• by George Simpson , Featured Contributor, October 24, 2008

The housing market has tanked. The credit market has tanked. The stock market has tanked. Somebody ran over Lehman Brothers with a tank. The only good news is that the cost of filling up your tank is coming down. Meanwhile, we hold our collective breaths and wonder if and when the advertising market will tank. Depending on the day and who you read on the op-ed page of the Wall Street Journal, we are poised to slip into the economic abyss. Or, after a little housekeeping by Treasury and the Fed, life will go on.

But like an outbreak of head lice at an elementary school, "experts" are emerging to offer advice on how to weather the coming storm. And why should Over the Line be any different? Hence:

1) Use this golden opportunity to fire everyone you never liked in the first place. Now instead of that painfully disingenuous "it's just not working out" chat, you can blame it convincingly on the need to reduce costs and not have to worry about ageism, sexism, racism or any other kind of ACLU-isms. Carpe Diem! A moment like this may not come around for another 75 years.

2) Memorize the subway map. It's faster, anyway -- and once in a while you get to look down the loose-fitting blouse of somebody who has GOT to be a model or a soap opera extra (or a tourist from Germany who didn't read the part in NY on FünfDeuchmarks a Day about sitting upright on subway seats).

3) Call restaurants where you can no longer afford to dine and ask them to page you. With any luck, no one will get up to try and come say hello.

4) Don't let it hurt your feelings when it finally dawns on you that your VC is only in it for the money. All those nice things they said about you were because they really thought they might get the money. Now they're not so sure and you can be certain they blame you and your rosy projections, not the downturn. Forget the fresh fruit and Kona Nigari at future board meetings.

5) Become a triathlete. Since nobody is taking your meetings, the swim, bike and run training kills about five hours a day. Healthier than sucking down Jack and cursing media buyers who no longer have budgets, anyway. And you can't be lecturing your kids if you're blazing away while walking the dog at night. Not to mention the subsequent pint of chocolate chip cookie dough.

6) Stay out of the office. If HR can't find you, they can't do the training camp thing: "Coach wants to see you in his office and I'll need your playbook." Turn off your cell phone and occasionally fax in expense reports detailing lunches with Nick Brien, golf with Irwin Gotlieb or going to strip clubs with Matt Seiler. Or was that Nick, still a little fuzzy...

7) Become spiritual. Renounce the material world. Blame your troubles on the conspicuous consumption culture of the Great Satan State. Major potential downside: can't keep the Porsche or the Kindle.

8) Don't be calling the guys in the bidness who already made their fortunes to see if they are "looking for a new opportunity." For all you know, they put the whole thing in hedge funds and it's just as gone as an AOL profitability plan.

9) Read the writing on the Wall. If it ain't got revenue now and you're burning angel and/or venture money like crosses at a Klan rally and the plan calls for an ad-supported exit before 2018, push the down button, walk out the lobby, breath the fresh air and toss your strategic plan under a cross-town bus.

10) Blame the economy. When you go on job interviews, it won't be about the failure of your nth generation optimization algorithms, or flawed ability to project the online ad spend, or failure to convince anybody that "transparency" and "brand safe" were significant differentiators -- or that you kinda just screwed up the execution. It was the economy.