To be almost trite in my wording, I experienced another life-changing or defining event: layoff. My responsibilities at Nike, Inc. ended at 10:30AM after twenty-seven years in a Zoom call—de rigueur in a post-COVID-19 USA with so many gun shootings. Matt, the V.P. of our department, explained the company was letting me go as part of their planning. An H.R. person displayed a letter that showed a more than generous severance package. They promised a yet-to-be-received email with details and my termination letter. F**k it is over!
My emotions swing back and forth. Other events had prevented me from retiring for years, and I am just six months from Susie’s passing and weeks away from brain surgery. I would have stayed at the shoe company for a few more years to show I could do it and pay back so much for their help.
I am sad I will not be part of the careers of my co-workers (especially the Master Data Governance team under Rajani); I am happy in the present and hungry for what the future brings.
Returning to the narrative, I rose, knowing today would be emotional and difficult to find focus no matter the events. Earlier, I got up at 6AM to check if I had The Email, nope, and slept into 7AM. I started with the usual making of liberal coffee, Equal Exchange, toasting a NYC bagel, and then covering it with cream cheese. I returned to the office to find The Email with a Zoom meeting (yes, a f**king Zoom meeting) with Matt, our V.P., at 10:30. Yup, I knew my career with Nike would now be measured in only a few hours. I reflected on my walk to Air Volvo on Thursday in the WHQ Swift building parking lot. At the time, I thought it was possibly the last time I would leave work and be inside Swift WHQ. It was a strange moment with dread of the change. I am not afraid of the results; it is just the usual butterfly from change. I remember grimly driving out of Nike’s WHQ. It should, as I think back, have a dramatic addition like Morgon Freeman reading a poem as a voiceover or some appropriate 90s music as a soundtrack.
Returning (again), well, now what? I remember thinking. I cleaned up and dressed. Only the non-visible (from a Zoom camera) socks were Nike. I picked an L.L. Bean white button-down collar dress shirt, a pride tie (yes, a f**king tie), and my LandsEnd blue sweater vest. I adjusted the Nike laptop so the camera had me in frame with my framed Soviet-age poster in the background with Lennon’s face a meter across (“Workers Revolt!). Yes, I was not intimidated or worried, which was the message I wanted; I hope they remember the guy in the tie with Lennon.
I did my last actual meeting and approved one last software change for Nike. I resisted letting folks in the meeting know I had The Email and The Meeting. I did let Brad know, and he was supportive. Rajani, my new boss, who was new to Nike and brilliant, was shocked and in tears. He wanted a few more years to work together, and leaving him and his most excellent team is the hardest part of today. We did a Zoom meeting before The Meeting and talked with the cameras on for this last meeting. We both had tears.
For me, the scariest part of the horror movie or the roller coaster is the build-up or ride-up, and it was the same. I had an hour that took forever. I was nervous and excited, reminding me of the feelings (long ago) of job interviews or second dates. The usual agent of change personality took over as the meeting started, and Matt, looking pissed off and unhappy, explained I was gone. The meeting and process were over in a few minutes, with Lennon looking on.
I closed my Nike laptop and put my Nike phone on top. I used the phone a few times as text messages are sometimes delivered there instead of my new phone. Folks are still learning my new number. Later, I walked outside, retrieved my badge from Air Volvo, and put it on my corporate laptop. I removed the sticker with my name on the laptop later. The contents, my emails, and so on are now Nike’s property. There is little, if any, personal data on the system. I use my Apple and my new iPhone for that.
There are some boxes in the garage from my desk, when I had one, that I will check soon. I will see if I can find my official nameplate and return that, too. I will recycle/return anything that belongs to Nike. I never go backward; it is a mantra I have learned, so I will not need any of it.
I was free and retired, at least for the moment, and I did not know what to do. I called a few folks and updated Facebook. I told Corwin, who commented on what a stupid move for Nike it was.
Going back to what a dramatic scene would look like, I head to a Mexican-style food place with my latest book and my single phone (Nike’s phone still on top of the laptop and now struggling as my access to Nike is being destroyed–a digital fire is burning my digital self, michael.wild@nike.com with user MWILD, out of the computers; it will burn for a while). I left my Apple computer at home as my emotions were strange, and writing would be impossible. I got a margarita and lunch and sent out a picture of me at my new job, drinking and reading at a Mexican-styled place. That seemed the right action and would be perfect for another Morgon Freeman voiceover. I posted that to Facebook, and folks calmed down a bit.
Aside: There is an outcry at Nike about my leaving. Folks are hurt and upset that Nike would do this. It is not my issue; leadership at the shoe company will have to deal with it (this is the revised version without the word f**k).
I looked at travel, and the islands were expensive again. I looked at other locations, and Brad, still texting me to ensure I was OK, suggested Morocco for a sudden, unplanned trip. It took some time and a trip to the bookstore, Barnes and Noble, and then Powell’s to find a current Lonely Planet guide to Morocco. I booked a flight and will stay from April 25th evening to return on May 4th, just in time for Cinco De Mayo and a Dungeons and Dragons game. I used Expedia to do packages, and it took multiple attempts to get everything right. The trip was over 3,000 USD, with an extra $700 to adjust flights to be not totally stupid.
I reheated bean and ham soup for dinner and began watching travel YouTube items on Morocco. I learned that Casablanca is the largest city and is considered a new city and not a recommended tourist city. It reminded me of the description of my second home in India, Chennai, that I love. Few places on this earth are so busy, so polluted, so hot as there–and so proud. I suspect I will love Casablanca. There are day trips to other locations, so I can make it all work. Hotels are always a risky venture to go cheap, so I instead spent more on a Mövenpick Hotel. I used the same brand in Istanbul to great success. As my French is nearly non-existent but better than my Arabic, I needed to pick a business hotel that could deal with a crazy American.
Time flew fast, and soon, it was near 11PM, and I was still bouncing with energy. I was also exhausted by the emotions. The sudden freedom, the trip, and all the chaos had me living on adrenalin. The fade started as I showered. I soon was sleepy and, in my L.L. Bean P.J.s, rested and read about the history of Assyria in Eric Cline’s new book, After 1177 BCE. I managed to complete the chapter and enjoy all the new information Eric lists. My 1980s college classes and Sunday School teaching in the 1990s made it all familiar, and I was thrilled to see where new connections and information have brought more fidelity to my mental images of these times.
I soon was asleep with no alarm set and a decision to sleep in.
Thanks for reading!
Alohawild (Michael Wild's) Website 