05-07-2013, 03:57 PM
AOL Music is kaput. What was AOL Music, you ask?
In 1999 I had a low-paying government job in NJ and I was looking for something more exciting and lucrative. My cousin called me to say that a client of his was hiring and since I used to be a music writer, I may be a good fit writing an e-mail to customers telling them about new music.
Within 48 hours I was on a plane to SFO.
After some social time with my cousins, I arrived at a converted warehouse in San Francisco's Mission district, a gentrifying section of a city intoxicated with the 20th century's final tech bubble.
I walked into the warehouse and the floor that housed Spinner Music was probably was 20,000 square feet. Spinner probably occupied a dozen cubicles and a glass-walled conference room.
Since this was a job interview, I wore my best suit, as that's what I was taught. I was greeted by a tattooed & pierced Spinner underling, who remarked that I really didn't need to show up in a grey flannel suit.
The Underling explained that Spinner offers a standalone music player that plays songs based on a person's musical preference. It reminds me of what Pandora or Spotify are today. I would be writing the weekly music newsletter that would be distributed to Spinner members via e-mail. I was excited to be doing a job that I've enjoyed back home, although I'd be reaching a wider audience.
My interview was in the Spring, and the Underling said that the company was anticipating going public in the Fall. I only read in newspapers about how the tech bubble was turning twentysomething slackers into overnight millionaires and imagined the possibilities of climbing out of my low-wage career working for The Man. The Underling informed me that the president would love to meet me, but he was in a "very intense meeting" right now and may be unable to say hello.
The company president was a young guy who appeared to be in his mid-20s (a few years younger than me). He was in the glass-walled conference room meeting with a group of fortysomethings wearing suits. After 40 minutes, he emerged from the conference room, shook my hand and introduced himself to me. He looked harried and said that he was in the midst of some very important negotiations and didn't have the time to meet with me. He thanked me for flying out on such short notice and said that he looked forward to working with me.
That evening I dined at my cousin's house overlooking the Pacific Ocean. I was excited to join the World of Tech but petrified of affording to live in an area where starter homes located next to the freeway sell for $500,000.
The next night I was on the red-eye back to JFK. I caught the subway back to Manhattan and the PATH train back to NJ. I was at my desk at my job by 9 a.m.
I opened the newspaper and read the business section headline that Spinner had been bought out by AOL. I called the president and he informed me that the company had a hiring freeze at the time and wouldn't be needing me.
I returned to my dull position as a civil servant. This was my only foray into the whirlwind of the tech bubble.
In 1999 I had a low-paying government job in NJ and I was looking for something more exciting and lucrative. My cousin called me to say that a client of his was hiring and since I used to be a music writer, I may be a good fit writing an e-mail to customers telling them about new music.
Within 48 hours I was on a plane to SFO.
After some social time with my cousins, I arrived at a converted warehouse in San Francisco's Mission district, a gentrifying section of a city intoxicated with the 20th century's final tech bubble.
I walked into the warehouse and the floor that housed Spinner Music was probably was 20,000 square feet. Spinner probably occupied a dozen cubicles and a glass-walled conference room.
Since this was a job interview, I wore my best suit, as that's what I was taught. I was greeted by a tattooed & pierced Spinner underling, who remarked that I really didn't need to show up in a grey flannel suit.
The Underling explained that Spinner offers a standalone music player that plays songs based on a person's musical preference. It reminds me of what Pandora or Spotify are today. I would be writing the weekly music newsletter that would be distributed to Spinner members via e-mail. I was excited to be doing a job that I've enjoyed back home, although I'd be reaching a wider audience.
My interview was in the Spring, and the Underling said that the company was anticipating going public in the Fall. I only read in newspapers about how the tech bubble was turning twentysomething slackers into overnight millionaires and imagined the possibilities of climbing out of my low-wage career working for The Man. The Underling informed me that the president would love to meet me, but he was in a "very intense meeting" right now and may be unable to say hello.
The company president was a young guy who appeared to be in his mid-20s (a few years younger than me). He was in the glass-walled conference room meeting with a group of fortysomethings wearing suits. After 40 minutes, he emerged from the conference room, shook my hand and introduced himself to me. He looked harried and said that he was in the midst of some very important negotiations and didn't have the time to meet with me. He thanked me for flying out on such short notice and said that he looked forward to working with me.
That evening I dined at my cousin's house overlooking the Pacific Ocean. I was excited to join the World of Tech but petrified of affording to live in an area where starter homes located next to the freeway sell for $500,000.
The next night I was on the red-eye back to JFK. I caught the subway back to Manhattan and the PATH train back to NJ. I was at my desk at my job by 9 a.m.
I opened the newspaper and read the business section headline that Spinner had been bought out by AOL. I called the president and he informed me that the company had a hiring freeze at the time and wouldn't be needing me.
I returned to my dull position as a civil servant. This was my only foray into the whirlwind of the tech bubble.
