As children, each of us held in our imagination an idea of the job we’d hope to have when we grew up. Some yearned to be an astronaut or a firefighter. John Baird clearly aspired to become the world’s first human-klaxon hybrid, and mission accomplished. As for me—well, I recently discovered that the dream job of my youth had finally come open.
It was posted recently on LinkedIn. The employer? Maple Leaf Foods. The position? Marketing Manager, Bacon.
To be candid, I hadn’t, as a boy, narrowed it down specifically to “Marketing Manager, Bacon.” I would also have accepted “President, Bacon” or “Jedi Knight, Bacon.” I just knew I wanted to work with bacon. (Yes, I was a husky lad.)
On the list of my favourite things in this world, “bacon” ranks in the top three—just above “the smell of bacon” and just below “the rare morning when my kids don’t finish their bacon and I pretend to be ticked at them and get all theatrical as I take away their plates but then I cram the remaining bacon into my mouth all at once on the way to the dishwasher and I feel ashamed but also, mmm, gawwwwwwd that’s good.”
Some people don’t like to take their work home with them. These people are not Marketing Manager, Bacon. I’m as lazy as a teenager with a head cold, but this job would instantly turn me into a workaholic. Sorry honey, I’d love to hear about your day but I’ve got to prep for my big meeting tomorrow. [Clicks open briefcase full of bacon.]
I confess I’ve devoted these past few days to imagining a new life as a high-flying bacon executive. I envision taking my Christmas bonus in slabs. I picture travelling the globe to attend urgent bacon-related summits. Get me on the evening flight to Zurich—I hear the Swiss have some bold new uses for drippings! And, of course, I assume my business cards would arrive hickory smoked.
But could I cut it in the high-stakes bacon world? What exactly is required of Marketing Manager, Bacon?
According to the job posting, the successful applicant will be expected to “manage and optimize the North American Bacon Complex.” At first this sounded to me like a mall of some kind—let’s stop and get a smoothie at Bacon Julius, kids!—but I think the term is actually meant to give off a military-industrial vibe. The Bacon Complex: could it be that Maple Leaf is working with Lockheed Martin to weaponize pigs for use in aerial bombardment? Prepare to endure tasty, tasty death from above!
The successful applicant will apparently also be expected to help “develop long-term Bacon Strategy.” Advantage, Feschuk. Meet my four-point Baconifesto:
1. I would move swiftly to halt the dastardly trend wherein products made from lesser meats are referred to as bacon merely because they have been cut into the shape of bacon strips. THAT DOG WILL NOT HUNT. So long as I am Marketing Manager, Bacon, no child will know the horror of expecting actual bacon only to be presented with that wretched imposter, turkey bacon.
2. As a society we seem to have given up on finding new things to wrap in bacon. Must we leave everything to the Chinese? To get the ball rolling, I proposed wrapping in bacon the following items: wieners, celery, baby hands (decorative purposes only), corn dogs, small gifts and other pieces of bacon. Hors d’oeuvres will never be the same. What’s that I’m serving? It’s my specialty: pig in a pig in an additional pig.
3. Pocket bacon: dry enough to keep in your pants for snacking, but moist enough not to be considered a member of the jerky family. Pull it together, scientists—you can do this.
4. You know how you fry bacon in the morning and then way later that day you catch a whiff of it on your sweater? Soon you can experience that thrill even on the rare days you have cereal instead, thanks to my forthcoming line of men’s and women’s pre-scented baconwear.
The posting also suggests Marketing Manager, Bacon will be expected to “work with cross-functional stakeholders to manage the value chain, ensuring efficiency and cost- effective cost inputs.” I don’t know what any of this means, but so long as it can be done while eating bacon, I’m in.