AUG
10
2004
The Where Were We Now File

When I got out of school, I spent about eight months working as a computer programmer. By this time, the Internet bubble had long since burst and working with computers wasn't even remotely cool anymore.

I did my share of riding the Internet wave. I did very well working in Silicon Alley in the summers off from college during the real boom years. Those were the days when Wired Magazine had just published a cover story entitled "The Long Boom" which essentially argued that the new Internet economy could never be slowed by "traditional" market corrections and we would all be RICH FOREVER, mwahahahaha.

I thought these people were fucking nuts. This is why I always, always got paid in cash in those days. My fellow employees were often paid in stock options, which turned out to be worth their weight in lead. They laughed at me, I laughed at them, we all had a good time.

But when I returned to New York after school abroad, then good times were over and I was now competing with a deluge of computer science graduates for less than half the money I was used to making. I took the first job I was offered and worked my first, real nine-to-five computer job. I was miserable (eventually I quit my job and left the country to live off my security deposit–good times). One of the worst things about being a computer programmer was having to introduce yourself at parties as such.

After I came back to the States for a second time, I was talking to an old school friend who writes for a national political magazine. He asked me what I did, and I think I said something about being a computer consultant and how I was trying to write a book. These are the kinds of things people my generation answer when asked what they do. I felt like such hipster trash, and it wasn't helping that this was in Williamsburg. "Next time you see me," I joked, "I'll tell you I'm a filmmaker."

Lo and behold, I went into the family business soon thereafter and now I introduce myself as a filmmaker at parties and such.<small><sup>1</sup></small> Sometimes people act surprised (there's a lot of eyebrow arching, specifically), or pretend to be impressed. But somehow I still feel sort of ashamed. There are just as many pretend filmmakers as pretend artists and writers, I suppose.
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<small>1. Congratulate me, I just got another gig at a cable channel. Oh, and don't forget to watch "Things I Hate About You" on Bravo, Tuesday nights.</small>




 

 
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