Watching Episode 4 of Season 5 of Better Call Saul
Watching episode 4 of season 5 of 'Better Call Saul' brings back certain memories. Some good, some bad. And if you'll bear with me as I reflect, organize, compose, and double thumb type of this cheap Samsung tablet, you might find things we have, that is to say more accurately, things we share.
The first memory pulled from its deep location somewhere in my cranium, was brought forth in one of the first scenes where Saul Goodman is invited to an upscale lunch by another, more powerful lawyer. The more powerful lawyer offers Saul a job at a prestigious law firm. Both men have drinks, a good lunch and look as I once did, in a suit and tie with a pressed shirt.
I was no lawyer. Later I would hire one. Lets leave that as a bit of a teaser.
I was a salesman, ex-military, former enlisted electronics technician, top of my class in boot camp, 1st of 640 enlistees, and top in my electronics school with an average I still recall 97.9% I was happy as a salesman. I got to wear a smart suit and tie like in the scene described above, sold spook receivers, that is to say spy radios. Our largest customer was domestic, the NSA, the company, Watkins-Johnson, made famous or notorious for having produced and sold to the Watergate burglers the receiver used to listen to the bug those corrupt criminals attempted to plant.
I worked internationally, my first sales territories being Latin America and the Middle East. In my first year, miracle of miracle, I sold just a bit over $4,000,000 of those intricate, well engineered, high dynamic range spy radios. A year later my boss, pleased with my results, gave me a larger sales territory, the Far East, and so I ventured to places of legend and history, Japan, Singapore, Taiwan and more.
I sold a bit more than the year before nearly $4,500,000. I thought I was good at my job. I was also proud, more than a little.
And I had bosses. At my after school job at a drive in movie theater, later in the US Navy, and then the aforementioned Watkins-Johnson, now if I am not mistaken part of Italian defence giant LeonardoDRS.
I was married. Nice girl. We went to high school together, that damnable Catholic school, Sacred Heart, in Kingston MA which I am pleased to inform all is now closing due to 'financial mismanagement'. Her name was Christine and I got her an after school job at that same drive in movie theater where I had once worked, oh so long ago, starting picking up the trash from those 13 paved rows and cleaning the men's and the women's bathrooms. $60 a week and all the popcorn you could eat.
The first memory pulled from its deep location somewhere in my cranium, was brought forth in one of the first scenes where Saul Goodman is invited to an upscale lunch by another, more powerful lawyer. The more powerful lawyer offers Saul a job at a prestigious law firm. Both men have drinks, a good lunch and look as I once did, in a suit and tie with a pressed shirt.
I was no lawyer. Later I would hire one. Lets leave that as a bit of a teaser.
I was a salesman, ex-military, former enlisted electronics technician, top of my class in boot camp, 1st of 640 enlistees, and top in my electronics school with an average I still recall 97.9% I was happy as a salesman. I got to wear a smart suit and tie like in the scene described above, sold spook receivers, that is to say spy radios. Our largest customer was domestic, the NSA, the company, Watkins-Johnson, made famous or notorious for having produced and sold to the Watergate burglers the receiver used to listen to the bug those corrupt criminals attempted to plant.
I worked internationally, my first sales territories being Latin America and the Middle East. In my first year, miracle of miracle, I sold just a bit over $4,000,000 of those intricate, well engineered, high dynamic range spy radios. A year later my boss, pleased with my results, gave me a larger sales territory, the Far East, and so I ventured to places of legend and history, Japan, Singapore, Taiwan and more.
I sold a bit more than the year before nearly $4,500,000. I thought I was good at my job. I was also proud, more than a little.
And I had bosses. At my after school job at a drive in movie theater, later in the US Navy, and then the aforementioned Watkins-Johnson, now if I am not mistaken part of Italian defence giant LeonardoDRS.
I was married. Nice girl. We went to high school together, that damnable Catholic school, Sacred Heart, in Kingston MA which I am pleased to inform all is now closing due to 'financial mismanagement'. Her name was Christine and I got her an after school job at that same drive in movie theater where I had once worked, oh so long ago, starting picking up the trash from those 13 paved rows and cleaning the men's and the women's bathrooms. $60 a week and all the popcorn you could eat.
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