EDITOR’S NOTE: It’s time to talk pets. Grieving the death of a pet hits people hard. For some, I think it hits harder than losing a human relative. If you are interested in talking about the loss of a pet for a future edition, please share some details at the form I just linked.
Also, the Kids & Death series returns for our next edition.
Happy New Year! We’ve eliminated your position.
My first job out of grad school was with a local tech company as a marketing copywriter. I ghostwrote for the CEO and vice presidents, wrote sales material, rewrote the website…that sort of thing.
On September 11, 2001, I sat at my desk trying to work while listening to the news my radio. I didn’t know that the events of the day would indirectly lead to my job being eliminated. The post-9/11 economic downturn and slowly bursting dot com bubble led to belt tightening, and my manager suddenly didn’t have a need for a copywriter anymore1.
Poof. I was out.
I spent 15 months unemployed, including that blessed day when I got married2. Eventually, I hooked on with a nonprofit and grew up the ranks there over the course of 18 1/2 years. It worked itself out…eventually.
Getting laid off at age 24 probably isn’t much different than when you’re 44, except that I was pretty young and naïve about it all. I invested my loyalty into the company and was sent packing, seemingly, on a whim. I didn’t really see it coming, but again, I was young and I believed in the corporate talking point about the business being family-oriented and recession-proof3.
And, yeah, I hit all five stages of grief, but not in order.
I mean, I accepted that I was unemployed. The next day, I got on with the Department of Labor to file for unemployment and started to figure out how I was going to make payments for my car and health insurance. I immediately deferred payments on my student loans.
Denial was nontraditional. I was full of my own shit and the shit of others when they told me that I wouldn’t have any problem finding a new gig. I HAD A MASTER’S DEGREE. I HAVE ALL THIS EXPERIENCE. SURELY, I’ll be hired in minutes.
Nope. Sometimes months would go by without a sniff or a resume mailed. It was bad enough that I was deep in the interview process for a role with a auto and home insurance sales company when a part-time offer from the Alzheimer’s Association came through. Together with some adjunct work I picked up, I strung together enough money to feel whole.
Maybe not whole. Maybe 60-70% whole. There’s this macho man (but not The Macho Man) bullshit where the male in a relationship should be the breadwinner4. Not that I ever bought into that — my wife made more money than me for much of our marriage and I’m okay with it — but there is something to bringing no income to the table that is gut-punching. It makes you feel like less of a person, which dovetails nicely into…
Depression! Everybody’s favorite state of being. Yeah, there was a lot of depression and adding in job loss to an already simmering pot of depression, anxiety and panic disorder didn’t really help my state of being.
I was angry. Again, my naivete about being loyal to an employer bit me. I originally interviewed for a different job there three months before my master’s program was over. I had a great rapport with the marketing manager, who created the position for me when I graduated in May. Along the way, I had other opportunities present themselves — opportunities more in line with what I wanted to do — but I said no because this company held a job for me. I owed it to them. I was angry at myself, with them, with the job market, with my high school guidance counselor who told me to pursue what I loved and not what was easy…
Loyalty is a hard thing for me. I pride myself in being loyal — a loyal husband, father, friend, etc. — but it took a long time to realize that I need to be loyal to myself first and to only show as much loyalty to an employer as they are showing to me.
There wasn’t much bargaining in the classic sense. I wasn’t pining to get my old job back; in hindsight it may have been because I realized how toxic it was. There did feel like there was some internal bargaining as the search dragged on. My minimum standard of a job seemed to decrease over time, which is how I nearly ended up in an insurance sales training program5.
It took a long time to recover professionally, financially, mentally and emotionally from losing a job. It’s only now that I see the grief, and it got me thinking about how others dealt with the same conditions. So, as I tend to do, I asked someone who went through it recently.
Dirt Nap Q&A: Scott Merritt
Scott and I have never met in person, but have been connected on social media for the better part of 10 years. Mutual acquaintances, similar interests, and careers in public relations brought us together. Scott was raised on Long Island and currently lives in Atlanta. He was kind enough to answer a few of my questions about his journey with job loss and rediscovery.
