Long, Rambling Post About AOL

This weekend I tossed out a lot of AOL related crap.

Things I kept:

* coffee mug with my screen name (RebLiv) -- when hot liquid is poured, the computer screen displays AOL 2.0
* desk tag
* crystal AOL triangle
* AOL Varsity-style jacket (size XL, I was gonna order a medium, but a co-worker suggested I get it "big" -- in hindsight, that was a favor, if it had fit, I might have worn it)

Things I still had and tossed:

* teabags I kept in my desk (I left in December 1997, you do the math)
* a prosperity rune necklace (hope I didn't jinx myself)
* AOL disks (I fear my grandchildren will still be finding them when they clean my house after I die)

The thing about working for AOL in the mid-90's, or at least how I recall those days, is that the "now you have it, now you don't" experience harmed certain people. Some worse than others and yeah, you can say what a bunch of jackasses they were with their money and their expectations (and yeah, I can add tales of acquaintances and friends to that fodder). One of the reasons was that most of these folks were young, clueless about the stock market, economy, business, etc. Cycles, bubbles, I don't recall ever hearing any of those words when I was at AOL. It's not like there were many people there over 50 to make the connection to their parent's time during the depression, or people over 40, or many over 35. Not that we would have listened to any of those old people anyhow.

I was 21, fresh out of college got a job making $11 dollars/hour (which seemed like good money coming from Pittsburgh, although it didn't go far in Northern Virginia). They mentioned something about 200 stock options that made absolutely no sense and I tuned out that part of the HR presentation, as I did when they talked about a 401-what? and health insurance and all the rest of that stuff. All I cared about was that Chris and my combined salaries were over 26k so we could get the apartment we wanted. If they would have said: "you can trade those options for an extra 50 cents an hour," I would have leaped for those pennies.

By 1995 and 1996, I came to learn a lot about stock options -- but what I want to write about isn't the money and debauchery and mismanagement. Everyone's heard those stories and it's difficult to garner much sympathy, youth and folly aside. I was close to a number of Internet millionaires and don't have much sympathy. I'm not one of them. I was close. Really, really close, like six months close. But I chose to leave at the end of 1997 and start an MFA program in 1998. I left with money, a lot for a 25 year old and there's still some to start No Tell Books and go towards college for Gideon. If I stayed six months longer I would have cleared somewhere in the park of 2 to 6 million dollars. I don't know exactly, I couldn't bear doing the math to figure out exactly how much. What started out as bitterness has long changed to gratefulness -- thank god I didn't get all that money. There's no reason to believe I wouldn't have gone bat shit like the rest.

I don't claim that at the time I knew anything about an Internet bubble. But let me tell you what my smarty-pants, immature, mouthy, cranky, I-scoff-at-your-MBA, mid-20 something self did know and was always bitching about (which earned my reputation as a negative nelly):

If you're going to charge people $19.95, you have to actually offer them something, an added value to what they can already get for free. They didn't need us to link to what was on the web -- most people can use a free search engine just fine.

If you're going to write copy that promises something wonderful behind behind that button, it has to be there -- else it's a trick and people only fall for that a of couple times.

When I started there, it was all about the art -- trying to come up with new and interesting technologies, offering unique services, partnering with providers who offered compelling and/or useful content. As far as online content went, there were some pretty wonderful flops and mishaps. I spents months working on a student handbook for the 1996 election, what a labor of love, what a comprehensive resource! What a disaster! I thought kids across the country would be writing papers on presidents and the electoral college. Oh well, it was really well organized. It probably could have landed me a job at PBS.

The Cool Team (yes, there was a group officially named "The Cool Team") put together an area celebrating the Pope's visit to America -- and it had (gulp) sound, church bells! It was beautiful.

There was a weekly online comic strip that took 45 minutes to download over a 14.4 modem. That wasn't particularly popular either. Go figure.

It was a horrible business model. We weren't making any money and couldn't go on like that much longer.

So they recruited business folks to fix us. There was the Federal Express executive who only lasted a couple months after he suggested an employee dress code (fuck dat!). He also said something about us being in serious financial trouble, but who could get past the idea of not being able to wear shorts to work? Off with the geezer's head. Then there was the guy that created MTV and saved Century21. He had a socialite ex-wife who was in some mountain climbing scandal where climbing instructors died lugging her expresso maker down Everest. She forgot to thank them when they dragged her ass to safety or something like that. I forget the details -- there's a book about it. Anyhow, that guy was all about slick advertising and these New York types descended upon us with their sneers. Those folks sure knew how to shine a turd. I worked in a field of sparkling turds. It stunk.

That's when I became not so pleasant to work with. I was the queen of "that's dumb, why would you want to do that?" I didn't have the maturity and wisdom to sit in those meetings and act like somebody just sprayed Channel 5. See, since this was my first "real" job those first couple of years developed my expectation that my job was supposed to be fun and fulfilling and creative. I took it all way too seriously, when I should have realized it was just a job and in comparison to most jobs, it was pretty damn good.

That's when I started crying every evening on my way home (as opposed to crying on my way to work when I first started).

Looking back, I truly enjoyed my experience during 1995 and 1996 (my two non-crying years), before people got crazy rich, before we had to grow up and consider the bottom line and profit. Not because it's fun to be irresponsible (well, sometimes it is), but the early focus was on something I could get behind and work. It wasn't poetry, but I was creating things and it felt good. Feeling good doesn't attract the investors.

But that doesn't mean I don't want to feel good about what I create. It just means I don't want to have to answer to investors or boards or those with interests that conflict with my own -- not when it comes to my "art" -- whatever that may be.

Thank god there's no money to be had in poetry.

I think I read earlier this week that AOL is considering offering its service for free. They should have listened to the grumpy girl mumbling in her cubicle, she might have been wearing overalls (oh the shame) -- but she was an online content programmer for the people!