My disengagement from television came with a lot of paperwork. I'd been a full-time employee for ten years and had invested in all the add-ons that came with that privilege. There was an RRSP, company stocks, benefits, travel insurance, medical insurance, an employee discount on services, a pension, severance, salary continuance, lump sum settlement...It was all a bit overwhelming. As someone who doesn't especially like paperwork and despises numbers—that's right, and I was working for a bank—the task of sorting through my severed career was particularly daunting.
Enter Jill, already known to you the reader, and Daria, my personal banker. These two women provided guidance and support on decisions that I dreaded making on my own. They were my de facto partners in the kind of choices that would affect my life and lifestyle for years to come. Where to put my money, how to spend it, what to save, and how to plan for the future were all discussions I had with each of them. Left to my own devices, I likely would have done whatever was easiest and fastest. Jill and Daria forced me to slow down and consider. They gave great advice and they were also good friends at a time when I really needed some help.
Although I've known Jill for years, our initial introduction was a wonderful bit of serendipity. It's also a perfect illustration of why I think you should always make room for new friends throughout life. In early 2006, I was living with my partner John in the Riverdale area of Toronto. John was friends with Nigel and Emma and we were invited to Emma's birthday party at a restaurant in Leslieville, which may not have been "Leslieville" quite yet. When I first lived in Toronto, Queen East was not the hot commodity it has since become but was instead populated by dodgy bars, family-run hardware stores and shuttered businesses. However, there was the occasional place of interest popping up and one such restaurant was our destination that evening. A group of about 20 was seated at a long table when John and I arrived. We took two open seats toward one end, across the table from Brett, a player on John's hockey team. After saying hello to the birthday girl and ordering drinks, we started chatting with our tablemates.
"This is my wife, Jill," Brett said, introducing the woman beside him and directly across the table from me.
"Hi, Jill. Nice to meet you." I nodded and smiled. "Are you from Toronto?"
"No. I'm from Vancouver."
"Me, too!" There was an instant connection. "Well, White Rock actually."
"I'm from Richmond." West coast backgrounds and knowledge of each other's hometowns was just the leading edge of what Jill and I discovered we had in common.
"So how did you meet Brett?" I asked.
"Actually, we met in San Francisco." I didn't know much about Brett, having only met him a couple times at the bar after hockey games.
"What were you doing in San Francisco? And what was Brett doing in San Francisco?" I asked, leaning forward to lessen the interfering din of birthday shots.
Over the course of the evening, I found out Jill had gone to Capilano College (now Capilano University) after University for an HR program. After working in Vancouver for a few years, she had an opportunity to move south of the border for a job with Electronic Arts. It was the golden age of IT in Silicon Valley and things were booming, so she decided to give America a try. Since I'm a dual citizen (US/Canadian) and I was recruited to play basketball for Capilano College (I played for Fraser Valley College instead), our conversation continued to form connection after connection.
"So how long were you in San Francisco?" I asked after dinner was eaten, pints had been refilled and Jill and I were in a comfortable groove.
"I was there for five years. And I met Brett a little more than four years ago." Jill had told me that Brett was in California doing his post-doctorate at UCSF when they met. Brett's a scientist. His work signature actually says "scientist". I always thought that was hilariously vague. Like LeBron James having "athlete" as his signature. More specifically, Brett was using fish as the model for heart development work. He knew Emma, another "scientist", through the University of Toronto and Sick Kids. I know what you're thinking. This must have been a table full of dum-dums. Totally. But I was there to bring the IQ back to a more relatable level. "Brett got a job in Toronto that enabled him to continue his work," Jill continued, "and I was game to move here."
YOU ARE READING
Happy Path
HumorWhat did the systems analyst say to the television producer? I love it when you call me Big Data. Happy Path is what happens when a 20-year broadcasting career is cut short and opportunity comes knocking in the guise of a charismatic boss who leads...