My younger son was on his way to Israel for a two-week Birthright Tour, following college graduation ceremonies. He stopped here at home for a brief visit and brought a classmate with him who was also going on the trip. Right away I said to myself that the friend looked like the actor Jeff Goldblum-- who you may know acted in Jurassic Park and many other productions. It turned out everyone tells his friend Dan the same thing.
By chance, my son and my wife left to go shopping for last minute trip items, which left me and Dan together for a while. To be hospitable, I talked with him about his life and aspirations. It turned out he was a theatre major and planned to move to Chicago and pursue an acting career, though he had no contacts or prospects there going in.
We talked further about why he was going on this trip, and I learned that among other influences his grandfather had been a long-time rabbi in Scranton, PA. Funny, I said, my favorite uncle was also a rabbi early in his career in the same city. He called his mom on his cell phone and learned that the synogogue was Temple Israel. It was exactly the same temple that my uncle had served following his graduation from the seminary. The coincidence seemed astounding!
At this point our fascinating conversation was cut short by my wife and son calling from the mall encouraging me to not engage in extended conversation with Dan so he could finish packing. I did as they wished but kept mulling this information in my mind. After my son and Dan left and were flying over the Atlantic, the insight came to me that these days you could find out practically anything by simply asking the Internet. I looked up the history of Temple Israel of Scranton,PA and saw it in black and white. The list of rabbis serving since inception included my uncle from 1939 to 1948, followed immediately by Dan's grandfather from 1948 until around 1990.
By the time the plane landed in Tel Aviv, Dan had received my email and confirmed that yup-- that was his grandfather ! By further email to his mother -- the rabbi's daughter-- we confirmed that they knew each other well and apparently kept in touch, since my uncle's next pulpit was not far away in Paterson, New Jersey.
Among small world stories, this one is not particularly earth-shaking. Yet to me it was quite significant. Think of the co-incidence involved and the odds of one classmate friend from Kalamazoo,MI going on this trip, staying in my house, and having a rabbi relative who served in the same temple as successor to my favorite uncle, who I adored and spent parts of innumerable summer vacations with and years helping write his newspaper columns dealing with the bible on Broadway. To this day I treasure his rabbinic robe, his rabbi's hat, and some of his religious books, which I retained after his death. I was married standing under his prayer shawl, a family heirloom from 19th century Poland.If my son and wife had called a few minutes earlier advising me to leave Dan alone, none of this would ever have come to light.
So here is what I did. I emailed an old friend who has lived all her life in Chicago, a former newspaper reporter who knows everyone and everything going on in that city. She readily agreed to introduce Dan to some theatre people she knows who may be able to help him break into show biz. I'd be thrilled to be involved in Dan's career at its inception just as my beloved uncle Archie intersected with Dan's grandfather at the inception of his life's work. Small world isn't it ? -- small and funny and fun.
Toucan
Thursday, May 31, 2012
Thursday, May 17, 2012
To Manhattan By Bike.
The distance from Park Slope in Brooklyn to Midtown Manhattan is about 8 miles. Traveling by bike provides a constantly changing panorama and dangers.
There are less travelled streets in Brooklyn leading to the Manhattan or Brooklyn Bridges. Any bike rider can tell you that the newer Manhattan Bridge bikeway is much safer and leveler. My route took me past the new Barclay Center in downtown Brooklyn, now nearing completion. Soon thousands will converge to watch pro basketball games there. But to any lifelong Brooklynite, nothing will replace the nearby Ebbets Field. Today I chose the Brooklyn Bridge because I needed the bike path along the West Side Highway.
On the bridge were many hundreds, maybe thousands, of tourists walking across and taking pictures. The roadway is divided in half, split between crowded walkers and a few bikers. This seems outrageous to meon the few occasions I walked, but totally appropriate whenever I'm peddling. On the Manhattan side, you're back on the streets until you hit the bike path. At any time you could easily be doored, whether here or in Brooklyn, almost insuring immediate death from a passing vehicle and the end of this blog. A simple bike ride requires total alertness and vigilance, like a vulnerable creature in the wild. Sometimes there are white lines on the street showing a safe harbor for bikes, and usually you can expect to find double-parked vehicles adding to the dooring danger.
