Cut'n'paste from another blog:
"But once again the stars were aligned and through a chance meeting I secured an interview for a not-yet-listed job opening with Aspen Skiing Company and got hired on the spot. Somehow I have dumb-lucked my way into my perfect job."
I rest my case, for now.

I am the product of a misspent youth. I look ten years older than I actually am. I am opinionated, often irritable, and brilliant on occasion. Despite a lifetime of attempting to escape the mundane, I failed miserably. My life has been one of boredom, occasionally punctuated by insanity, mine or someone else's. History is based purely on where you happened to be standing at the time. Thus far, I have not been standing in the right place. I am not through yet, though. I still hope to make some contribution to the record of the human race. At present, I am on track to go down as the greatest flop the world has never known.

Did you ever try to get involved? I did. My application was lost in processing.

In my teen years the war ended just in time for me to miss that one. With a lot of folks still in the military and the draft still in existence, they could afford to be picky about things like uncorrectable vision. Not that I am the military type but the vet status sure seems to open doors, assuming you are not in the prone position.

I have sought adventure and involvement many, many times. I'll keep trying. Once, I heard about jobs in Antartica. With experience in IT, I thought I had found a job that would offer adventure and challenge. I would make a contribution. I applied to the company that fulfilled the support mission down there. I hit a brick wall with the recruiter. I wasn't the right fit. How about another job, I asked. Food service, janitorial, I just want to try it. No way.

Once I applied to be a game warden. At the time, the job was seen to be pretty much law enforcement only. A few weeks after applying, I was thrilled to receive a letter inviting me for a personal interview. I drove to the National Guard Armory filled with anticipation. I turned into the parking lot only to see a line stretching around the building and through the parking lot. There were probably one thousand people in line. Uniformed game wardens came out with bull horns and announced that everyone would be interviewed by teams of wardens in shifts throughout the day. While waiting I learned that this site was just one of several throughout the state. There were fifty openings. Maybe ten thousand people were applying for fifty jobs.

Eventually, I made it into the building and registered my attendance. Find a chair if you can and wait for your name to be called. I watched as, occasionally, a game warden would roam through the armory, looking for someone. Usually, it was sort of like Old Home Week. Junior, there you are! Been looking for you. How's your Dad? Come with me. Got someone I want you to meet. He's in charge of the whole darn thing! Now I get it!

Needless to say, I didn't get the job. I read a few weeks later in the paper an article profiling the local selectees. Several had no college degree, unlike me. Overall, I felt I was better qualified than many. I wrote a letter to the state asking for my scores, or some explanation. The response was that there were no scores. I just did not get selected.

Now this relates back to my assertion that it is all a matter of chance. I recently read that the state now has to go all over the country to find people willing to apply for the job of game warden. It is not nearly as popular a job as it once was, I guess. I would still give my right arm for that job but I am now too old to qualify for a law enforcement job with the state.

Sour grapes? You're damn straight!