Doing some work with The Twentysomething Guide to Creative Self-Employment, a fine book which I wrote waaaaaay back in 1996. Just came across the following passage which shows that I was a few years ahead of my time.

But really, I’m sharing this because 1996 just seems so damned obsolete:

Let’s take a hypothetical example involving the worst possible activity, and try to turn it into a business. Our friend Joe has spent the last six months watching television. His apartment is unfurnished, with the exception of a twenty-seven-inch television set, a four-head VCR, and an eight-year-old futon that has seen better days. His job search went nowhere, partially because he spent too much time slacking off and partially because he didn’t hear about anything good.

Joe is reading the newspaper one day and comes across a blurb in the Style section about people hating their VCRs. One person interviewed says, “I’ve never been able to figure the thing out. I have it turned around to face the wall so I don’t have to stare at that blinking 12:00 all the time.” Someone else mentioned, “I can tape shows until the cows come home, but I never have time to watch them anyway, so what’s the point?” A third goes on, “Between cable and satellite and all of those high-tech features, I’m ready to just junk everything except my five-inch black-and-white set.”

Joe’s been thinking about trying to get some money to supplement the Kraft macaroni-and-cheese diet he’s been on, and his wheels start turning. If Joe’s not particularly bright, at this point he might think, “Hey, I can start a service where I set people’s VCR clocks for them, so they don’t flash 12:00!” Thanks to daylight saving time, Joe might get repeat business twice a year, but it’s questionable whether people would be willing to pay for this.

If Joe is a little bit smarter, he might think, “I can tape shows for people who can’t program their VCRs, so they don’t worry about missing their shows. I can even chop out the commercials for them, so they don’t have to fast-forward all the time.” Now Joe may or may not be on to something—it depends on how many people would be interested in this kind of service.

But if Joe’s neurons are really in a frenzy, he’d say, “I live in Washington, D.C. (or New York, or Los Angeles), where people are totally news-fixated. I can tape all of the newsshows, prepare a list of what stories were aired, fax it to a list of clients, and give them tapes upon request of only what they want to see, saving them time and keeping them informed!”

Or he might take another tack and say, “I’ll hire myself out to wealthy people who want to buy great home-entertainment systems but don’t know what to get. I’ll be the informed third party, more trusted than a salesman, who picks out the best package for the client and sets it all up for them.”

Unfortunately, Joe’s a typical untrepreneur, so he sits on his butt and eventually forgets about his ideas halfway through his third bag of microwave popcorn.