Discovering what it takes to become an internet influencer

There are times in life when one comes to a personal crossroads. It is a time when you must look in the mirror at the person you’ve become vis-à-vis the person you truly want to be. In that single reflective moment, the face staring back at you rarely lies. And though not always an easy choice, the obvious path becomes abundantly clear.

So, after much thought and hours spent talking to myself in the bathroom mirror, I have decided to throw caution to the wind and pursue my lifelong dream job.

I am becoming an “influencer.”

Mind you, I am not exactly sure what an “influencer” actually does for a living or how one gains such a lofty social status, but I hear there is good money in it. It’s a career that is constantly mentioned on television. And, apparently, all you need is a smart phone and an opinion.

Having been in politics and law my entire life, this career path isn’t much of a stretch. I’ve been trying to influence voters and judges my entire adult life. And I am constantly voicing my inner thoughts to my dog. The idea of being an “influencer” seems like a logical next step. My “influencer” resume should write itself.

In my new quest, I went to Indeed to see who had job openings for an ambitious influencer-to-be.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Originally, the previous line was meant to be followed by a pithy one-liner to segue to the next section of this column. However, a search for the term “influencer” on the nation’s top job site returned nearly 12,000 hits. A review of the top listings revealed I had a serious problem. This influencer business is real.

One particular job listing was for an influencer in the cannabis industry. The listing had an awful lot of requirements—possibly too many for a stoner to actually remember. One job requirement was the “ability to lift heavy items up to 50 pounds.” I’m not sure what they are selling, but a 50-pound joint would impress even Snoop Dogg.

Many of the “influencer” job descriptions on Indeed refer to the ideal candidate being a “brand ambassador” that builds loyalty among customers choosing competing brands of a particular product. Now, here was some solid guidance for my career move. All I had to do was declare my never-ending allegiance to a product for which people my age need to be influenced and marketing executives from around the globe would be beating a path to my virtual doorstep.

I contacted the largest producer of compression socks. After thoughtfully and deliberately detailing my inner-most thoughts on controlling the dog-eat-dog, compression sock market via TikTok videos, the company’s legal department sent me a cease-and-desist letter demanding I never again be seen in public wearing their socks.

My market-changing ideas obviously were too large for the small thinkers in the compression sock world.

So, I nominated myself to be a Saks Fifth Avenue “Man of Style and Substance.” They referred me to TJ Maxx.

So, finding myself adrift in the sea of influence as an ambassador without a brand to promote, I went in the opposite direction and am becoming an anti-influencer. The marketing teams at some companies may pay me to not promote their products.

Until I hear back from every golf club manufacturer in the world, I’ll continue to work on making progress on influencing my dog.

Rick Robinson’s latest book, A Fish Ate My Homework: a beginner’s guide to fly fishing, is available on Amazon and at bookstores everywhere.