If you survive to the beautiful bike path next to the West Side Highway or the protected companion route up First Avenue on the East Side, you will feel like a salmon that has survived the upstream rapids back to your ancestral spawning grounds. At this point, you can finally relax and truly enjoy the pleasures of a New York City bike ride. I always breathe a sigh of relief, feel a little gratitude to the Mayor and Transportation Commish for championing the expansion of City bike routes, and thank God for my survival. You don't need to travel to the Himalaya Mountains to feel the thrill of putting your life on the line.
Miles of pleasant biking on level terrain lie ahead. Eventually these paths will link and it will be possible to go entirely around Manhattan Island. That day is approaching. Already my wife and I have gone up the West Side to the George Washington Bridge. Next time we'll go all the way to the Cloisters. I keep a catalog in my head of lots of places to stop along the way for food, sightseeing, and rest. The best part are places to eat, starting with Chinatown and hitting every ethnic neighborhood along the way. For me the best sights are ships in the harbor or new building construction all over Manhattan and Downtown Brooklyn.
The best part about going by bike, besides the exercise, fresh air, and ever-changing panoramas of people-watching, is the ease of parking. When we went by car, parking was next to impossible. However, there are parking sign poles everywhere, so parking is readily available everywhere. The most curious thing is that the total time it takes to go from Brooklyn to Midtown by bike, across a bridge, isn't much longer than the time it takes by subway. I have never figured out how this can be so.
The trip back home repeats all the thrills and chills of the outbound journey. Usually I pedal home, but occasionally if it is late at night, bad weather, or it's past rush hour and I'm lazy, the NYC Transit System is happy to transport me back to Brooklyn. Subway riders treat bikers and their bikes with total indifference provided the cars are not crowded.
I've been meaning to look up how many calories one burns per hour with this activity to gauge how this activity heps with my diet. Somehow I think all of the treats and snacks I manage to consume along the way from the ravenous appetite I generate results in a net weight gain rather than a loss. But I sure sleep well whenever I do this and, for those who crave adventure and are not afraid of dying, recommend you try this for yourself. Beginners should definitely consider launching with a Sunday morning ride, when the reduced traffic will make this trip much safer and pleasant.
There are less travelled streets in Brooklyn leading to the Manhattan or Brooklyn Bridges. Any bike rider can tell you that the newer Manhattan Bridge bikeway is much safer and leveler. My route took me past the new Barclay Center in downtown Brooklyn, now nearing completion. Soon thousands will converge to watch pro basketball games there. But to any lifelong Brooklynite, nothing will replace the nearby Ebbets Field. Today I chose the Brooklyn Bridge because I needed the bike path along the West Side Highway.
On the bridge were many hundreds, maybe thousands, of tourists walking across and taking pictures. The roadway is divided in half, split between crowded walkers and a few bikers. This seems outrageous to meon the few occasions I walked, but totally appropriate whenever I'm peddling. On the Manhattan side, you're back on the streets until you hit the bike path. At any time you could easily be doored, whether here or in Brooklyn, almost insuring immediate death from a passing vehicle and the end of this blog. A simple bike ride requires total alertness and vigilance, like a vulnerable creature in the wild. Sometimes there are white lines on the street showing a safe harbor for bikes, and usually you can expect to find double-parked vehicles adding to the dooring danger.
If you survive to the beautiful bike path next to the West Side Highway or the protected companion route up First Avenue on the East Side, you will feel like a salmon that has survived the upstream rapids back to your ancestral spawning grounds. At this point, you can finally relax and truly enjoy the pleasures of a New York City bike ride. I always breathe a sigh of relief, feel a little gratitude to the Mayor and Transportation Commish for championing the expansion of City bike routes, and thank God for my survival. You don't need to travel to the Himalaya Mountains to feel the thrill of putting your life on the line.
Miles of pleasant biking on level terrain lie ahead. Eventually these paths will link and it will be possible to go entirely around Manhattan Island. That day is approaching. Already my wife and I have gone up the West Side to the George Washington Bridge. Next time we'll go all the way to the Cloisters. I keep a catalog in my head of lots of places to stop along the way for food, sightseeing, and rest. The best part are places to eat, starting with Chinatown and hitting every ethnic neighborhood along the way. For me the best sights are ships in the harbor or new building construction all over Manhattan and Downtown Brooklyn.
