Brad responded to me the same day promising that he would do a few preliminary things that would determine the next steps to get Trooper up and running in the digital world. Three and a half weeks passed. I emailed him today. The email bounced back. Since it was a ‘reply’ to his email, I knew the address was correct. I called Universal and found out that his mailbox was full. I asked the receptionist to alert him to this fact and gave her my email address so that he could let me know when he was once again operational. A few minutes later I got an email from the receptionist informing me that Brad’s “last day” was September 29th.
So for the last two weeks, I’ve been waiting for a response from nobody. Maybe worse, it turns out that Brad promised to get back to me knowing that he only had ten more days with the company. Maybe worse yet, The President of the company directed me, and my questions, to Brad knowing that he was already cleaning out his desk.
I did actually laugh.
This is good, really. I recall trying to explain to my partner the lunacy I was experiencing while dealing with this company ten years ago. Often I wondered if he believed me. Staying with this in real time will be good for me as well. By documenting it, I can be sure, later, that it really happened.
So I have written back to the President:
I’ve just learned that _________ left Universal Music Canada ten days after his promising email to me. That would account for why I’ve heard nothing from him for over three weeks.
I’d like to see Trooper tracks available for legal download. Who do I talk to about this?
The President wrote right back saying that Brad had promised he’d do this. His email then asked another person in the company (who was cc’d) to contact Brad at his new job and find out “where this is at”. The email ends with the assertion that they’ll get this done for me.