I was 24 in 1999, and this Monster.com commercial was a sort of rock anthem for how I was going to avoid all of the drudgery and soulless compromises of the modern workplace.
And yet, instead of playing pingpong in some awesome loft with exposed beams and talking earnestly about subverting the dominant paradigms, I was slowly -- very slowly -- climbing the corporate media ladder from an entry level standing position. Clawin' my way up to middle management, yes sir, coming sir, anything for a raise, sir.
And so, perhaps my timing is off, deciding to chuck it all at 37 and finally become an entrepreneur in a post-bubble, post-lending economy.
But the dream of the nineties is alive in New York's Financial District, where Tarbell Cocktails and Conspiracy, my progressive political salon, is gonna right all the wrongs, like an alternative universe where all the hot girls wear glasses.
Anyway, I wish at 24 I'd been able to call myself an entrepreneur, and then all of my fixed personality traits -- stubbornness, a preference for big ideas over incremental change, a willingness to take risks, and a drive to surround myself with smart, creative people -- would have been assets, as opposed to roadblocks on the way to middle management.