求《Darken your graying hair,and hide your fright》原文!求原文!有翻译也行!

求《Darken your graying hair,and hide your fright》原文!求原文!有翻译也行!
求《Darken your graying hair,and hide your fright》原文!
求原文!有翻译也行!

求《Darken your graying hair,and hide your fright》原文!求原文!有翻译也行!
I am male,white,46.I have undergraduate and graduate degrees from two reasonably well-known Eastern institutions.My first job lasted for four years,my second for then,my third for seven.I have a wife,three daughters,a mortgaged home and a 1972 鈥淏eetle鈥 for which I paid cash.
Whereas I once earned over $ 400 a week,new York State now provides me with $ 95 a week in unemployment benefits.
The other day I encountered the man who fired me.He is an affable,bright man,and on the eve of retirement.Many months ago he told me I had outlived my usefulness,and he wished me well.The other day he said he knew what I have been going through.When I said he didn鈥檛,he looked just a little startled.He does not,never did,like to be contradicted.But I knew he had never been without work.I told him that physically,fiscally and spiritually I and all members of my family had been wiped out.Then he asked why I was having such trouble finding a new job.
The easiest,possibly even the only truthful answer would have been this:鈥淣o one wants me.鈥 But I told him what I know:My age,sex,and salary needs work against me.So,of course,does the shortage of jobs.Then he turned to talk with another passer-by; he meant well,though.
I have discovered there is an entire literature on the art of job-hunting.One book 鈥 I think it was the same one that said if you are over 35 and out of work,you鈥檙e in great trouble 鈥 offered a few how-to鈥檚 on rejuvenation:
If you have too much gray hair,darken it.If you look younger than you are,revise your birth date in your resume.Be relaxed during interviews,avoid personnel managers and go right to the top!
I have been told I look younger than 46,but if I change the year of my birth from 1931 to,say,1934.then I have to change graduate dates,military-service dates and previous-employment dates.Barring a gin-induced stupor,how can anyone be relaxed during an interview?( And why that noun?Why not 鈥渋nterrogation鈥?) My hair is too gray now.A dye,I think,would be conspicuous.
I went to Washington for an interview in early April.It lasted only 15 minutes because the salary was $ 10000 less than what I had been making.In Washington,that salary would translate into about $ 95 a week.
I used to ridicule lesser beings who drank martinis with their dinners.No longer.In fact,I usually continue after dinner.Vodka martinis.I know what I鈥檓 inviting ( or may already have ),but they do help me sleep.I should say get to sleep because I seldom lasts.I have nightmares,and I scream and I awaken others.Usually,I seem to be in pursuit of an object of one kind or another; just as I鈥檓 within reach it moves beyond my touch.Then I scream.
Among our neighbor is a young psychiatrist.My wife has suggested that I talk to him,friend-to-friend about my problems,paranoia,depression,nightmares.Perhaps he would know of a pill that would ease my anxieties.But I know the root of all my troubles,and unless he can provide me with a job,why bother with a pill?So I drink in lieu of a pill.
One interviewer eventually turned me down because,he said,I lack eyeball contact.When I called him to say I didn鈥檛 understand,he told me that because of my courage in asking such a question,he would reopen 鈥渢he discussions.鈥 We had dinner at the Yale Club,in New York ( he had one beer,I had nothing),and he said we had misread each other鈥檚 鈥渟ignals.鈥 We would start afresh,and he would be back in touch with me.A month later,he wrote to tell me that he had decided not to fill the position after all.( I heard shortly afterward that he had lost his job.)
A vice president of an organization asked me to meet him for breakfast at a Park Avenue hotel.Two days later,I received a note from him saying he was impressed by my credentials,liked my answers to his questions and would probably invite me for additional interviews.I was skeptical,but two days later his assistant ushered me to the president.
A week later,I was told that everything had gone well and that I could expect a decision three months later.It was formal,brief and negative.The job went to a young woman.
A friend of mine,a president,once told me that whenever he advertises a vacancy,it鈥檚 an easy matter to skim off the four or five most outstanding candidates.After their interviews,he compares not their experience,but their statistics 鈥 their total compensation packages,retirement and medical benefits in particular.If you鈥檙e not young,he said,it sure helps to be single.I,as he knows,am neither.
I鈥檓 never sure just how the children are taking it.I think they see it all in very different ways,for they are not at all alike.One is a sphinx,one seems almost removed,and one sees it all.But they all know my countenance and can interpret it.They know I spend most of the week in my chair.Only one of them has said that I no longer talk,and I frown when others are talking.
There are times when I wonder not whether I will ever have a job again,but whether if I do.I will be able to function.For almost a year,I have not done what I was trained to do.
The invitations for interviews never come by mail,always by telephone.So I stay home and wait for the phone to ring.After the newspaper there is coffee,and junk mail,and boredom.I eat too much for lunch because there鈥檚 nothing else to do.Lately a friend has supplied me with Irish novels and short stories,all new and none published in this country.I am Irish and know something of earlier Irish literature,but my friend鈥檚 books offer little release,less escape.
When the phone does ring,it鈥檚 usually someone asking for one of our daughters to baby-sit.鈥淲e have to go out tonight,鈥 and I was just wondering if 鈥滭br/>At dusk,in those unearthly hours between sleep and wakefulness,I have visions.I see pictures of small-bore pistols.Lethal,but,I hope,quick and comparatively painless.Not heroic,certainly,but not cowardly either.But then,there鈥檚 my wife and our daughters.Because I love 鈥 and I do 鈥 all four.I have to ask whether my death is preferable to my despair.I do not know.Would they be better off without me?I do not know.When I first lost my job,the real pain derived from the eventual realization that I had failed not only myself but four others.
I weep when I write my mother,my brother and my sister.I tell them that we鈥檙e all well,that the family fabric is intact,that I have a half-dozen irons in the fire.But they鈥檝e heard all that too many times,now,so I seldom write.
I have nothing to say.