War Stories

The Webby Awards have morphed into something substantial. I remember one of the first we attended in The City, during the Willie Brown Mayoral fiefdom. The awards were hosted in the posh city hall duomo. Ahh- to remember the dotcom nuttiness and all that conspicuous consumption. Pass the baton to the next techie wave of glitterati and the webbys' now have a real heft of creative genius. Veiled meaning: sucks that when I attended these back in the neophyte days...it was marginally fun. Now it resembles real fun with a creative tour de force to match the cache. BooHoo. But wait, could there be an encore? I have a groovey start-up idea that has legs.. Helps too that my double E yummy hubby can help with the geek aspect.

Nostalgic waxing makes me sound like the war vet bevvyed at the bar talking about the days when blah blah blah...snore. Concept is the same but instead of war stories you get to be regaled with the infancy of the Internet and how fun it was way back when, blah blah blah, snore. Feel free to flee this blog...it's reminiscent of the song from Bruce Springsteen, glory days. I think you get the idea.

The tech bubble was a footnote in the timing netaphor/metaphor..... all about being at the right place at the right time. So as I script a new business plan for a start-up concept that involves text messaging it's like opening a time capsule of creativeness that might be monetized. Gotta like that concept. Just when you think you've gotten to the end of your Karmic rope, it's another emotional roller coaster of timing but how fun to put that seat belt on knowing that uncertainty means fun and fun is good.

Cat like agility helps, but mostly it's timing. I suppose i need to bust a move on my business plan vs. the stream of consciousness blogshere mental masturbation.