Act 1 – Gonnections

Scene 3 – Career Day

My dad was a real estate loan officer with a major bank. He knew a number of local builders, including a fellow named Corky McMillin who had enjoyed some success since starting with one house in the mid-1960s. My dad got me an interview at McMillin’s office in National City. Now if you know anything about National City, you know that it is not a high-rent district.  But I was coming from modest circumstances and was in no position to judge.

Like too many events in my past, the details of the interview are lost. All I know is that I got hired as a management trainee. I was one of three recent graduates to be accorded that title, a weighty one for so little pay. We all did three- to six-month stints in various departments. I started with construction, doing things you would have an intern do today like check plans out to subcontractors, compare bids, and write change orders. After three months, Christmas came in the form of dozens of bottles of booze from subs. There were so many that some of them trickled down to the underclass. I remember thinking that things could be worse, though I wasn’t sure this was what I was meant to do.

In early 1978, one of my fellow management trainees learned of my degree and, through his father, got me an interview at The San Diego Union. It pays to have gonnections.[1]

So, I went to the newspaper’s offices, beautiful five-year-old buildings in Mission Valley. In those days, we didn’t have services that prepped you for an interview. I showed up with a resume but no plan. It didn’t matter. I don’t think there was even a job. I suspect it was what one would call a “courtesy” interview today, though it was less than courteous. The guy pulled out a file drawer – about as long as the one in Bruce Almighty – stuffed with file folders. This part I remember. Vividly. Word for word. He said, “These are all resumes from people who currently write for major metropolitan dailies, and they want to live in San Diego. Why should I hire you?”

I was speechless. The next day, I was back to work at McMillin. I moved on to other departments: Land Acquisition, Engineering, and finally Marketing.

Next: Scene 4 – Building a Future

[1] Mr. Wolfsheim’s lower-class diction

Mr. Wolfsheim speaks in a dialect that indicates his lack of education, lack of class, and general lack of what wealthy, snobby people in the 1920s might have called “good breeding.” Oxford becomes “Oggsford;” “Connection” becomes “gonnection.” The use of different dialects works to reveal the differences between the working class and the upper class. By contrasting Wolfsheim’s and Gatsby’s diction with that of people like Nick Carraway, Fitzgerald suggests that those involved in organized crime are necessarily working class – no matter how wealthy and powerful they appear to be. http://www.shmoop.com/great-gatsby/characterization.html