Falling Off a Bike

Those of you who follow Vox and other like minded economists already know how bad the economy is.  I hope that you have not been personally affected by it.  Fourteen years ago I made a decision to move back to Wyoming.  I've wanted to live "out West" since sometime in the fall of 1980.  I got my first taste of doing that in the mid 90's.  Then I moved away to tend to some unfinished business.  I thought of returning nearly every day I was gone.  Then I met Mrs. Ipsa.  After she agreed that we would move west, I married her.  Agreeing to move at some future date was sort of a pre-nup.  The opportunity came and we moved back where I belong.

The only problem is that my professional skill set isn't very much in demand here.  I'm an excellent banker.  The type of banking that I enjoy doing generally requires a large population.  The places I like to live have very small population.  To make matters worse, I'm not big on travel anymore either.  Which cuts down on the marketability of my other top skill set, consulting.

With the economy being what it is, and with me not wanting to leave this state my job opportunities have been limited.  I haven't had a "real job" in over 5 years.  The job I have now is less than ideal but it allows me to work nights while watching my kids during the day, so my wife can work part time.  No one is happy with this arrangement, but it is the best I've been able to come up with.

Today I hopped in the truck and took a drive.  I went to one of those cute little towns nestled in the mountains.  For those of you who don't know, Wyoming has two kinds of terrain, open prairie and mountains.  Real-estate in the mountains tends to cost a lot more because its pretty.  This little town I went to is one of those towns that started in the old west. 

This little town has a little bank.  This little bank has a man who has worked there for decades and has decided he will retire this year.  They need someone to replace him.  So I took a day off work and went in and asked for the job.  Despite the fact that they aren't interviewing for a couple of weeks, and they had no idea that I was coming, I got to talk shop with the boss.  I expected that I'd get maybe 5 min or so of his time.  We spent 45 minutes chatting. 

I was told that I am over qualified for the job.  That's true, I am. They didn't understand why I would work for them.  So I told them.  I like living in small towns.  I like having time with my family.  I'm not big on being in survival mode and I'd like to go to work every day doing something I've good at.  I know I sounded very alpha in the beginning.  Telling the truth sometimes doesn't sound as "large and in charge" as you want, but that's what I told them, the unvarnished truth.  I thought I shot myself in the foot.  None of the things I was acknowledging as my motivations for going to work for them were likely to get me a job.  I thought I was done.

When I stopped taking my interviewer nodded his head and gave me a kindred spirit smile.  We talked about Adams.  We talked about all the opportunities for big pay working in the big city.  We talked about the big headaches that come with it. 

He didn't say, but I think I'm in the running for a call back interview.

As much as being in the bank and seeing the big vault doors open invigorated me; I don't want the job if its not God's best for me.  Seriously.  I can walk away from the opportunity and be OK with that.  If I did get an offer, the top end of the pay scale is about half what it would cost to live there.  God will have to work out the money, a new house and a way to make everything happen, including Mrs. Ipsa staying at home full time. 

BUT if all of that happens, it will be the realization of a dream 34 years in the making.