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Getting to the next level
I hate that phrase. What’s that supposed to mean? If the person who runs the company — and I’m assuming he or she is the one who bought the ad — CAN’T take it to the next level, then he or she goes out and hires a complete stranger who CAN take it to the next level, then wouldn’t that make the person they hired smarter and more qualified than the boss. So, technically, shouldn’t that ad read: “Wanted: Someone smarter than the dummy who’s now running this company. If you can take us to the next level, we’re going to dump his sorry butt.” Of course, that’s not what that ad means. No one really knows where “the next level” is, except maybe Captain Kirk. “Give us (DRAMATIC PAUSE) more power Scotty (DRAMATIC PAUSE) we’ve got to get to the (DRAMATIC PAUSE) next level to escape the evil clutches of (DRAMATIC PAUSE) the Klingon warriors.” Actually, that’s probably how Kirk got that job. He answered an ad for someone to take the Starship Enterprise to the next level. INTERVIEWER: “You know we’re looking for someone to take this ship to the next level. What makes you think you’re that man?” KIRK: “Because I know where the WARP SPEED BUTTON is on this bucket. Watch this!” CLICK! WHOOOOOOOOSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHH... INTERVIEWER (WITH HIS JAWS FLAPPING AGAINST HIS EARS LIKE A BASSET HOUND WITH ITS HEAD OUT THE CAR WINDOW): “OK, OK, Make it stop. You’re hired. You’re hired!” I’ve always wanted to answer one of those “the next level” ads just so I could demonstrate the stupidity of that statement. INTERVIEWER: “You know, we’re looking for someone who can take us to the next level. Do you think you can do that? ME: “Yes sir. Yes sir, I do. INTERVIEWER (SOMEWHAT SKEPTICAL): “Really?” ME: “Yes sir. I’ve got a plan to do just that. If you’ll come with me outside, I’ll show you.” WEWALK OUT IN FRONT OF THE BUILDING AND I POINT TO THE ROOF. ME: “It’s up there.” INTERVIEWER: “What’s up there?” ME: “My plan to take you to the next level.” INTERVIEWER: “What do you mean?” ME: “Well, we add another floor right there on top of this one, then we move everything on this floor up to the new floor. That way, we’ve taken you to the next level.” HAH-HAH-HAH. I just kill myself. Wouldn’t that be a kneeslapper? Can’t you see that old stuffed shirt interviewer scrambling to find his bottle of Maalox? I was watching a TV show the other night and this poor sap was applying for a job with a person of the ilk not unlike the aforementioned interviewer. The interviewer asked the applicant if he had “a 5-year plan.” A 5-year plan. Puh-leeeze. If they ever ask me that question, I’m going to tell them about my 5-year plan. “Listen pal,” I’ll say. “My 5-year plan is NOT TO DIE. That’s my plan. I’m too old to be setting any new goals or falling for any of this abstract motivational baloney. At this point I’m looking to pretty much ... well, let’s see ... outlive Dick Clark. “Now, can we hurry this along? I’ve got to take my back pill and I think that Metamucil is about to kick in, which will make my 5-MINUTE PLAN a whole lot more important than my 5year plan. “Which reminds me — if I do happen to help you guys get to the next level, can you make sure there’s a bathroom on that level so I won’t have so far to walk? That’d be right nice.” (Klonie Jordan is executive editor of The Gaffney Ledger. You can contact him via e-mail at editor@gaffneyledger.com) |
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