I’ve made decent progress at shipping back the review hardware that’s been cluttering my desk, but I still need to de-personalize my cubicle. Which is a problem, since I’ve basically treated it as a 2.0 version of my high-school locker.
As the panorama below shows, my cube is my canvas.
On the right, I’ve got an extensive set of trade-show badges, going back to my 1995 attendance at the first E3 video-game trade show. I take particular pride in my credential for the 1996 Internet World show, which took place at the Washington Hilton; for the next four years, the show drew increasingly larger crowds at the Javits Center in New York and then quickly faded, serving as an unplanned illustration of the dot-bomb bust.
To the left of the monitor, you can see the obligatory Dilbert cartoons, followed by an office phone list (with Steve Wozniak’s metal business card thumbtacked to it) and a calendar. Then you can see my collection of obscure CD-ROMs, the most prized among them being a preview copy of the BeOS software that was once going to revolutionize the Mac. You can also spot an 8-in. floppy disk to its left.
I don’t know where I’ll put all this at home. The spouse approval factor for covering a wall with trade-show badges seems rather low.
There’s one other part of my little art exhibit that bears noting. Among those CD, you may spot upside-down business cards from executives at such failed tech firms as eToys.com, PSINet and Lifeminders. Weird, I know. After clearing my traces from that wall, it only seems fair that I leave one of my own business cards there, also pinned upside down. (That’s weirder still, but I assume that whoever gets the desk next will trash that immediately. Besides, what else am I going to do with those things?)