The best part about going by bike, besides the exercise, fresh air, and ever-changing panoramas of people-watching, is the ease of parking. When we went by car, parking was next to impossible. However, there are parking sign poles everywhere, so parking is readily available everywhere. The most curious thing is that the total time it takes to go from Brooklyn to Midtown by bike, across a bridge, isn't much longer than the time it takes by subway. I have never figured out how this can be so.
The trip back home repeats all the thrills and chills of the outbound journey. Usually I pedal home, but occasionally if it is late at night, bad weather, or it's past rush hour and I'm lazy, the NYC Transit System is happy to transport me back to Brooklyn. Subway riders treat bikers and their bikes with total indifference provided the cars are not crowded.
I've been meaning to look up how many calories one burns per hour with this activity to gauge how this activity heps with my diet. Somehow I think all of the treats and snacks I manage to consume along the way from the ravenous appetite I generate results in a net weight gain rather than a loss. But I sure sleep well whenever I do this and, for those who crave adventure and are not afraid of dying, recommend you try this for yourself. Beginners should definitely consider launching with a Sunday morning ride, when the reduced traffic will make this trip much safer and pleasant.
Sunday, May 6, 2012
World Trade Center-- Part II.
Like everyone else, I'll always remember 9/11.
My wife and I got up unusually early that morning because she had scheduled some ambulatory surgery and we needed to drive to NY Hospital in Manhattan. But when we arrived, at maybe 6 am, there was such a back-up that the procedure was postponed and we drove home. I was exhausted and fell asleep on the couch upon our return. Some time later, my wife suddenly woke me up and frantically announced a bombing of the World Trade Center. I imagined a repeat of 1993, when terrorists exploded a bomb in the WTC garage, causing extensive damage but nothing catastrophic.
You can imagine our horror when I turned on the TV and we saw on the screen only a SINGLE tower standing instead of two! Cindy Hsu of CBS News was announcing that one tower had already fallen from the attack and that the second tower was in danger of doing the same. We sat stunned, speechless, and glued to the set for many long minutes. Eventually, the second tower also collapsed and then fell straight to the ground in about 10 seconds. The shock and horror of that day will never leave us. It seemed like a very authentic movie, except it was tragically real. Rescuers arrived on the scene and the digging for survivors-- almost none--began.
I was struck by a comment our Chinese renovator, who was working on our house at that time, immediately said. He declared without hesitation that anyone working on rescue would develop severe illness from breathing in the toxic dust generated from the debris. Why every other pro working at the site didn't know about this lethal danger escapes me. That afternoon, parents went to pick up their children at school,since classes were cancelled. One by one the children left elementary school auditoriums. I picked up our two boys. Fortunately, neither was traumatized by this event.I later learned that at the end of the day one child was left sitting in our kids' auditorium without a pickup.The reason was that the child's parent had been killed in the collapse.
That afternoon the sky over Park Slope in Brooklyn, about four miles from ground zero, was dark from ash and debris carried by the wind. A charred piece of memo paper fell near me. I picked it up and have saved it till this day. It was a Morgan Stanley employee's memo pad, with his name and title printed at the top. I never called to see if he survived. There was also a peculiar burnt smell in the air. I stayed indoors the entire afternoon watching the event on TV.
I eventually visited ground zero weeks later. The area was cordoned off, which seemed pointless after the attack, since there was nothing left except a huge pile of steel and other remains from the towers. Fires were still burning weeks later and there was a sickening smell in the air. My wife's office was two blocks away. They were relocated elsewhere for months while the cleanup proceeded. Eventually, all of the buildings comprising the WTC complex were demolished, not just the twin towers. About 17 acres were finally cleared after months for a fresh start. Every day tourists arrived with cameras to take pictures of themselves standing in front of what became a typical high rise construction site.
Almost 3000 people died in the attack. One friend who worked with my wife said she watched people jump out of the towers from high floors to their death. The heat from the burning building made suicide the only feasible option.k
My wife and I got up unusually early that morning because she had scheduled some ambulatory surgery and we needed to drive to NY Hospital in Manhattan. But when we arrived, at maybe 6 am, there was such a back-up that the procedure was postponed and we drove home. I was exhausted and fell asleep on the couch upon our return. Some time later, my wife suddenly woke me up and frantically announced a bombing of the World Trade Center. I imagined a repeat of 1993, when terrorists exploded a bomb in the WTC garage, causing extensive damage but nothing catastrophic.
