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CHAPTER 2

SPAM

I got a call from Matt, a kid from the old neighborhood in Boston. He had just graduated from broadcasting school and wanted to talk about starting a production company.

The timing was perfect for me. I was freshly out of the military, had a ton of real world experience, and looking to start making some real dough. The only problem was money. Both of us were broke and we would need to buy some production equipment. Matt suggested we talk to his dad about a loan, so I flew back home for the meeting. His dad agreed to lend us $5,000 and accept interest only payments for the first year. This was enough to get us a quality camera and a couple of editing decks. We jumped in Matt’s car and made the trip from Boston to Biloxi in less than 26 hours.

Matt was a year younger than me and never had a girlfriend. In our high school years, he was always a third wheel, often whining that he was bored while everybody else was paired up and making out. After high school, he became obsessed with Billy Joel. OK, everybody loves the Piano Man, but when he came down to live with me, he hung a poster of the guy above his bed. Quite strange for a twenty one year old.

I was working the seven to midnight shift at Kicker 108, our small market country music radio station. I hosted a show called “Cryin, Lovin, Laughin, or Leavin”. Tweens and young teens would light up my phones all night, so they could share their problems and express their never dying love for each other. Small market radio didn’t pay much. I took home about a thousand dollars a month.

During the day, I was working on generating leads for our new company. We called it Ace Video Productions. Biloxi is a casino town, so the name was fitting, but the real reason we chose it was to show up first in the Yellow Pages.

My girlfriend was a massage therapist at a chiropractic clinic. She set me up a meeting with Dr. Cleveland and I explained what the company could do for his business. The next day, Ace Video Productions had its first gig producing a video about back rehabilitation.

As the weeks went by, the phone rang more and more. It was not steady work, but these small jobs were paying the bills.

I came home from the radio station one night to find Matt sitting in front of a new computer. I was pretty pissed that he would spend the last of his dad’s loan money towards something so expensive, without first consulting me.

The computer box sitting on the floor was about two feet tall and almost fifty pounds. The weight of the bulky monitor made my flimsy kitchen table top bend. There was a phone line attached to the back, allowing us to dial in to America Online. AOL was the shit. You could read the news and search through the members directory for local girls to stalk.

I went to work that night and gave my email address out to my listeners. I felt so cool, as I was one of the first people in my circle to have an electronic mail account. When I got home, I had three emails waiting for me. The wheels were spinning. There had to be a way to make money from this.

On a trip to Office Depot, I was browsing the software aisle. Actually, it was just a section of an aisle, as there weren’t that many titles to choose from back then. I spotted a package that made these cool looking printouts about the day you were born. You type in the date and it spits out a framable document. It was ten bucks, so I bought it.

AOL had a section where you could place free classified ads. I figured I could take a shot at selling these birthday history thingamajigees.

First week: two sales.

I didn’t have a way to collect payments online, so I had the buyers send me a check for five dollars. I had already made my investment back. All future sales would be pure profit.

Two sales in a week were impressive for such a cheesy product, but it was not enough for me. I decided to get a little aggressive. I went through the AOL member directory and started pasting copies of the ad in emails to the members. Later, this practice would become known as spam, but back then it was cool to get email and people were very responsive.

I sold about fifty, before AOL shut down our account. Apparently, a few people got angry and reported me. I guess some people didn’t think getting email was as cool as I did.

Oh well, at least I still had the production company. Or so I thought.

I came home from work one night to find the house almost empty. Matt had packed up everything and headed home. The camera, the editing deck, the computer, it was all gone.

A week later, I was fired from the radio station and was forced to move. I ended up renting a thirty year old house on wheels in a trashy trailer park.

It was time to start looking for a real job.

Millionaire Within

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