Got Yer CV’s ‘G & I Redner-Rendering Svc.’ job history right here. Just Copy & Paste

    Stick this in your Resume, folks. Yeah, it’s probably what got me my new job, you know; seeing that awesome firm‘s name there, and my experience working for the outfit. So feel free to tack it onto your curriculm vitae‘. Lucky me; I won’t be needing it anymore.
   
Lots of readers probably think ‘rendering’ has something to do with web pages. Hah, it’s just a stolen use of the term by clueless modern cyborgs who never took a dead cow apart in their life.
But still, I was ready when the Human Services Rep asked me what I’d done there. I tried to explain:
“Well, you know there’s the Head, and the Body, and then of course the Foot?” I said, starting out on the right hoof. I could tell right off that he was buying it. Body language and all that. So I added, “…hey, somebody’s got to make sure they all appear in the right places.”
“And that somebody was you?” he asked.
I tried to look modest: “Well maybe not the first month.”
   
The fellow was pretty spiffilly-dressed, compared to the folks I’d worked with; not a spot of  blood or guts on his shirt. Maybe this new outfit can afford free-loaders in the Front Office? I thought, but kept it to myself. He opened a Word-file(?)  on his ‘laptop’ (that’s what they call it?) and started with some questions. I think I handled them ok:
“So how’re you with Java?”
“No Problem. I did that for the guys, every morning, till I farmed it out to another new-hire.”
“And CSS?”
I had to think for a second, not wanting to lie or anything. CSS? Yeah, he probably means the ‘Cadaver Selection Specialist’ title they gave me, half in jest, at the New Year’s party.
“‘CSS‘? That’s kinda my ‘middle name‘, Steve.” I told him, relaxing into the naugahyde.
“Cut and Paste?” he continued down the list, as my confidence only increased.
“Ha, if there’s a critter I ain’t cut, I’d like to meet him.”, then added: “‘Paste‘ now? Yeah,
been there, done that, but the smell, you know?”
Steve looked a tad puzzled, but kept going with the script:
“Drag ‘n Drop?”
I thought for a second, not wanting to risk another wrinkled brow, but then:
“Well, I’ve dragged some fillies from the damndest places. Then dropped ’em smack in the ‘new location’, bingo.”
“‘Files‘, you mean?”
“Yeah, Stevie boy. A horse by any other name, you know.”
“Browsers?”
This guy was making me a little nervous, but so far so good. It’s just that nobody ever called a
cow a ‘browser’, that I remembered. A ‘grazer’, maybe. They’re technically ‘ruminants’. Got four stomachs, to deal with digesting roughage. You wear a gas mask starting with #2. Still got mine, in the attic somewhere. But finally, I answered:
“Browsers? No prob. Yeah, I know my way around the guts of a browser. Got any hard questions, guy?” I replied, going on the offense.
Steve scrolled down, I guess they call it. Must’ve bumped the bottom of the TV-thingie’s screen. He looked away for a second, as if searching for more bullets.
“Hide?” was all he found on that little trip.
“Well, we didn’t do hides in-house.”, I confessed, “Old George always said ‘Hides, that’s an outside job’.” I laughed, hoping Steve would be similarly amused. He wasn’t, but hey, can’t win ’em all. Steve picked up my curriculum vitae, scanning it hurridly:
“So how long’s Redner been in business?” he asked.
“Nineteen oh-seven; that makes a hundred years an’ change, right?” I beamed proudly. Steve gaped at me like a man whose butt just fell off:
“A hundred years? That’s like, before I was born!?”
“Righto, puppy. And me too.” I consoled him. But it was too late.
“So what were they doing for the first 80 years, in web-development?” Steve demanded to know. I felt the blood drain into my socks, thought about how much I needed a real gig, you know, and not as some hack chopping up rotting animal carcasses for the Recycling Bin. And somehow, I got my second wind:
“Listen, Stevie, Redner pioneered Broom Solutions to Web Development.” I gushed, on a new roll. “Plus, they’ve always been the greenest of the green. I mean, the grid goes down, your UPS times-out, whadaya do, boss? Righto, You light a f*ckin candle, is what. And where do candles come from?”
“Redner? was all Steve could limply offer.
“Right on, bro. Tallow. Google it sometime.”
And with that wax-job, Steve, either by my sheer personal magnetism or through brow-beating seemed to fold his cards:
“Well, Mr Solberg, I guess we might as well have a quick tour, to show you what your new job entails.”
For some reason, I heard ‘entrails’.

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23 thoughts on “Got Yer CV’s ‘G & I Redner-Rendering Svc.’ job history right here. Just Copy & Paste

  1. Roadkill_Spatula

    My ex-brother-in-law was on a paleontology field trip in Colorado one time doing some digging in a roadcut with his team. A local yokel pulled up in his truck and asked, “What are you all doing?””Looking for bones,” someone said.”What kind?””Oh, camel, elephant, ancient horses, stuff like that.””Well, you ain’t likely to find much around here,” he said. “Rendering plant comes around and gathers ’em up pretty near soon as they’re dead.”

    Reply
  2. TheCrimesOfDougMoe

    As they say in Hebrew: Parah bei-tokh beit (cow inside house).  In 1983 or so, maybe 1984, I was with an IDF task force that went into Cfar Alouweezah in southern Lebanon, a Shia village where Shabak was arresting some men, and I literally saw a house in the village in which a cow was looking out the window with big brown eyes.  It was obvious that the cow was in a room within the same structure as the humans.

