Three Degrees of Separation From REALLY Rich (and Powerful) Guys

Compelling dream -- Anne Marie had somehow been made the Editor at women.com. I was still writing my column. I had been bitching and pointing out everything that was wrong about the company to everyone I could collar including Anne Marie who listened, nodded and commented, "You're right, of course. But you've known this for a very long time and you've never tried to do anything about it. And that's why you'll never be Editor." She wasn't being judgemental or anything. Just pointing out my fatal character flaw...

Disclaimer here: what you are about to read is fictional, resemblences to anyone who's ever breathed oxygen on this planet is purely coincidental...

So last night the phone rings twice and I stop Ben from answering it. "Uh, uh, uh! You know who that is." Close -- it's voicemail from Ed: "Jerry Glazer has some sort of meeting planned with Generic Big Radio Company on Monday and Maria wants you pull something together for it. Call me."

I called him.

"She has got to be kidding," I said. "She's laying me off and she wants me to work all weekend and pull together a presentation -- on what? What's the value proposition here? What exactly are we supposed to be able to do for Generic Big Radio Company?"

"I know, I know," said Ed. "Don't shoot the messenger."

"How did the Generic Big Photo Company meeting go?"

"Not well. It's the old story: very interesting idea, we don't have the resources to pursue it at this time, don't call us -- we'll call you."

I digested this info in silence. A few days earlier Ed had told me, "Jerry Glazier told Maria that if she doesn't sign one of these three deals -- " Generic Big Photo Company, Splashy But Questionable Infrastructure Company, Doughty But Ambitious Post-Production house -- "he's pulling the plug."

Hollywood doesn't call him The Glacier for nothing.

August is a three paycheck month. I've whittled the monthly nut down to about 4 K and I am counting on those three paychecks to float The Harbor Master through December. I don't want to lose those paychecks.

"Generic Big Radio Company's stock sank big time yesterday," I said. "You know the company had been making money hand over fist consistently for the last five years but this year has been a disaster. Analysts have pegged the company for not having a clearly articulated Internet radio strategy. So they hired this guy, Kevin Something-or-Other. Mister Something-or-Other is one smart fellow and I doubt very much that I'm going to identify something in a two-bit analysis that's going to make him say, 'Aha! I've seen the light!' Their stock sank yesterday because of a ruling that Internet radio stations have to pay royalties for the songs they play."

I was showing off.

Ed remained silent, presumably unimpressed.

"Okay," I said. "I'll do it. But I'm not going to spend a whole lot of time on it. And you're going to have to get me the name of the guy Glazier's meeting with and also what we're supposed to be able to do for him because frankly, I don't have a clue."

Ed was in his own bittersweet reverie. "You know this company could have had a chance if Maria hadn't spent so much time doing the Appease-Jerry-Glazier dance. If we'd just spent six months pulling together a business plan."

"Business plans are good," I agreed. "Connecting the dots -- always a useful exercise."

"The time to pull in Jerry Glazier is handshake time, after the deal is closed. Instead she drags him to this meeting -- $15,000 for the private jet to make the trip -- just so she can be totally humiliated in front of him. I keep telling her -- forget Jerry Glazier. Just take the money and focus. But, no, she needs him to approve of her -- "

"Daddy's Girl!" I said. "Elsie Dinsmore as a Harvard Business Review test case. She should have just fucked him and gotten it out of her system."

Three things I'll miss about CAU (Celebrities Are Us):

(1) Watching Kimberly, Executive Assistant # 1 to Jerry Glazier, casually doing her printing and stapling and collating while listening to the corporate wiretaps through which every feverishly pitched deal is piped into the Big Man's office.

(2)Smoking with Ed on the balcony outside the mail room, totaling up the cost of the cars as they sail into the garage. Will the total cost break $1.5 million -- our all-time record! -- this smoking break? Stay tuned.

(3) The Big Bucks...