You are correct. I am a Founding Member. I didn’t really notice the founding part until you wrote this.
Being young and more in touch, perhaps you can explain this to me. Do I need to get knee breeches, a wig, and buy slaves? Learn to drink port? Will I get my picture on some denomination of Medium currency? Will school children read how I learned my sums without a computer by incandescent light bulbs?
What does it mean? How does it work? What does Medium get for bestowing this honor? What do I get? Is there a medal involved?
And how did I get my place among the elect in the City on the Hill? I am a poet, lowliest of the Medium low. OK, I’ve gotten 1,900 followers in three months and many (not all) of my poems get 50–100 recommends. I guess that’s not terrible for a mere poet. But how did that vault me into the storied company of the listicle, self-help, dating, how-to, and tech writers I see who have over 10,000 followers and seem to get over 500 recommends per article?
Am I a red headed step child? A poor relation? Worse, am I a token? Or has the hand of Medium God just reached down and blessed me? Where is Medium HQ? Should I be praying in that direction? If so, must I buy a special free range, organic, gluten free, bamboo, soy latte, Millennial woven prayer rug? Where do you get one?
All of this is to say, like one of my childhood heroes, I yam what I yam. But unlike him, I don’t know why I yam.
You may think this weird, but yesterday I found this disturbing. Really. Like watching an episode of The Leftovers after smoking some really good weed or discussing Emma Goldman with Donald Trump. Where did Kansa go?
Help a poor ole 20th Century man out, Tamyka. Could this mean (gasp) that I, Mike Essig, have finally become A Special Snowflake?
Thanks,
Mike
PS: Why did I only get half a halo?
