At UBF I learnt  about Graphology

Six months or so before that class, I considered my prospects as a redundant chemical engineer from CSR Gyprock. A near thirty-year career had ended ingloriously, compliments of the corporations failed Chinese Adventure. Folk who’d gone overseas  were repatriated to Australia when the fiasco failed and returnees were parachuted into the roles of others who had stayed home maintaining local operations. T’was a salutary experience, to be replaced by folk you’d previously supervised, and have your role dissected into thirds.

A brief consultancy in plasterboard in Indonesia had followed. This used my expertise and valued the skills honed over years. When this assignment was complete similar opportunities were scarce, contacts in the industry dried up and desperation set in. With four kids, one at university and three in a private secondary school, the financial pressure was palpable.

Typically with thirty or so applications per week on the new platform  I remained hopeful. However, positive responses were 10 % of applications made and less than 2% resulted in an interview.

I recall traipsing all over Brisbane, following up this lead or that, slowly sensing a disconnect from the paid workforce. It was a nervous scary time.

Responding to a strange ad from a Sydney consultancy seemed little different from the others. I flew down to Sydney for the interview near the Rocks in an Art Deco Office block at  242 George St.

It was intense. No company names, but a deep interest in me, from a perspective not usually broached in job interviews. It was a small company, little known, extremely tightly held with vast financial reach. I was intrigued but learned little and waited a few weeks.

The next interview at the consultancy was a couple of months later, with the owner, a clearly well-educated dude, with Eastern suburbs ease. The consultant had shared that this son of the original patriarch had not persisted with his father’s penchant for phrenology. No matter, I looked it up and figured if this was a job maybe I should get my head read. Phrenological Map

If somehow its got you all this dough, helped you pick the right folk, then who’s to say its wrong?

But without getting  my head examined I got the job.



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