You and I are in the same industry but have pursued different paths. I’ve stayed on the company side while you have worked with agencies throughout your career. What’s the pressure like to perform in those environments, where you work at the whim of a client that you have to keep happy?
My perspective is actually informed by the fact that while I’ve spent the bulk of my career on the agency side, I have had in-house jobs. I’m not sure there’s any measurable difference in the amount of pressure in one role vs. the other; it’s just different.
In my experience, being in-house involves a lot more politics. As PR people we always seem to have to defend the value we bring. You have to justify to your employer (your client) why you’re there in the first place, then you have to get buy-in on everything from various decision makers who often don’t understand PR or the value it brings, and then you have to execute the plan and deliver results.
On the agency side, we have the benefit of being engaged by clients who already understand why they need us. Of course, we still have to be creative, pitch ideas, build and execute programs, and deliver results. There are two things I love most about agencies: you get to work on a wide range of clients, often in very diverse industries; and, you’re surrounded by a team of potential collaborators, all of whom know and understand what you do.
The real pressure in the agency world comes from the constant gear-shifting — often from one industry to another, and always from one project to another — and mounting client demands across the board. It gets hairy when you face a perfect storm where everyone has a major project happening at the same time, but thankfully that’s rare. It’s something that comes with the territory.
In both cases you still have to keep clients happy. It boils down to how many clients you’re talking about and how you deal with the different kinds of pressures.
Along those same lines, how far along were you in your career when you first started to appreciate the value you brought to a company and weighed it against the value the company brought to you?
It’s essential to understand that the definition of value evolves over time. I graduated college at 25 and my twins were born a month later. So when I started my career, the value my employer brought to me was a paycheck. Full stop. Sure, there were perks and benefits, but it was about having a steady income and a reliable job. Whatever talent I brought to the equation seemed like a value proposition enough for them to trade their money for it.
Fast forward 25 years and that equation looks a lot different. It’s hard for me to put my finger on a specific date, but at some point purpose entered the equation. At this point, the value I bring to a company is fairly well established: strategic communications leadership and expertise and everything that goes along with it. So now my number-one priority is focusing on work that brings me value in the form of purpose. If I feel like the work I’m doing helps to make the world better in some way, that’s usually enough.
One of the foundational tenets of Strategic Global Media, the company I founded in 2022, is no asshole clients. Running your own company is not for the faint of heart. You have to be the plate-spinner for everything, from client management, new business development and overall workflow, to accounting and HR. If I’m going to commit to running and growing a company my way, the last thing I need is to wake up every morning with dread.
Working in a great environment helps you to see the purpose. If you’re surrounded by people you like, working with clients who are respectful, doing work that matters, being paid fairly, and being armed with the tools and rights to prioritize work/life balance, you’re probably doing well.
You spent eight years with your last agency before parting ways. Without going into specific details, could you talk about what happened?
I truly believed I would retire from that company. I’d climbed through the ranks and grown into a pretty solid leadership position, my results routinely exceeded targets, the roster of clients I was responsible for were consistently happy and long-tenured, the well-oiled team of rock stars working for me was unstoppable. It was great. Until it wasn’t.
Looking back, the writing was probably on the wall for about eight months. It started with an odd, out-of-the-blue phone call from someone above me who planted a seed that there were rumblings about me that reached him. This was repeated a couple of times in the ensuing months, until I was eventually let go. What was said, who said it, and why remains a mystery to this day. And to be honest, I don’t really care.
Maybe it was personal, maybe it wasn’t. It made no sense on paper, so I took it very personally at the time; it’s impossible not to. It really stung in the moment, but I’ve since moved on. I think anyone who pours their heart and soul into their work and is shown the door in return would have the same reaction.
Regardless of what precipitated their decision, they had a plan to move forward and I wasn’t part of it. They’re doing fine, I’m doing fine, and we’re all better for it. Ultimately, they did me a favor. I love what I’m doing now.
