Submitted by: twriters
The Wall Street protesters kidnapped me on the way to the office and are forcing me to become a janitor. My name is being changed from Trevor Wellington to Rocco Kaminski and my new overalls and work boots have arrived. I have to donate the Italian shoes and socks I'm wearing to the needy radicals; my three piece suit, shirt and tie will be burned.
My re-education program begins tomorrow. I will renounce my capitalist life and my education and learn to serve the people. The house and the Porsche have been confiscated.
Now for you, Son: I have big news. I agreed that you would join their movement as part of my re-education. Like father, like son. You are guilty too, it seems. I told them you are going to be a banker. They didnít like that.
You'll have to leave Princeton immediately and join the radicals here.
Your name is being legally changed from Chip Wellington to Rising Moon Kaminski. I gave permission.
The BMW I gave you for your birthday is being traded in for a 1974 VW bus.
They demand that you shave your head. At least that will save on haircuts. No more preppie hair for you son. And you're forbidden to shave your beard.
Now for clothes: Bring all your suits, ties, khakis, sports jackets, button-down shirts and every pair of Brooks Brothers tasseled loafers and socks with you. They will be placed on a bonfire. You will be given tie-dyed clothes and you will have to go barefoot.
I know it's a big change: from a preppie business major at Princeton to a bald and barefoot radical. You might want to start now and take off your Brooks Brothers shoes as you read this. You'll have to get used to driving in your bare feet. You can forget about becoming a banker.
Don't call me "Father" anymore. I am Rocco to you.
Well, that's all for now. Gotta take off the Ferragamo shoes. My new life is waiting. And so is yours, Rising Moon.
your father and former CEO,
Long live the Revolution!