November 15, 1996
I was sitting with one of my operatives in Coffee By The Gallon the other day, having a cappucino mocha triple-caff latte, and he said that last week’s edition sounded rather hostile, not only to Russia, but to travel in general. I’d like to set the record straight, because nothing could be further from the truth. I had a wonderful time, and even if I’d had a lousy time, I wouldn’t give up a minute of it. Years ago, I learned to always appreciate travelling and experiencing new cultures, to make the best of whatever happens on any journey life takes us on. It was a lesson taught to me by Uncle Rupert. You may remember that Uncle Rupert failed in his attempt to drive to Europe, but there’s more to the story, and it has a very important moral lesson. During World War II, Uncle Rupert applied for military service. Although his application was stamped "Try Again Next War", he was put on a list of volunteers who would be called up in the event of a shortage of hostages. That wasn’t good enough for Rupert. He decided he’d drive to Europe and see how things were going. Like any good traveller, he made many stops along the way, and saw a lot of new and strange things. He travelled through towns that had more than one paved road. He saw his first bank which had soft, comfortable chairs he would have spent all day in if some stranger in a uniform hadn’t tried to take his rifle away. The most exciting part, he said, was seeing how potatoes grow. He used to amaze us with tales of how he could pull the stem of an ordinary looking plant and potatoes would pop right out of the ground. Then he’d have to run, because someone would start yelling at him. Still, he said, those were the best potatoes he ever had, partly because of the unusual flavor you can only get from cooking on an engine block. Finally he had to turn around and come back because he couldn’t make sense of the map he had, which was probably the same one Columbus used, but he never spoke bitterly about his journey. No, Uncle Rupert had been seized by the urge to travel. There were those who claimed he got the urge only when he accidentally shot a neighbor’s parrot, or after he happened to burn some leaves a little too close to another neighbor’s storage shed, but we know the truth. Only once did I hear him speak sadly of never making it to Europe. But, he said in his philosophical way, it was probably all for the best. With a war on, the place was probably full of foreigners.
Real Examples From Real Resumes
–Here are my qualifications for you to overlook.
REASONS FOR LEAVING THE LAST JOB:
–Responsibility makes me nervous.
–They insisted that all employees get to work by 8:45 every morning. Couldn’t work under those conditions.
–Was met with a string of broken promises and lies, as well as cockroaches.
–I was working for my mom until she decided to move.
–The company made me a scapegoat – just like my three previous employers.
JOB RESPONSIBILITIES:
–While I am open to the initial nature of an assignment, I am decidedly disposed that it be so oriented as to at least partially incorporate the experience enjoyed heretofore and that it be configured so as to ultimately lead to the application of more rarefied facets of financial management as the major sphere of responsibility.
–I was proud to win the Gregg Typting Award.
SPECIAL REQUESTS & JOB OBJECTIVES:
–Please call me after 5:30 because I am self-employed and my employer does not know I am looking for another job.
–My goal is to be a meteorologist. But since I have no training in meteorology, I suppose I should try stock brokerage.
–I procrastinate – especially when the task is unpleasant.
PHYSICAL DISABILITIES:
–Minor allergies to house cats and Mongolian sheep.
PERSONAL INTERESTS:
–Donating blood. 14 gallons so far.
SMALL TYPOS THAT CAN CHANGE THE MEANING:
–Education: College, August 1880-May 1984.
–Work Experience: Dealing with customers’ conflicts that arouse.
–Develop and recommend an annual operating expense fudget.
–I’m a rabid typist.
–Instrumental in ruining entire operation for a Midwest chain operation.
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