Thumb-sucking Sunday: The Dream Thing, redux
By Gina Spadafori
March 7, 2010
About a decade ago, not long after walking away from a job at a well-respected daily newspaper — a move that seemed insane at the time but not so much now — I walked away from the second real job of my life, running the Pet Care Forum on AOL as part of the Veterinary Information Network.
I had a $30,000 book advance in my back pocket, a regular gig at Pets.com and a six-month lease for a beach house on Alligator Point, Fla., at the point where a line dropped southwest from Tallahassee and northeast from Apalachicola would intersect. We weren’t talking a beach condo, either, but an old-style Florida family weekend house, a simple wood-frame structure heavy on bayfront windows and decking. The little blue house was perched precariously on wooden stilts with so much give in them that the entire place shook during the spin cycle of the washing machine, which had been named for a relatively mild hurricane that had had a similar effect.
My house may have been on Alligator Point, but to the U.S. Postal Service, I lived in Panacea. Looking back, that seems about right.
But no matter: I had my dogs, my van, a handful of books, some music CDs, a couple week’s worth of clothes and a Sony laptop. I was never going to have a day job again.
Well … ha!
Pets.com collapsed not long after my arrival, its sock puppet one of its only assets, along with the work I did for them, which was sold to a Microsoft content site and still pops up now and then. (The sock puppet was last seen working for a used-car dealer.)
I finished the one book, wrote second editions of two others, continued with my syndicated newspaper column and waited for news on the new book proposals. After a few months I realized I would have to go back to the empty house in Sacramento that I was still paying the mortgage on.
Shortly after 9/11, I knew the economy and the publishing industry weren’t going to be anything like normal for months to come, so I did what every unemployed writer/editor/journalist does in a town like Sacramento: I took a government job.
It was a good fit, for the most part. The Sacramento Municipal Utility District is a customer-owned electric utility with a history of public service, a product of the state’s progressive era, when civic-minded advocates broke the monopoly of the Robber Barons who ran the railroads and were gearing up to run the new electric and gas utilities. In more recent times, SMUD had become world-famous for renewable energy — solar, wind, biofuel, electric transportation and more — and, to a lesser extent, for mothballing a nuclear plant after a public vote. Who knew infrastructure could be so much fun?
My boss had a relaxed attitude and an infectious, honking laugh, and my co-workers were funny, smart and committed to public service. The gorgeous 1950s headquarters building had been ruined inside by the addition of beige “Dilbert”-style cubicles that blocked the light and made the place gloomy, at best, but the grounds were beautiful and every day I got to touch a 1959 Wayne Thiebaud mural as I walked in — and I almost always did, right at his tile “signature.” For a public-service-oriented policy wonk like me, it was a great place to be.
And it it still is, but as of last Friday, I’m not there.
The Tuesday previous, I woke up and quit. Well, technically, I retired so I could be able to buy group health insurance, but the end result was the same. I’m outta there.
Of course, the seeds of change had been sown a while back, starting when Dr. Becker and I formally became writing partners, 11 (soon to be 13) books ago. Those seeds were watered by the 2007 pet-food recall, and warmed by the greater opportunities Christie and I gained from our post-recall blogging cred, and with better, more prestigious and, well, better-paying writing gigs. That, and I have a burning desire to be a part of the sustainable, more humane agriculture movement, the heart of which beats in the Capay Valley, one county to the west of me.
The pet-food recall changed my life. I knew it would from the beginning, when Christie and I immediately realized it wasn’t a “pet story” at all, but one about an industrial food-delivery system for pets and people gone off the rails. I wanted to report on it, and I wanted to be part of fixing it. And I also, of course, wanted to keep writing about pets.
By any sensible measure, the decision to leave SMUD is a bad one, but truth is any of my co-workers would tell you with a smile that I was always a square peg in the round hole of civil service.
So it’s time to put the sensible behind me once again. Besides, I don’t have much time to worry: Dr. B and I have a book due May 1 and another due six months after that. And two more articles for Parade due within two weeks, and a weekly syndicated news feature due Monday.
This time, I hope I’m really on my way.
Top: Ben (died 2005) and Heather (d. 2009) at Alligator Point, Fla., January of 2001. Bottom: The award-winning SMUD headquarters building (Dreyfuss and Blackford). Here’s another view of this splendid building, which is awaiting California Office of Historic Preservation for being “a virtually pristine example of the International/Miesian style of post-WWII Modernism.”
You rock, Gina!
Comment by Cait — March 7, 2010 @ 7:48 am
You are good, kid!
You and Dr. Marty know your subject, pets and people, very well and inform the public in the most pleasing writing style.
Onward and upward, I say!
Comment by Evelyn — March 7, 2010 @ 8:21 am
You have *always* been on your way, Gina. It’s just that the path to one’s destination is rarely a straight line; more often it’s like zigs and zags. Your willingness to trust that what looks like insanity to others is perfectly sane and right for you is what’s going to get you where you want to be.
Comment by Susan — March 7, 2010 @ 8:28 am
But oh, for the days of $30k advances ….
Comment by Susan — March 7, 2010 @ 8:28 am
I’m going to make a ‘not sensible*’ change of my own soon, so this really hits home for me. Have fun!
