Maybe these guys are on to something. My first job interview with a big corporate high tech outfit (1971) went like this. I was 24, right out of college, with ragged-ass long hair and a beard; but I was in shape, and looked terrific.

When I arrived in Oak Ridge for my audition with the Man I did not own a suit or a necktie. I had a corduroy sport jacket with leather patches on the elbows that I thought looked casually professional, and I wore my best button-down shirt and a clean pair of khaki pants which could pass for sports wear. A brand new set of Sears leather ankle-high work boots completed the ensemble. My normal footgear, my old beat-up Navy brogans, would never have passed inspection.

I told them my luggage had been mislaid at the airport, a lie that will be believed every time, but that I always carried an overnighter with a change of clothes. A shave and haircut completed the deception. I wasn't about to spend any cash on a new wardrobe until I knew I had the job, but I knew the hair would grow back.

My story was dutifully repeated by each of my interviewers each time I was passed to the next, all the way to the top of the bureaucracy. I doubt it fooled the company president and founder, a man with twin Ph.Ds, in Physics and Divinity, an unlikely combination from my point of view but an impressive gent nonetheless. These guys were heavyweights, I decided then and there I had better keep my mouth shut and learn.

Of course, in those days, I had no online reputation or internet footprint. All they had on me was my transcripts, my DD-214, and the fact I had no police record.