Saturday, May 31, 2008

Going Postal, IT Executives, and the Home Offices

[Note, 12/8/2008: due to popular demand, all internet treadmill walk-station/work-station/desk-station posts have been moved the the following blog, ]

Hello, my name is Crockett Dunn. I own a company called Crockett Dunn, LLC.

CDLLC was born around the time my business partner at Gold Zeppelin, Eric David, was had the good fortune of landing a sweet gig at MySpace. So we each took our respective accounts, and I gave birth to (actually a more apt metaphor would be to say that I'm still pregnant with, but the contractions are getting closer together and I'm about to go in for a scheduled induction). [my wife is an OBGYN].

Since late 1994, I've owned one internet business or another for14 years now, with some side ventures along the way.

Oh yes.... there is one very important point that you, the reader understand, to fully appreciate this post:

Hi. My name is Crockett, and I am a workaholic. ("hi crockett")

Yesterday around lunch time (which I never take off), the doorbell rang as I was actually checking my blood pressure to ensure I survive my current business growth spurt.

I shout, "I'll be right there." While noting the slightly high BP reading, I quickly triage and delegate 3 tasks that landed on my windows mobile phone, and run downstairs.

On the way downstairs, the red-phone rings so I tell the guys at the network operations center to take specific decisive action. Apparently another call had been rolled over to my reception while the red-phone rang, so I received another blip on my windows mobile device. "not urgent... HOORAY!"

Between the stairs and the door, the office direct line rings (in my pocket), and one of my support guys tells me a client that is currently beating the hell out of him verbally, without allowing him to help. The issue the client needed education on was the concept of the INSERT key, and how this is completely a function of a client computer and does not in any way relate to a change made to their web-based applications or hosted software service.

3/4 to the door, the mobile phone gets an SMS indicating some suspicious activity having been blocked by the firewall- I quickly forward this to the NOC, too.

I open the door, in my flip flops and non-client-site clothes, and the mailman, in a very cheerful, relaxed, mellow-California voices says, "Soooo.... You're not working today??"

Naturally, I immediately punched him in the face knocking him instantly earth-parallel-unconscious, removed the delivery from his limp hands, signed the appropriate documentation, and inserted it into his breast pocket, closed and locked the door, and returned to work, on the treadmill workstation.

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