Happy Birthday, 90&9!
Ninetyandnine.com is celebrating its fifth birthday/anniversary today, and if you'll head over there (after you're done here, of course) you'll find that the staff has published their thoughts about where they've been and where they're heading. They've also re-published their very first edition, and after browsing through those not-so-ancient articles it occurred to me that they are just as relevant today as they were five years ago. That's one thing many authors of 90&9 articles have in common with classical writers -- that the subject matter transcends time and place to have an impact on anyone, anywhere. And you thought 90&9 was just a simple webzine!
In the same vein, I thought I'd reminisce a little about my experience with 90&9. Over a year ago, I was googling something (I don't remember what) when I came across this article. I was impressed -- a well-written article by an Apostolic? Surely I was witnessing a miracle! I just had to check out where it came from. Being the highly intelligent person that I am, I knew just a few moments later that I had stumbled across something really, really great. After exploring a little while, I found this article and was so touched that I immediately clicked the feedback link and pounded out my life's story. A second after submitting it, I felt really embarrassed. What was I thinking, writing such a dumb letter for millions to read?
From that day on, I became a faithful reader, but I never learned that first lesson very well; throughout the rest of the year I would often punish my keyboard writing a letter in a moment of passion, only to submit it and suffer self-induced humiliation when it was published. This was a cycle that repeated itself until I became immune to the red-faced syndrome and began to wonder what it would be like to have my thoughts published on a regular basis.
Shortly after Southampton began spitting out bytes of his wit and wisdom, I would often think, "Wouldn't it be cool to do that?" and -- believe it or not -- I'd compose fake blog entries in my head while driving around town. (You may take that to mean I didn't have a life, but looking back, I wonder if there's any chance I was a prophetess and didn't know it!) When 90&9 sent me an e-mail announcing their search for a female blogger, I stayed up past mid-night composing my contest entry, quivering with destiny, purpose and too much air conditioning.
Then the contest began, and I was the dumbest contestant of all. All the other girls were so cool, so smart, so polished that I just knew I didn't have Hitler's chance in heaven. I was so crushed. At the end of the contest, even when my mom casually dropped into conversation that "some guy named Curry" called, I figured it was just a courtesy call to say, "Thanks, but no thanks." Yet, for a minute there, I allowed myself to fantasize I had won and began bouncing on the couch, much to the amusement of my friend Dimples (so named because he has 'em, and I am a sucker for them). "Do you know what this could mean?" I asked him. "It means that thousands of people would be reading my thoughts on a daily basis!"
Dimple's eyes widened, and he said one word: "Uh-oh."
After a round or two of phone tag, I was finally talking to Kent Curry the Great. I was so nervous that I wrote all over the sleeve of my favorite t-shirt without realizing it. He was quick to announce the happy news, and the rest, for better or worse but probably worse, is history . . .
Questions, comments, concerns?
E-mail them to wscoggins@ninetyandnine.com.
I reserve the right to quote you unless you ask otherwise.
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