Diary Of A Layoff/Post Six: Cleaning Out & Moving On

Chuckle doesn't live here anymore... With three days before my exit from Billboard, I'm down to carrying home the last stack of CDs. At this point, my work area looks as if I never existed (above, today/below: December 12, 2008). The only things remaining in any drawers are a stapler, tape dispenser and a handful of Advil (I was noble enough not to scarf the office supplies, and the Advil... well, Wednesday isn't here yet).Today, I went through the first Rolodex I ever had at Billboard, which must date back to the mid-1990s. R-o-l-o-d-e-x... you remember, those quaint little plastic boxes that held paper cards with sources and phone numbers. To my surprise, I found that a majority of the publicists and record label executives that I worked with then are still in the business—however, 90% of them now work at different PR and music companies. It certainly offered evidence that this business has always been flush with change and evolution—and that the good ones return to the industry, albeit often leaving major labels for smaller entities or their own upstarts.

Another amusing factor: There was not one single cell phone number cause, uh, they didn't yet exist. Few included e-mail addresses, for that matter, if they came from as early as 1995 or 1996. I even had a couple with beeper and pager numbers and natch, everyone had a fax number to accompany their office number.

It's astonishing to consider how much the business world has changed over the past decade. What am I supposed to even do with a Rolodex other than wait for the Smithsonian to call? Everything is now listed in an e-mail database. Cell numbers are recorded on my mobile. For that matter, talking to a lot of these folks has been supplanted by a steady exchange of e-mails—even down to now conducting interviews via e-mail.

I can only imagine what 2015 is going to look like. Desktop computers will be an office relic—if, in fact, there are such a thing as personal spaces within an office. Laptops and cells, bullpens and work-from-home... is that even too quaint of a prediction for the next decade?

In 1995, I was still carrying a portable CD player on the subway, changing those blasted AA batteries every week. Then I moved to my own mini discs mixes—rechargable! Next it was homemade CDs—but not yet burned on a computer. That barely existed at the turn of the millennium. At last came the birth of the iPod—black and white screen, mind you. And how many of them have I upgraded to (or left in cabs, dammit)... the Mini, the Shuffle, the Nano, reaching iTouch status sometime last spring.

Mercy, is it old in here, or it that just me?

The fat lady hasn't sung her last chorus of "My Heart Will Go On" yet. This weekend, I have a 2,000-word feature to write and one more production cycle for R&R. In fact, I envision editing copy like a fool—word well-chosen—until 5 p.m. Wednesday. And then... enjoy the silence. I'm ready. Real ready.