    Reply
  3. jsolberg

    @Roadkill_Spatula – Oh that’s a precious story, Tim. And insight into the progress of evolution in some locales.I guess file this post with my ‘Port-noise Complaints series’. Hi-tech (-sic-) keeps stealing our bones, just when we finally got the old grinding machine purring along. And when I ask ’em “So, how many acres is your ‘site’, they give *me* a dumb look.”

    Reply
  4. jsolberg

    @TheCrimesOfDougMoe – Usually we kept ’em in the basement. Warmer, and easier to clean. These days all I got is chickens under the bed, but I’m shopping around. Need some beasts big enough to be unafraid of all the jackals, foxes, and hyenas here.

    Reply
  5. twoberry

    Never been in a room with a cow before.I think my Xangexperiences have helped me with my Security job in that only one of my coworkers seems to have more ‘puter knowledge than I do.  So I found this an especially interesting read.Of course since most of my thinking is Scrabble-oriented C-V seemed more Consonant-Vowel than Curriculum Vitae.  Even Cardio-Vascular, being that my Security job is at a hospital, came in ahead of Curriculum Vitae.There was a time that I had to place just the severed arm of a (living) person in the hospital morgue, for funeral home pickup.  Had something to do with the amputee’s religion.  So I could relate to the second paragraph as well.

    Reply
  6. jsolberg

    @twoberry – Wow. I thank my luck I have readers with as much to say as you, friend. I needed the ‘CV’ desperately so that the name of the rendering firm would read as a palindrome (although I didn’t call attention to it; more like a test of eyesight, ha) For me, ‘CV’ is either ‘constant velocity’ (avle joints in front-end drive vehicles) or Conestoga Valley, a high school whose pole vaulter was my neck-and-neck rival all the way up to 13 feet.I do think that a severed arm is firmly in the ‘me..and my arm’ dep’t, as opposed to a head, where reasonable men differ on ‘Me & my head.’ or ‘Me and my body’. Watch the movie “The Tenant’ by Polanski for more insight there.Yeah, it was fun writing this, and your thoughtful read and comment just made my day. I was torn between having the job-applicant character aware, or unaware, of the difference between the two ‘rendering’s. In the end he’s pulling a fast one; the reader knows that, but Steve doesn’t, so there’s some fun. I’d love to see MelFamy, to name just one shining writer here, re-do it as a truly doubly-blind farce.Again, many thanks, and do enjoy your work/js

    Reply
  7. elgan

    I learn so much from your posts. My mom used to render chicken fat with onions, and my favourite thing was to pick the griebn out of the strainer after all the melted fat had dripped into the ceramic Dundee marmalade jar she stored it in. I suppose you uns would call them “crackling”. Whatever, as the kids say nowadays.

    Reply
  8. jsolberg

    @elgan – Frankly, I held my hands over my eyes for the whole schmaltz-flick. Was scared I’d grow up wearing a dress just by contact, I guess.And TV farm-life always shows an odd over-abundance of free time for the kids. I often wonder who’s out running the tractors, getting down silage, feeding the heifers, g’noching the new kittens in the chicken house.’Nother weird thing: You always had to get the poor cow out of the field when one went down. And before sun-set. Otherwise you’d be looking at a week-long drop in production during the Shiva. Facts. The Lost Tribe?

    Reply
  9. jsolberg

    @ordinarybutloud – more the latter than the former, OBL. But it never comes out smelling like what the luscious girls who live in town used.We kept the soap in boxes. Boxes with names on them. ‘Bonnie’ or ‘Beatrice’. Or ‘Beulah-Mae’; now *there* was a great soap cow for ya; that she was.

    Reply
  10. jsolberg

    @opticalnoise – Shh.. Careful what you laugh-off now, dear. The truck with the winch will be along any minute, and they don’t ask questions.Seriously, a joy to hear you liked it. The little flaw in the story, as I mentioned to Twoberry above, is that it’s not clear how much the job-seeker knows about the outfit he’s trying to hire at. (Of course that fits my Xanga-persona fine, ha) Hope to see you again here/js

    Reply
  11. we_deny_everything

    I’m not sure I follow this. Even if we would unmask the proprietary drill-down metastructures of the proximate dimensional system, there would still be essentially nothing to view . . . UNLESS WE COULD SOMEHOW INVERT THE PRURIENT DATA STRUCTURE.

    Reply
  12. jsolberg

    @we_deny_everything – “Tirade” Nah, jus kidding. Man being a pattern-seeker and condemned to ascribe meaning to any arbitrary toss of the dice, I pore over your on-the-surface-wtf? phrasing to drill-back-up the nutshell contention. (Like I commented on, I believe, a Spam post of yours: “I had a girlfriend like that once,” Masks are ‘destructive’ operators; but magically removing one restores, in principle, the original. And of course what Man inverts, another man can always ‘de-invert’.I’ve had some experience with prurient data. No, not the bytes of a pron-jpeg, but an innocent file/filly, imported into RAM and tramped through by a runaway errant routine. An awful thing to watch happening. Makes a guy wanna go back to the hide and tallow racket.Thanks for the challenge, buddy; next up: making sense of beta decay. Got to be a pony in there somewhere.

    Reply
  13. jsolberg

    @Lakakalo – I’m tickled you enjoyed it. It appears we both have at least average ‘native intelligence’. That by itself rockets one to the top of the heap, by the looks of it sometimes. And hell, I’ve ‘processed’ goats who would’ve been ashamed to make some of the screw-ups you see in page design.

    Reply

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