We’re friends on social media so I often saw you post about the various experiences you had professionally as a result of client relationships and work. One day that stopped and you were pretty open about being let go. Speaking from my own experience, it was a shock to the system when I was working on multiple projects one day only to find myself standing in the kitchen the next day with nothing to do.
That feeling really takes the wind out of you. Given that purpose is such a powerful motivator for me every day, waking up and staring at the coffee machine with a completely clear calendar was really unsettling.
One of the first things I did after grieving the loss and feeling sorry for myself was to get right back in front of the computer and start crafting a plan for what was next. I’m not much of a TV watcher, and the thought of doing nothing and relaxing for a while didn’t even cross my mind. It’s not that I can’t break away from work. Quite the contrary; I prioritize taking vacation time and experiencing all life has to offer. But work is what makes that possible, and I was staring down a long barrel of emptiness.
Because my entire career was built on crafting and executing strategic plans to help my clients achieve their goals, I figured I needed to do that for myself. Almost immediately I put my network to work for me, and they came through in a monumental way. Within a week I had five interviews lined up. But as much as I liked what these companies were doing, and as well as some of the opportunities would have paid me, with each successive interview I realized more and more that I wasn’t interested in working for someone else. But even then there wasn’t a moment of clarity where I declared my intention to hang my own shingle. I only knew what my gut was telling me. When I took stock, literally the only option left was to do my own thing. Thus, a reluctrepreneur was born.
Do you think you experienced any of the five stages of grief — denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance — as a result of your role with the agency disappearing?
I never really considered thinking about it in this way, but in retrospect I probably did.
While relationships, needs, and dreams are all part of the equation, jobs and employment are transactional by nature. You’re paid for a service, you provide that service, and when any part of the transaction is no longer needed the parties move on. In that way, it’s much different from grieving the loss of a loved one, a pet, or a long-term personal relationship.
I definitely experienced anger. I asked myself rhetorical questions. How could they keep so-and-so and not me? Why didn’t they recognize my value? That kind of thing. It doesn’t do any good in the long run because even if there are answers they really don’t matter. Then I skipped to acceptance pretty quickly because I needed to focus on rebuilding.
I watched a close friend who lost his job sink into a deep depression, and I can understand why. That was brutal to see, and thankfully he’s on the other side of it now. I’m generally a pragmatic thinker and it just didn’t make sense to be depressed over it. It happened. Time to move on.
In August 2021, you started working on a podcast called Second Act Stories about people who have made major career changes and have found a more rewarding path. How did this opportunity come to be? Also, do you see any irony in the fact that you're pursuing your own second act?
I’ve wanted to host a podcast for a long time, but I wanted to do it with a purpose. I hadn’t landed on a unique idea I thought really mattered until early 2021, when we were really in the teeth of the pandemic. I came up with a strategy and a business plan to launch a podcast focused on helping people network their way to work. Then I sought advice from someone I knew and trusted who already had a successful podcast: Andy Levine.
I originally met Andy back in 2005, when I did a short-term freelance project with an amazing PR firm called Development Counsellors International. Andy was the firm’s president and we became big fans of one another. We vowed we would work together again someday, but then I moved to Georgia and we both had our own things going.
When I reached out to Andy for advice, he presented an alternative I hadn’t considered: he asked me to join forces with him to co-host Second Act Stories. It turns out launching and growing an independent podcast is a grueling, time-consuming, and slow process. After that discussion I realized that it was our opportunity to finally capitalize on our vow from 15 years earlier. On the one hand, the storytelling concept wasn’t what I’d envisioned, but it was close enough and it was loaded with purpose. On the other hand, Andy was well established and had taken great care to create something meaningful that I could be part of. I called him a day or two later and said “I’m in.” I haven’t looked back.
I’ve since interviewed some of the world’s most interesting people who have made shocking and inspiring career changes. Well-known people like Michael Strahan, Rick Beato, and Brian “Q” Quinn from Impractical Jokers, and everyday heroes like George Taylor, Leah Gorham, and Stephanie Stuckey. Their personal stories can truly make a difference for people to find their own purpose.
