and Words
That’s great, it starts with an earthquake, birds and snakes, an aeroplane
Lenny Bruce is not afraid
Eye of a hurricane, listen to yourself churn
World serves its own needs, don’t misserve your own needs
Feed it off an aux, speak, grunt, no, strength
The ladder starts to clatter with fear fight, down, height
Wire in a fire, representing seven games
And a government for hire and a combat site
Lyric excerpts from Musixmatch.
Having spent an extra year in college getting a second major, I arrived at Microsoft in July of 1991. Washinton lies clear across the country of my home state of Florida. I landed that first real job after graduating, and in most measurable ways, I became an adult. I paid my own bills, had my own place, and contributed to society in a meaningful way. My job involved learning, understanding, and doing a class of thing that few people do. I took pride in it.
That said, Microsoft during the 1990’s was both an incredible place to learn and thrive and somewhat of a corporate dorm party. Many places brag about flex time, which is little more than basically saying that you don’t have a time clock. Microsoft took it to another level. If you could accomplish all your work between midnight and 8am and never see another human, it was fine. We were siloed, vertical stacks of technical information, and that was fine. Most new employees got their own offices upon arrival or shortly after; this only exacerbated the problem.
Each building was equipped with an endless supply of soft drinks in our kitchens. Each cluster of buildings hosted a cafeteria, so we were able to get food quickly and cheaply without venturing off campus. If you should happen to get hungry after hours, there were bags of Lipton instant soup with noodles in the kitchen cabinets. There was one building that hosted showers, located centrally on campus. This was long before they were installed on each cluster of buildings. Some reasoned that the only thing we were really missing were laundry facilities.
My particular group, the multimedia team, worked on audio and video technology on Windows. If you might imagine what children may be like upon attaining an adult paycheck, this is what it was like for many of us. Shortly after getting an office to myself, I brought in a boombox and got a small futon for my office. I subsequently sold that boombox, but the futon remained a part of my office for literally decades. Yes, I slept on it on occasion.
I wasn’t the only one, of course. My teammate and mentor Curtis kept a truly distinctive office. He furnished his office with a wealth of plants that gave it a tropical feel. Off to the corner of that office sat a black and white set of Space Muffins MIDI drums. While he mostly played them at night, he occasionally played them during the day as he took a mental break from programming. However, the muffled sound of tapping on the MIDI drums didn’t really disturb any of us. Curtis kept a bookshelf stereo in his office that played music astonishingly loudly. He contained playing that music to evenings, though many of us were still there.
Danny’s office was just a few doors from mine. He was a classic video game enthusiast. As such, he purchased a few coin-operated arcade games. I remember a sit-down version of Star Wars and stand-up Tempest, both perpetually set to free play. Meanwhile, people consistently walked into his office to play each game as they each struggled to gain position on the high score table. Danny never seemed to notice people playing games in his office. In addition to the arcade games, he also kept a stand up piano, which he played regularly. No one ever seemed to mind the piano music playing through the halls. I’m not sure how he kept a desk, two arcade games, and a piano in his office, but he somehow did.
I ended up getting a coin-operated arcade game too. A Pac-Man cocktail table version which I keep to this day.
Naturally, we didn’t merely scope this to how we conducted ourselves at the office. My aforementioned teammate Danny had a friend who woke to a very vivid dream. In this dream, he envisioned the End of the World occurring on March 17th. Yes, that aligns with Saint Patrick’s Day (and yet another friend’s birthday), but that was merely happenstance. As that particular day passed and we continued to exist, we dismissed the idea that this dream served as a premonition. Most people will file that away, as little more than a disturbing memory. However, we were not like most people.
Danny reasoned that if we were indeed facing extinction on a particular day, we should simply celebrate with a party. No, I’m not making this up. And as such, Danny started the ironic annual tradition of the End of the World Party. Leading up to that party, Danny played R.E.M.’s “It’s The End Of The World As We Know It” for days… endlessly. I don’t have a particular dislike for this song but instead objected its playing for days as it burned into my mind. I could at least shut my office door and play my own music. Danny was genuinely jazzed about this party and furthermore could sing along to the song… word for word. It seemed misplaced to take away from his joy.
By the time the day of the party arrived, I had little desire to subject myself to this song any longer, so I did not attend. I only heard good things about the party, and its annual repeats. Though probably not as destructive as one might imagine if you were truly facing extinction. I learned an additional tidbit of information from the tales of that party. Pickles glow when you run current through them, and no, not in a green color the way you might expect.
To this day, whenever I hear this song play, I remember the tales of this party, Danny, his friend, and that strange dream that sparked a tradition.