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The Curse of the Unemployed Is About to Strike Vorceak and Cool Harry

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Who Is in a Hurry?

I said his van “whizzed” past. That may be an exaggeration. He is in no hurry for the next 30 days to pass.

As the latest Culver City business owner to be grabbed by his ear and tossed, unceremoniously, into the street — a sacrificial lamb for the light rail — Mr. Vorceak only will be driving to work at 10 in the morning for one more month.

As of April 15, his longtime business, Metal Art wrought iron furniture, 8829 Exposition Blvd., will be shut down, by the city.

Building to Disappear

Shortly afterward, Metal Art will be razed to clear a path for the light rail trail and for the commercial/residential complex that will accompany it.

We are told much of Culver City will be cheering, without restraint, in anticipation of the arrival of a light rail station, the most touted event in modern Culver City history.

As the cheering soars to the blue skies over Culver City, Mr. Vorceak glumly will be sitting, wordlessly but not thoughtlessly, on the sidelines.

Pondering what he is going to do next.

Shifting the Focus of His Future

So will Harry Segil. The owner of Cool Harry’s art furniture, on National Boulevard, is only a few yards from Mr. Vorceak’s fast fading business. He faces a slightly earlier deadline.

Neighbors, they share the pain because they are swimming in the same steaming, foggy stew.

Mr. Segil and Mr. Vorceak both are at that difficult age in life when men as well as women rub one hand across their mouths when asked their age, the better to muffle their answer.

Too young to retire.

Not nearly well enough set, psychologically or financially, to retire — given that people commonly are living 30 years beyond retirement.

Is There Ever a Good Time?

If you ever have known anyone who is 60ish and out of work, you understand their dual dilemma.

Yesterday they were independent business owners. Today they are looking at the world from ground level.

Yesterday they were pillars of the community. Today they are leaning against pillars to prevent themselves from toppling.

The Answer Is a Shrug

Tellingly, both Mr. Vorceak and Mr. Segil have given the same answer when I have asked each, separately, what he is going to do after closing.

“I don’t know,” they say.

Not a hint of the vaguest plan.

Have you, dear reader, ever been out of work?

Why Leave Your Bed?

Without a firm daily schedule, what do you do after you have dressed and done breakfast?

Eight or 10 hours to kill.

When you see someone you know, the person will ask how you are doing, then what you are doing.

I have known people who have hibernated during this period rather than face the stinging, eyes-down embarrassment of admitting the truth.

How Many Times Can You Explain?

Some people won’t know the circumstances.

Why aren’t you in business anymore?

Will you have the energy to pony up a response 25 times a week?

This is a stressful test.

What Is Your Limit?

What is a core belief, deep inside, that will keep you stable and hopeful during this unbelievably dreary period?

Just as women trying to become pregnant seem to encounter mothers-to-be everywhere they go, when Mr. Segil and Mr. Vorceak peer outside, at any hour, they will see strangers and friends going to and from work.

Candor vs. Discretion

No matter how much time you spend in bed, or hiding out at home, eventually you must make an appearance — whether at church, the supermarket, the service station or your children’s schools.

Just Wondering

Without intending to be insensitive, curious friends will ask, again, what you are doing.

How long can you be vague?

Is it as obvious to them as it is to you that you are being evasive?

Will there ever be a time to proffer creative answers?

Shhhh. Here comes the light rail.

Let the ironic cheering resume.