You’ve since started your own agency — Strategic Global Media. How has being your own boss helped you find a more rewarding path and define your value?
Running my own company allows me to do things in an unfettered way. I don’t have to deal with the politics associated with working for someone else, and I don’t have to work with anyone I don’t want to work with.
I mentioned creating a strategic plan to build my business, so that’s what I did. I launched in January 2022, and by the end of February I was at full capacity and seeking support from contractors. I have my amazing network to thank for that. We focus on producing the highest quality work we know how to deliver, and it’s paid real dividends. Clients who like working with Strategic Global Media refer us to others, and past clients pop up from time to time. That’s been what’s kept our new business pipeline full.
The rewards come in a few ways. Of course, it’s financially rewarding, but a bigger reward is that I choose who we do and don’t work with. I turned away a few pieces of business when we were just getting off the ground because they didn’t feel right. Sounds crazy, right? For someone trying to build a business to turn away a client? It isn’t. The power of “no” is incredible. It makes room to say “yes” to more of the right opportunities.
Ultimately, it’s the clients and support system we choose to work with that really defines our value. Having strong relationships, being rewarded with continuing work, being referred, and having an entire ecosystem of people who like working with you says you’re doing something right.
We all benefit from hindsight and our experiences. What career advice you would give younger you?
Carve your own path. I wish I hadn’t waited as long as I did to launch my own agency. The perceived job security that comes from working for others is an illusion. If it’s up to you to make things happen, they’ll happen on your terms.
Bet on yourself. It’ll all work out because you are in charge of your own destiny and you know that failure is never an option. You make your own success, and you’re capable of doing it.
Finally, you grew up on Long Island and have lived in the greater Atlanta area for 16 or 17 years now. How does a Jewish kid from New York adjust to living in the south, knowing that you’ll never have a decent slice of pizza or good bagel without having to catch a flight home?
Finally, a hard-hitting question. When we first moved to Atlanta we were in a deep suburb that made me profoundly understand how Vincent LaGuardia Gambini felt in My Cousin Vinny. We’ve since relocated to an area where decent pizza and pretty good bagels are available. The best bagels south of the Mason-Dixon line are actually 10 minutes away. That may or may not have influenced where we bought our house.
But New York is a short, cheap flight and I’m thankful to visit fairly regularly. Plus, my best friend opened an amazing pizzeria a couple years ago (shout out to Sardo’s!), so I know I’m gonna get my pizza fix.
Final thoughts on finality…
The mind becomes a field of snow
but then the snow melts and the dandelions
blink on and you can walk through them,
your trousers plastered with dew.
They’re all waiting for you but first
here’s a booth where you can win
a peacock feather for bursting a balloon,
a man in huge stripes shouting about
a boy who is half swan, the biggest
pig in the world. Then you will pass
tractors pulling other tractors,
trees snagged with bright wrappers
and then you will come to a river
and then you will wash your face.
― Dean Young, The Invention of Heaven (h/t
)Dirt Nap is the Substack newsletter about death, grief and dying that is written and edited by Jared Paventi. It’s published every Friday morning. Dirt Nap is free and we simply ask that you subscribe and/or share with others.
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I would come to learn and observe over time that this company had a penchant for rapidly expanding and contracting based on their sales, not unlike how I approach the crab legs at a seafood buffet.
That was a fucking ego deflater. “She is employed as a teacher for the Whatever Central School District. He watches reruns of The Golden Girls all morning and takes a nap after lunch.”
Priests. I’m pretty sure bring a priest is the only recession-proof industry. Maybe being a nun, too.
Breadwinning is derived from the Dutch broodwinning, which means livelihood. Personally, I hate this word.
And this is not to put down anyone that sells insurance, or anything else for that matter. It wasn’t what I went to college for. This wasn’t what I spent the last eight years writing my ass off to do.