You can imagine our horror when I turned on the TV and we saw on the screen only a SINGLE tower standing instead of two! Cindy Hsu of CBS News was announcing that one tower had already fallen from the attack and that the second tower was in danger of doing the same. We sat stunned, speechless, and glued to the set for many long minutes. Eventually, the second tower also collapsed and then fell straight to the ground in about 10 seconds. The shock and horror of that day will never leave us. It seemed like a very authentic movie, except it was tragically real. Rescuers arrived on the scene and the digging for survivors-- almost none--began.
I was struck by a comment our Chinese renovator, who was working on our house at that time, immediately said. He declared without hesitation that anyone working on rescue would develop severe illness from breathing in the toxic dust generated from the debris. Why every other pro working at the site didn't know about this lethal danger escapes me. That afternoon, parents went to pick up their children at school,since classes were cancelled. One by one the children left elementary school auditoriums. I picked up our two boys. Fortunately, neither was traumatized by this event.I later learned that at the end of the day one child was left sitting in our kids' auditorium without a pickup.The reason was that the child's parent had been killed in the collapse.
That afternoon the sky over Park Slope in Brooklyn, about four miles from ground zero, was dark from ash and debris carried by the wind. A charred piece of memo paper fell near me. I picked it up and have saved it till this day. It was a Morgan Stanley employee's memo pad, with his name and title printed at the top. I never called to see if he survived. There was also a peculiar burnt smell in the air. I stayed indoors the entire afternoon watching the event on TV.
I eventually visited ground zero weeks later. The area was cordoned off, which seemed pointless after the attack, since there was nothing left except a huge pile of steel and other remains from the towers. Fires were still burning weeks later and there was a sickening smell in the air. My wife's office was two blocks away. They were relocated elsewhere for months while the cleanup proceeded. Eventually, all of the buildings comprising the WTC complex were demolished, not just the twin towers. About 17 acres were finally cleared after months for a fresh start. Every day tourists arrived with cameras to take pictures of themselves standing in front of what became a typical high rise construction site.
Almost 3000 people died in the attack. One friend who worked with my wife said she watched people jump out of the towers from high floors to their death. The heat from the burning building made suicide the only feasible option.k
Saturday, May 5, 2012
World Trade Center-- Part I
One of the objectives of this blog is to record the average person's opinion of contemporary occurrences. For example, my older son and I once sat enthralled as my 95 year old mother recalled her reaction to news of the sinking of the Titanic when she was a teenager. Here are my reflections about the World Trade Center, which opened when I was about 30 years old.
Initially I didn't pay much attention to the World Trade Center. I was working in midtown, and the thought of another skyscraper in downtown Manhattan wasn't particularly exciting. It seemed like just another episode in Gov. Nelson Rockefeller's well known edifice-complex,in which he built one massive building project after the other. The WTC would simply take its place along with Lincoln Center, the South Mall NY State Government complex in Albany, and SUNY college campuses throughout the State. My strongest memory was learning that, due to adverse economic conditions, the buildings couldn't find tenants, and that to fill the space the government moved many state government offices into the towers.
Once the buildings started operating, I didn't hear a lot of praise about them. Architecturally, one critic wrote that the ultimate office building resembled nothing more than the ultimate office tool-- two stacks of staples held together. Indeed, architect Yamaguchi's stark design did not seem to generate much praise. When I eventually got to work nearby, I found the plaza cold, barren, and windswept in winter. Most of the activity seemed to come from the pedestrian mall underground. However, I did marvel at more escalators underground than I'd ever seen together. These were designed to carry thousands of workers into and out of Manhattan on the PATH to New Jersey.
Professionally, I got to visit one large law firm in the towers for regular meetings,as well as the HQs of MAC ( the City's fiscal monitor in the 1970's), and the NYS Dept of Taxation. The tax office was funny. They moved into this new, modern skyscraper, but they duplicated the rather dingy atmosphere of their old offices, complete with cardboard carton boxes and ratty furniture. I heard that there were not a lot of international companies or trading firms in the buildings. Over time it became a lot more fashionable to have offices there and the state eventually moved out to garner higher rent from the private sector.
One thing I strongly disliked was walking exposed on the sidewalk or plaza directly under the powerful antennas mounted on top of the tower as the highest point from which to transmit TV signals to the NY metro area. This tower superseded the one atop the Empire State Building when the WTC became the then tallest building in the world. I read that the top floor in the building opposite the antenna had been evacuated lest the people there "fry" from the radiation emitted from the TV transmissions. I am no expert but this information made me feel very uneasy.
