“Do you guys ever think about dying?”
If you saw the Barbie movie, you know the line. Barbie is living the perfect and perfectly plastic life, perfectly choreographed and full of perfect smiles.
But the movie turns on that one line, basically shattering Barbie’s world with a concept no one there would ever have considered.
Death.
Why would you consider it when everything seemed in perfect order?
Well, when it comes to broadcasting and media, a lot of you think about dying … a lot. I do, too.
Of course, it’s not the stop breathing and get buried type of death but rather, the death of a career in media.
The truth is, when it comes to our business, very few people get to choose when it ends. Take a minute and consider a major media personality who truly “retired” after a multi-decade career.
It happens, but percentage-wise, it’s rare.
Take a minute and think. Name some. Name one. It’s not easy.
More often than not, you will get laid off or fired before you want to leave, and after a certain age, getting that next opportunity may be a bridge too far.
Then, you are done done.
That’s as much a music stopper as Barbie admitting she has considered her own mortality in the middle of the dance floor. Here on planet Earth, at least from the people in my orbit, the death of a media career often leads to even better professional options and more balanced lifestyle choices.
I have friends doing a million different things: Public relations, crisis management, content creation for large companies, political communications, fundraising, and teaching. Almost all of them tell me that it was such a stress relief to have a “normal” life, to not be worried about every pending contract or new boss.
Their work is appreciated. Their job is stable. And their schedule? Normal. Never has “normal” sounded so lovely than when they talk about watching shows with spouses, going out for a drink on a Tuesday, or having a regular pickleball game (or insert any middle-aged recreational sport).
I believe them.
Sort of.
The “sort of” comes from me not being able to actually envision that for myself. As enticing as it would be to see people on a more accessible schedule or play a weekly game with buddies, nothing beats talking and writing for a living. Nothing. And I am going to hang on until the lights are out, and we can’t pay to get them turned back on.
For me, I’m in too deep. I’m an indoor cat, incapable of survival outside.
Meetings. Deadlines. Reliant on other people. Meetings.
I’d be dead in a week. It’s beyond no, thank you. It’s, “I can’t”.
Sure, I have three teenagers and three college tuitions to pay. And two dogs. Two cars. And a mortgage.
Here’s where I am supposed to tell you that you should not only have thoughts about (career) death but also have a survival plan – a professional media-career living will if you would.
I should tell you that because you should.
But I don’t have one. And I don’t want one.
Why?
Because I don’t want to think about death anymore. I mean, I’ve already died twice. It wasn’t fun, and the third time most likely would be the charm in terms of getting me out of the business for good.
Why so stubborn? I don’t know.
Several times, I’ve said to myself, I need to make sure I have a backup plan … just in case. Each time, I find a reason not to get one.
Ultimately, what’s my point? Get a backup plan. Think about death. But it can’t take away from the essential joy of having the privilege of talking for a living. In that vein, don’t take it for granted. Ever. Even if the pay stinks and the schedule stinks. If you think about career death so much that it detracts from being in the moment, maybe it really is time to move on.
Brian Shactman is a weekly columnist for Barrett News Radio. In addition to writing for BNM, Brian can be heard weekday mornings in Hartford, CT on 1080 WTIC hosting the popular morning program ‘Brian & Company’. During his career, Brian has worked for ESPN, CNBC, MSNBC, and local TV channels in Connecticut and Massachusetts. You can find him on Twitter @bshactman.
I really enjoyed your observations, Brian. You speak for a lot of people in the media world.
Early in my career, I spent an inordinate time consumed by “But what’s next?” Sure, this job I’m doing now is challenging, stimulating, and pays respectably. Where am I going to be next year? Or two years from now. It was not healthy.
So, I did the smartest thing I could do. I started my own company. It’s been 40 years, and it’s been mostly good, save for the Great Recession and COVID.
But it won’t end on a pink slip or a job cut. It’s more likely to run out of steam when people stop hiring me. It’s been rewarding but I have worked much harder and sacrificed more than if I was employed by a “normal company.”
I’m the greatest boss I’ve ever had. 🙂