly.’

“It’s been six months since HR sent that memo and, no surprise, still no walls. I guess they’re too busy revamping their corporate mission statement. After all, it’s hard to keep justifying, ‘People are our most important product,’ when they keep announcing layoffs to reduce headcount—oops—to rightsize the organization.

“No sooner did David’s butt hit his chair when a colleague came in: ‘Hey, David, the Big Enchilada wants to see us in five minutes.’

“‘That can’t be good. Will I still have a job?’”

Anyway, that’s episode one of Days of Our Work Lives. If you guys seem to like it, email me to let me know you like it—I may do more—but for today, that is Work with Marty Nemko.

I want to thank my board operator and, of course, all of you for listening and calling in. Please join me again next Sunday at 11. I will do three-minute work-overs on callers.

And, according to a just released report from the Bureau of Labor Statistics, the fastest growing field, one you may not have heard of—industrial and organizational psychology, with jobs expected to jump 53% by 2022. I’ll talk with the former president of the Society for Industrial and Organizational Psychology Doug Reynolds.

Until next Sunday, this is Marty Nemko reminding you: We find comfort among those who agree with us; growth among those who don’t.