On occasion I went up to the Windows on the World Restaurant and looked out at the scene below. A very exciting and fascinating experience! I could never understand-- nor could others-- why the windows were only slits 18" wide. Why have the world's tallest building and hamper the view? On balance, I've learned a lot more about these buildings once they fell than I ever knew while they were standing. I think it fair to say that the towers were never beloved by most New Yorkers like the Empire State Building or the Chrysler Building. I think many people appreciate them more now when they are gone than we did when they were an everyday presence.
Two final recollections. I used them as guideposts. If you could spot them when emerging from the subway, for example, you could usually determine your location. Also, when I look at old photographs of family and friends taken in the City, the Twin Towers appear ubiquitous in the background. I never gave their presence a second thought when they were around.
Initially I didn't pay much attention to the World Trade Center. I was working in midtown, and the thought of another skyscraper in downtown Manhattan wasn't particularly exciting. It seemed like just another episode in Gov. Nelson Rockefeller's well known edifice-complex,in which he built one massive building project after the other. The WTC would simply take its place along with Lincoln Center, the South Mall NY State Government complex in Albany, and SUNY college campuses throughout the State. My strongest memory was learning that, due to adverse economic conditions, the buildings couldn't find tenants, and that to fill the space the government moved many state government offices into the towers.
Once the buildings started operating, I didn't hear a lot of praise about them. Architecturally, one critic wrote that the ultimate office building resembled nothing more than the ultimate office tool-- two stacks of staples held together. Indeed, architect Yamaguchi's stark design did not seem to generate much praise. When I eventually got to work nearby, I found the plaza cold, barren, and windswept in winter. Most of the activity seemed to come from the pedestrian mall underground. However, I did marvel at more escalators underground than I'd ever seen together. These were designed to carry thousands of workers into and out of Manhattan on the PATH to New Jersey.
Professionally, I got to visit one large law firm in the towers for regular meetings,as well as the HQs of MAC ( the City's fiscal monitor in the 1970's), and the NYS Dept of Taxation. The tax office was funny. They moved into this new, modern skyscraper, but they duplicated the rather dingy atmosphere of their old offices, complete with cardboard carton boxes and ratty furniture. I heard that there were not a lot of international companies or trading firms in the buildings. Over time it became a lot more fashionable to have offices there and the state eventually moved out to garner higher rent from the private sector.
One thing I strongly disliked was walking exposed on the sidewalk or plaza directly under the powerful antennas mounted on top of the tower as the highest point from which to transmit TV signals to the NY metro area. This tower superseded the one atop the Empire State Building when the WTC became the then tallest building in the world. I read that the top floor in the building opposite the antenna had been evacuated lest the people there "fry" from the radiation emitted from the TV transmissions. I am no expert but this information made me feel very uneasy.
On occasion I went up to the Windows on the World Restaurant and looked out at the scene below. A very exciting and fascinating experience! I could never understand-- nor could others-- why the windows were only slits 18" wide. Why have the world's tallest building and hamper the view? On balance, I've learned a lot more about these buildings once they fell than I ever knew while they were standing. I think it fair to say that the towers were never beloved by most New Yorkers like the Empire State Building or the Chrysler Building. I think many people appreciate them more now when they are gone than we did when they were an everyday presence.
Two final recollections. I used them as guideposts. If you could spot them when emerging from the subway, for example, you could usually determine your location. Also, when I look at old photographs of family and friends taken in the City, the Twin Towers appear ubiquitous in the background. I never gave their presence a second thought when they were around.
Wednesday, May 2, 2012
Blessings In Disguise
Yesterday's obituaries in the New York Times contained the story of a man named Fred Hakim, who died at age 83.
Hakim's life was interesting to me because he had an experience which reminded me of something that happened in my own life.
Hakim owned and operated a hot dog business named the Grand Luncheonette in Times Square. He inherited the business from his father. Between them they ran the business for decades, until the City ordered the son to leave so the building could be demolished as part of the renovation of Times Square some years ago. His attempt to remain was unsuccessful and, at age 69, Hakim was forced out.
