I interned at a record company for years before I finally got a job working for their jazz label. I had an awesome boss and I was thrilled to finally have a paying job (with benefits!) in the music industry. The label had a huge catalog of famous jazz artists, which I could appreciate but my aunts, uncles, and Grandma really went wild for (because it was…old stuff). The label put out new material every year, though, and whenever there was promotion in the LA area my boss and I helped out (99% of the jazz label was based in NYC). It was really cool to tag along even though I did pretty basic stuff (get food, snacks, coffee, etc).
About six months after I started the job, one of the label’s biggest artists had a new record out. You’ve probably heard of her. She sang a memorable song with her dead dad and won a bazillion Grammys for it. She did some press in New York, then came to her hometown of Los Angeles to do more. I spent a few days getting stuff for her, and by stuff I mean her requested snack foods (chips, candy, certain kinds of beverages). Which she ate none of. But then my boss let me take it all home! Win!
Anyway. She was incredibly beautiful, which intimidated me, but she was also incredibly nice. She was the same age as my mom and gave off a warm maternal vibe. We spent a lot of time sitting in green rooms at different radio and TV stations, and once she found out that this was my first official music industry job she asked me lots of questions about myself. I remember thinking, “I hope all the artists I work with are this nice!” (Some were, some were, as I’d previously experienced…not.)
In one of the green rooms, my boss asked me a question about his schedule. I pulled out my Palm Pilot (what up 2002!) and answered his question. He went off to make a phone call, and the artist said, “Oh, I have a Palm Pilot, do you want some of my programs?” There was apparently some way you could “beam” programs (basically apps) from one Palm Pilot to another. Using magic or something. So the artist sent over a bunch of these things to my Palm Pilot, but before I could look at any of them it was time for an interview.
When I got home that night, I remembered that she’d sent me the program/app thingies, so I grabbed my Palm Pilot to look at them. I discovered she’d sent me some fun games, a few processing programs, and a better calendar. Then I saw an icon that just said KS under it. I clicked on it with my stylus. And shrieked.
Jackie, who was sitting next to me on the couch, leaned over and also shrieked. “WHAT IS THAT?”
It was Kama Sutra! For the Palm Pilot! And despite the fact that the image Jackie and I were staring at was pixelated 2002 technology, it’s still burned into my retinas. But after we got over our initial shock, we looked at every single position because OF COURSE WE DID! Then we showed them all to our neighbors, our other friends, and strangers we’d come across on the street. They were always shocked, but even more so when we told them who had given it to me.
Those positions were…unforgettable.