Get Rich Quick Scheme (or, "My One Hit Wonder!")

Every so often, I have these genius type brainstorms that I'm sure would make me a ton of money if I were ever to put in the necessary work to make them happen. Or even to write them down. I don't do either, which is convenient, in that it allows me to be smugly satisfied that I would indeed be wealthy, famous and important if I were to do so, while simultaneously excusing me from said effort.

This morning I found myself dissecting the modern folk song. The local public radio morning show played a song called, "Analog Girl" by Guy Clarke (I think). The song offers a mildly contrarian nostalgic take on the kind of girl who has, if I recall the lyrics right, "a mouse in her pocket and SPAM(r) in a can."

There's a whole genre of songs like this -- the semi-humorous folk song. They take a semi-clever hook of obvious timely nature and, well, describe it. The listener thinks: "Ha ha. That's funny. He's singing about an analog girl who doesn't have a cell phone and whose web site catches the morning dew." But there's nothing really funny there, beyond that he's singing about it. The more you listen, the more you realize that it's just an awkward title and descriptive lyrics to go around it.

Then I realized that the country music industry is pretty much built on songs like this. Songs that make you feel nostalgic without giving you anything real or poetic or funny to grab onto. Then I thought: I could write one of these! I could write a one-hit-wonder novelty song!

Then I thought of one. It's a can't miss hit! I'll even give you the title, you my vast Internet audience. Are you ready? Really? Here it is:

Dancin' to Stairway

It's a nostalgic song about how we children of the 70s and 80s spent high school dances draped over one another, unable to dance a step, swaying, practically melting into one another while Stairway to Heaven seemed to play on and on and you hoped it would never end. Or wondered if it ever would. The tune would be driven by a folk-acoustic guitar but punctuated by slow Jimmy Page-esque electric riffs. The refrain would go something like:

And we clung to each other
Her head on my shoulder
On and on we swayed
Dancin' to Stairway...

This song would sell, I'm telling you. I only ask that if you steal it before I write it, let's keep the lawyers out of it. Just give me credit and pay me gobs and gobs of cash so I can quit my job and write up more of these. I got a million of 'em.

10 Years On

This year is my 10th year at my job. I never thought I'd stick with this job for 10 years. Then again, I should have known better. Per the previous story, I'll tend to keep on keeping on. I don't know much about changing direction.

Anyway, my 10th year coincides with the 10th anniversary of my agency's first client; tonight, they held a celebration, and I got to go. Much irony for me: the last time I changed jobs, it was for this client, the chance to help them launch as a brand new company. I was a fresh-faced 28 year old, ready for bigger and better things, to take my talent to an international stage. My first assignment: coordinate the planning of a launch party for some 3,000 people that would set the stage for employees that they were going to be part of something great.

Now, when I was considering "bigger and better things", that did not in any way involve event planning or employee communication. But there I was watching the CEO deliver the speech I'd written as 3,000 people rose as one in a standing ovation.

Here I was tonight, standing alone and apart among a much smaller crowd of a leaner company set for the long haul, watching a new CEO handle his own speech. Then navigating past the games and the pony rides, trying not to trip over tent stakes and picnic tables for familiar faces, and not finding many. Here I was balancing a paper plate that sagged under the weight of overcooked chicken and pasta salad, wondering what I was doing there, beyond angling for company logo swag.

They've changed. They've passed the torch to a new leader, a new team. They chose their path, made their moves. Ten years ago, the big party was meant to put a happy face on the doubts and fears of employees facing a newly uncertain future. Today, they were relaxed, happy. They know where they stand, where they're going. There's a strength there, a serenity you find, when you're in the place where you're supposed to be.

Me, I met few old clients. We talked. We reminisced about people we thought we'd forgotten. And I left, squinting into the setting sun.