I used to eat hot dogs at his store and at a nearby Nedick's, known to fans as the Orange Room for its famous orange soda drink, whenever it came time to shop at Macy's Herald Square store. I hated clothes shopping but the hot dogs, one of my favorite foods, made the task more palatable.
Anyway, you would expect that losing the family business after so many years would have made Hakim despondent. But the exact opposite was the case. Hakim always told friends and family that losing the store was one of the luckiest days of his life. The reason for his unexpected reaction was that a freak accident occurred shortly after he left the premises. It seems that demolition nearby weakened his building and caused it to collapse suddenly and completely. Hakim said he would almost certainly have been standing behind the counter and killed instantly if he had been working at that time. The eviction was a blessing in disguise!
I had a similar kind of experience about 25 years ago. At that time I was seeking an attractive job with the Port Authority of New York and New Jersey. A friend at my then present job had moved to the Port Authority, liked it a lot, and arranged an interview for me with two of his colleagues after giving them a glowing recommendation about me. I felt sure I would enjoy making this move, but to my surprise I didn't get an offer. Needless to say, I was very disappointed and spent some time moping about it before resuming my life. It was only many years later that I realized what a blessing in disguise my not getting this job actually was. It turned out that the Port Authority had its offices on a high floor of the World Trade Center. When the twin towers were attacked on 9/11, a number of Port Authority officials were tragically killed, including the Executive Director and my friend Richard. If I had worked there, I would have been in an office near him as we did similar kinds of work. Like Hakim, I surely would have been killed when the towers fell. Instead, I was compelled to remain at my existing job, where I met my wife and from which I went on to interesting work elsewhere.
I think about these poignant work-related incidents whenever I consider the problems of frustrated and disappointed young people these days seeking the job of their dreams. Their distress is real and justified, but based on the life of Fred Hakim, myself, and I am sure many others, I would like to console them at least a little with the thought that sometimes not getting their imagined dream job might actually turn out to be a blessing in disguise. Occasionally you don't even get to realize it except in retrospect many years later.
Hakim's life was interesting to me because he had an experience which reminded me of something that happened in my own life.
Hakim owned and operated a hot dog business named the Grand Luncheonette in Times Square. He inherited the business from his father. Between them they ran the business for decades, until the City ordered the son to leave so the building could be demolished as part of the renovation of Times Square some years ago. His attempt to remain was unsuccessful and, at age 69, Hakim was forced out.
I used to eat hot dogs at his store and at a nearby Nedick's, known to fans as the Orange Room for its famous orange soda drink, whenever it came time to shop at Macy's Herald Square store. I hated clothes shopping but the hot dogs, one of my favorite foods, made the task more palatable.
Anyway, you would expect that losing the family business after so many years would have made Hakim despondent. But the exact opposite was the case. Hakim always told friends and family that losing the store was one of the luckiest days of his life. The reason for his unexpected reaction was that a freak accident occurred shortly after he left the premises. It seems that demolition nearby weakened his building and caused it to collapse suddenly and completely. Hakim said he would almost certainly have been standing behind the counter and killed instantly if he had been working at that time. The eviction was a blessing in disguise!
I had a similar kind of experience about 25 years ago. At that time I was seeking an attractive job with the Port Authority of New York and New Jersey. A friend at my then present job had moved to the Port Authority, liked it a lot, and arranged an interview for me with two of his colleagues after giving them a glowing recommendation about me. I felt sure I would enjoy making this move, but to my surprise I didn't get an offer. Needless to say, I was very disappointed and spent some time moping about it before resuming my life. It was only many years later that I realized what a blessing in disguise my not getting this job actually was. It turned out that the Port Authority had its offices on a high floor of the World Trade Center. When the twin towers were attacked on 9/11, a number of Port Authority officials were tragically killed, including the Executive Director and my friend Richard. If I had worked there, I would have been in an office near him as we did similar kinds of work. Like Hakim, I surely would have been killed when the towers fell. Instead, I was compelled to remain at my existing job, where I met my wife and from which I went on to interesting work elsewhere.
I think about these poignant work-related incidents whenever I consider the problems of frustrated and disappointed young people these days seeking the job of their dreams. Their distress is real and justified, but based on the life of Fred Hakim, myself, and I am sure many others, I would like to console them at least a little with the thought that sometimes not getting their imagined dream job might actually turn out to be a blessing in disguise. Occasionally you don't even get to realize it except in retrospect many years later.
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