Dear Family

James Rizzi

In-house Expert

TO: [email protected]

EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY: I am writing to formally inform you that I am resigning from my position as an in-house expert. Through the years I have acquired an assortment of speculatory acquisitions. These acquisitions would see me as the family go-to representative for a plethora of questions in a selective number of expertise. However, by no means am I qualified or knowledgeable enough to answer any of the asked-about subjects. Below I have listed the particular expertise that I plan to relinquish with feedback included for the sake of future working conditions, or for new potential employees (most likely my brother).

RESIDENT DIETITIAN:

It has been noted that I have in fact been on a diet, or two, or eighty-five throughout my life. Through my rambles on the subject, along with my ever-visible meal choices, it seems that my family has deemed me as the all-knowing deity for things, nutrition, and exercise. So undeniably poignant to the fact that my father will list out his meal orally as if my memory bank's sole purpose is to retain and store the calories for every food known to man. Considering that that's impossible, I will simply resort to answering with the number two. Divulging a trade secret on the condition that I won't need it anymore. Anytime a problem requires a numerical value in which I haven't the slightest clue how to answer, my rebuttal will always indignantly be, “two”. In addition to being my father's live-in calorie counter, I seem to be his go-to analyst for an overabundance of rhetorical parables. I.E. “James, do you think if someone ate only Twinkies but stayed in a calorie deficit, they’d lose weight?” I'd like to take this platform to explicitly state that I apologize that “probably” was not a fit answer. I apologize that I didn't have a proper dissertation that included the scientific method, which I meticulously went over, the macro and micronutrients of the sugary delicacy. Upon my poor answer, Father would layer the question, hoping to trip me up and engage some very deep dormant knowledge I was desperately hiding. “How much weight do you think he'd lose?” And to the chagrin of my father, “maybe two pounds?”

RESIDENT POLITICAL EXPERT:

I want it noted here that for the length of my career, I have never engaged, enjoyed, or liked politics. As a general rule, I keep away from the subject in a meager attempt to save my sanity. To reiterate, no politics, in any form. Ever. However, for reasons only known to the Almighty, my immediate and extended family thinks I'm a member of Congress. From the moment I enter the door, I am swept away by a wave of the day's headlines. My mother, a liaison of potential missed information, runs through the high-profile stories of the day while I ponder taking notes to prepare for my next press briefing. I.E “James, can you believe what (NAME UNAVAILABLE) said?” Having no idea what this person said or the topic of conversation, I simply replied with, “Well, has he said stuff like this before?” “Yes.” “Well, then it's probably not so unbelievable. This answer was followed up with an immediate disownment and prompt eviction from the premises until further notice.

To reiterate my point, I'd like to redirect you to a manuscript of a conversation I had with a family member. To give context, this was during a prominent election, a family member called to campaign for their pick with so much fire and passion that it seemed I was the deciding vote. The conversation goes as follows, with commentary:

FM: “Can you believe all the great things (NAME UNAVAILABLE) is going to do?”

(At this point in my employment, I had decided to maybe lean into the assumptions and do some research.)

Me: “Well, I heard that's not entirely true, I read somewhere that there won't be enough money for the project.”

FM: “Oh yeah, where do you get your information from?”

Me: “The internet.”

FM: “And you believe everything on the internet?”

Me: “No, but where do you get your information then?

FM: “On my phone.”

…

RESIDENT IT GUY:

Despite my youthful age and growing up in a mostly digital era, I do not in fact, have a strong comprehension of technology and all its encompassing applications. However, fixing the router once would make my family think otherwise. In a particular instance, my father asked me if I could “send away for” a product of interest after seeing it for sale online. While considering that the term “send away” was prominently used during the time of the Pony Express, we were already off to a great start. Thus ensued the hour-and-a-half-long conversation regarding the illegitimate website and his misunderstanding of how they would scam him. As if the product name, “Wow, Super Awesome Action House Model,” wasn't a dead giveaway. The confusion would continue indefinitely when I would receive multiple tickets regarding my employer's social media. I.E. “James, is there a way I can remove all these people from the background of this photo?” “Quite frankly, Dad, I'm not sure how you got that photo there to begin with. Also, whose motorcycle is that?”

After receiving more inquiries on the subject matter, my recommendation to them was to delete and remove any social media and never use the internet again. After that idea was immediately rejected, my expertise came to an end.

It's been a pleasure working for and with you, but for the reasons stated above, I can no longer live under the pretense that I am an expert in anything, even despite your thinking otherwise. I, however, will show up for dinner and continue to receive unconditional benefits. I thank you and love you all, see you Monday.

Sincerely,

James Rizzi