Revolving Door

The worst part about this television business is the revolving door.

In entry-level markets, people sign two year contracts then move on a few months after that term ends. The thinking is that after two years of pay just above minimum wage, your skills have improved enough to earn bigger pay in a bigger market.

The abstract idea became concrete reality two weeks ago when one of my closest friends at the station, Adam Thompson, left for a job in Houston.

I knew he'd been looking to move on for a while, but when he put in his two weeks notice it was surprising and hit hard. I've been hanging out with him since I moved to Medford. Hanging out on weekends. Karaokeing. Talking film. Watching Netflix. Drinking beers. Taking pictures.

Back in April, he and I worked together on a documentary. It was meant to be the cornerstone of his resume tape, but he got hired before it was even finished. That's how good he is.

On his last day, Friday, May 20th, his last day, we went to a tiny drive-up style diner we'd frequented in the past. Phil's Frosty was delicious. Later that night, we went to a bar and grabbed drinks and said goodbye.

Unlike commencement in college and schools, where classmates and friends move on in groups at the same time each year, hirings are staggered. So are the leavings.

I'm getting a crash course in this life lesson.