I got in at MCI in 1993 due to one acronym in my resume: DFDSS.
That had to do with mainframe disk drives, back when they were the size of top-opening freezers designed to hold a side of beef. Now you can hold way more data on a smart card, but the side of beef has remained the same size.
Today I'm not worrying about what's on the resume any longer. Finding a job requires three things: The job has to be available, you must fit the requirements, and the hiring person has to like you.
Jobs aren't all that available around here unless you have security clearance, and I'm too old anyway. Three strikes, yer out!
However, and I just got a clear picture of this from an article in AARP magazine, after one passes the age of 50, a major change in life is likely coming -- if it didn't arrive a decade earlier. Depends on the individual, but in general, we live longer these days, and that's probably going to continue as a trend.
So what happens when the kids are all grown up and the career evaporates? What do you do for the next 30-50 years?
One of the guys in the article said that the first 50 years of life is a waste of time from the viewpoint of the individual. You're continually trying to fit into somebody else's mold, and if you are like me, you've had a lot of trouble squeezing into those little boxes.
About four years ago, I did a little exercise to figure out where to go next, and what I came up with was a bourbon-drinking, motorcycle riding writer of progressive fiction and non-fiction articles and books. Oh great, I thought, that means I won't be making doodly squat for years. Since then, I did get an 18-month paying contract in my old field, but that too evaporated.
But during this contract, I never gave up trying to work another way of making a living. As a result, I'm better situated for writing and playing music (another one of those starvation period things).
Here's the thing: Before 50, you do what others want you to do for relatively easy money. Most don't run off to be a best-selling novelist or rock star. You have to have a special craziness to pursue those career tracks in the younger years. But in later years, the challenge comes back to be who you were born to be, not somebody else's idea of what you need to become.
Back when the average life expectancy was around 47, this wasn't much of a problem. Today, as the average life span bumps the 80-year level, it is.
So my best resume lines these days are the ones that never get put into the resume, and they are as follows:
"I really don't care what your corporate requirements are. I do care what kinds of books and articles sell these days in the large markets, and the publishers don't care about whether I got Microsoft certified or not. They don't care if the FBI has fine-combed my background. They don't care how old I am, what I do for fun, or if I'll cover the systems 24x7. They also don't care if there are gaps in my work record or if I dress for their idea of success. They just want material that will move, and that's that."
And another little blurb:
"I never really liked you guys. It was all an act forced upon me by your own illusions. I was faking it."
Sure is nice to be over the hill