*less money but more time/sanity
Comment by rheather — March 7, 2010 @ 8:39 am
Your willingness to trust that what looks like insanity to others is perfectly sane and right for you is what’s going to get you where you want to be.
Comment by Susan — March 7, 2010
Susan, please call my mother and explain this to her. :)
Comment by Gina Spadafori — March 7, 2010 @ 8:50 am
Echoing Susan, and adding that I always retain an abiding respect for any decision made by a person’s gut, in order to set things right with their soul, even if it flies in the face of the “right” or “rational” choice. I’ve made a couple conscious leaps of faith, not dissimilar to yours. They ran absolutely contrary to what people thought I *should* do. Although intellectually it felt like I was jumping out of a plane sans parachute, I knew each time I was right, because it was what I had to do. My explanations to non-believers tended to be little more than “it was a choice I had to make. I don’t expect you to understand it, because you’re not me”.
As your friend (first) and colleague (second), my understanding the decision isn’t remotely relevant, much less important. Brava for trusting your instincts. I trust you implicitly, and I trust your gut. You’ll be more than just fine, Gina. You’re gonna thrive. Count on it.
Comment by David S. Greene — March 7, 2010 @ 9:10 am
Gina- Brava and mazel tov and in the words of my very intellegent mother: “there are no bad decisions- not if you are present and accounted for”.
Fun meeting you and Woody yesterday-
Love,
Victoria
Comment by Victoria — March 7, 2010 @ 9:25 am
I have complete faith that you will do wonderfully well (perhaps that was a prescient choice of name for Faybee). And you’re braver than I am—I just didn’t tell my mother that I had quit a perfectly good job until after the fact.
Comment by Kim Thornton — March 7, 2010 @ 9:36 am
You are on the right path. The path that makes each breath count and peace in your heart.
You are the substance which companies and people need.
In a way, you have never worked for anyone or any company. They have been lucky to have your time.
(feeling very zen today)
Comment by ericka — March 7, 2010 @ 10:18 am
Wonderful news, Gina.
Onward!
Comment by Marge — March 7, 2010 @ 10:28 am
Congrats on fulfilling every writers dream!
Comment by Terry Albert — March 7, 2010 @ 10:35 am
You da BOMB, Gina.
Comment by Cheryl Jones Lakewood CO — March 7, 2010 @ 10:39 am
Wow, Gina, congratulations!!!
I’ve been self-employed for several years and the other day someone asked if I’d consider going back to work full-time for a certain global company based here … my first thought is that the FT employee option is too risky. Isn’t that funny?
Comment by Mary Mary — March 7, 2010 @ 12:05 pm
Send David’s post to your mom :)
Comment by Susan — March 7, 2010 @ 12:28 pm
Its nice to see some positive come out of the 2007 pet food recalls, its still hard to find much good to this day, but your story is one of them. It may be selfish of me but I am glad you are choosing the path you are going down because I see it helping many pets and humans down the “path”.
Comment by Sandi K — March 7, 2010 @ 12:58 pm
Forgot to say, you give a really nice description of your boss and co-workers and Im sure they were great to work with but I also cant help but wonder what it would be like working in an office with Gina Spadafori. I bet it would be great too! :-)
Comment by Sandi K — March 7, 2010 @ 1:05 pm
I found out about you during those dark days of March 2007..and have followed you since…and plan to follow you to the end! (my end hopefully—not your end! lol) x0x0
Comment by Carol V — March 7, 2010 @ 2:04 pm
You have to do what you have to do. Often that is incomprehensible to our nearest and dearest who want us to be ‘safe and secure’. Life isn’t ‘safe’. Here’s to your steppin’out!
Comment by Anne T. — March 7, 2010 @ 6:53 pm
Yes, you are on your way! I’ll look out for your books, and your articles in Parade. Combining a love for writing and a love for pets is the perfect career! Best wishes.
Comment by Peggy Frezon — March 7, 2010 @ 8:08 pm
Congrads to Gina on making The Bark Magazine’s top 100 Best and Brightest!
Comment by Nancy Freedman-Smith CPDT — March 8, 2010 @ 5:04 am
Thanks! It was a very cool surprise. :)
Comment by Gina Spadafori — March 8, 2010 @ 6:19 am
Oh, Gina, talking about the Bark Magazine’s top 100 Best and Brightest, I find Dr. Narda Robinson (my daughter) is also listed. I know I am “crowing”, please forgive. Can’t help myself. So that it what you were talking about a while back on your comment about my daughter. And while we are at it, did I see Dr. Marty Becker listed?
Gina, as regards to your work and your mom, tell her to recognize the innovator that you are. Say I said so, too.
The world so needs your writing skills, forget about the “power” job—so many others can use their energy for that position.
Comment by Evelyn — March 8, 2010 @ 7:51 am
Your place in the 100 Best and Brightest of the Bark Magazine is well-deserved for the way we were all kept up-to-date about the pet food recall!
Please forgive—I have to “crow” about you, too.
Comment by Evelyn — March 8, 2010 @ 8:39 am
We’re featuring that in Dr. Becker’s monthly newsletter, which goes out by e-mail tomorrow!
Comment by Gina Spadafori — March 8, 2010 @ 8:59 am
Best of luck with “the bend in the road” as Anne of Green Gables termed it. :O)
Comment by Original Lori — March 9, 2010 @ 3:03 pm