employer relations

A wise man at the office gave me some advice on blogging the other day. He said that, due to my youth, I should be cautious about what I write. He told me to keep in mind that future employers will be searching for information about me using the web. They will probably look at my photos on websites like facebook, and if they find my blog, they might be interested to read what I have (or had) to say. I'm thankful to him for this advice because I wouldn't have thought about this otherwise. Upon further thought, though, instead of just being cautious, I'd like to communicate with my future employer:

To the sir, sirs, or ma'am this may concern,

I won't trouble you with the general course my life has taken; ie, schools I attended and previous jobs. All of this should be on my resume, which you're probably holding in your hands right now as you sit in your nice corner office. That's assuming, of course, everything hasn't gone to Virtual Reality by now. What company or firm would waste their money on offices when they could just strap on a pair of VR goggles, and go to work virtually? Not to mention the savings on clothes. The CEO could run a shareholders meeting by just sitting at home in his rope and slippers, while everyone else attending (virtually) sees the executive in one of his web-customizable fitted suits.  My assumption that you're holding my resume stands on another assumption; that paper is still in use. By now, I'm sure that after the successful two-term Obama administration, the number of young liberals has multiplied and they've finally gotten America environmentally conscious enough to save the rain forests by stopping paper use altogether (citing Fern Gully as a visionary artifact, right up there with the works of HG Wells and Al Gore). Of course, the hologram boom aided this transition as much as the liberals. Now, when you apply for a job, you just send your resume as a holographic file straight to your prospective employer via bluetooth (connectivity is now universal) by pressing a button on your wrist (or the side of your temple, whatever's "hip").  Actually, it's probably becoming more common to see a blue shimmer in someone's grin; an actual blue tooth that does the job that bluetooth headsets used to.  Some paranoid businesses still insist on storage basements for hard copies of everything, but I'm sure your faith in technology has overcome these fears of the past; that's what attracted me to your company in the first place. Actually, that's probably how you're reading this blog right now, by hologram, which is entirely hands-free. Hands are so twentieth century. The only things you need your hands for now are eating and driving. Speaking of driving, cars don't drive on roads anymore, do they (unless they have to)? Of course not, the air is now their autobahn. Popular Mechanics was right after all, and boy am I glad. The only intelligent debate that could be heard among my fellow third grade classmates and I was, "are there going to be flying cars when we grow up?" Whoever said no didn't get to sit at the cool table at lunch. I was disheartened when I "grew up" to find cars still on the ground. But thanks to Kia, now the world leaders in automobile technology and luxury cars, my boyhood dreams have come true.
So, employer, why not make my adulthood dreams come true? Hire me. You won't regret it. Of course, regret is also something of the past now. Memory can be erased as easily as those old dry-erase boards, now also replaced by the hologram. Speaking of memory, and since, by now, you've probably arranged a live interview with me (by live I mean virtual), can you deliver a message to me?

To future Jon:

You made it! Whoever this employer is, I'm sure it's at the top of whatever field you've chosen. Remember how hard it was to decide what you wanted to do? I don't know how that turned out yet, so don't ruin it for me! jk.

I want to take this time to remind you of a couple things:
Don't forget who you are, Jon. All this money that they are about to offer you, which I'm sure is an exorbitant amount, is just money.
Don't forget where you came from, Jon. So, don't forget me. I am you once. Remember that.
Also, I don't know what memories you've erased by now, so remember that the Frank Thomas rookie card with the error in his name, along with the MXPX "Chickmagnet" single, are buried near the water spigot in the back yard at Mom's (old) house. Face away from the spigot, take six steps forward, and four right. If you've somehow grown or enhanced your body with bionic limbs, remember you buried them at 15; adjust your steps accordingly. They should both be worth thousands now, which I'm sure isn't much to you now that you're at the top. You might as well, at least for posterity sake (although, unfortunately, you'll have to use your hands).

Employer, I hope you make the right decision. I'll thank you for delivering this message when I see you.

Jon Allison