Insights from Nebo

Last week, Nebo celebrated its 12th birthday party. There was cake, champagne, and speeches — the usual celebratory elements.

But this party was special. Not because of the 12 different cakes (although that was amazing). Not because of the live music (I learned what an e-sax was). Not because of the champagne (although that helped). It was special because of the people in the room.

This year, Nebo turns 12.

Twelve is a number in space and time. The world’s greatest religions place significance on it. In Christianity and Judaism, there are 12 Tribes of Israel, 12 Disciples of Jesus, and 12 books of Revelations. There are 12 Stations of Life in Buddhism. Our calendar has 12 months. The list goes on.

And although every number has significance if you really think about it, the questions is: what does 12 mean to us?

In 2011, I tried stand-up comedy for the first time. I heard that everyone bombs the first time on stage, and I was no exception.

It was at a place called The Five Spot in Little Five Points. I wore a bright tank top, a crystal necklace for good chi and copper bracelets that supposedly promoted good circulation. Since losing interest in astrology, my wardrobe choices have changed considerably. I performed at an open mic night with an audience of bitter comedians, angry that NBC didn’t cast them in a sitcom half a year into their careers. It wasn’t an easy crowd.

People rush off to meaningless jobs day after day, you see them coughing in the subways at dawn. They squander their souls on things like rent, decent clothes, gas and electricity, insurance, behaving like peasants who have come out of the fields and are so dreadful tickled because they can buy baubles and doodads in stores.

 -Jack Kerouac, 1948, age 26, author of On The Road

Today is a great day. I woke up to a steady, beating rain outside. I love a rainy Sunday. Uh oh, gotta go to the bathroom.

-Drew Grossman, 2015, age 26, author of Pumpkin Drewskis: Drew’s Take on Pumpkin Brewskis

The sentences above are taken from the journals of two writers. One is a Nebo copywriter and the other is a 26-year-old who, up to this point in his life, hasn’t published much and lives with his parents.

To use the word “writer” to describe us both may be overly generous to my case, but that’s not all we have in common. We also both journal (or journaled). Most good writers journal, from Hemingway to Kerouac to Kafka to David Foster Wallace.

2015 was an incredible year for us here at Nebo. We welcomed Big Drum into the Nebo family, helped launch phase two of the Choose ATL campaign, stood up to factory farms with ASPCA, cheered to #LoveWins, and celebrated the holidays with an incredibly adorable group of shelter animals.

We also ate a lot of birthday cake, played a lot of ping-pong, and debated important matters such as the proper time to drink rosé and pumpkin beer. In between all of this, we managed to capture a lot of our shenanigans and serious musings on the blog.

As we say goodbye to a year that was great to us, we take a few moments to reflect back on our top posts of 2015. Thank you for enjoying the wild ride with us this year. We look forward to what the future holds.

Happy New Year!

My name is Oreo, and I’m a lucky dog. I live in a doggie apartment complex with my best friends and some of the most loving people in the world.

Each day, I get to leave my little home for about 30 minutes. I get to go outside, play with my doggie friends, and stretch my legs! They get stiff from my doggie cage.

I’ve been here several years, but it’s not so bad. I know a lot of nice humans who take care of me. I meet a lot of nice humans, too! They come in and pet me, talk to me, and some even play with my friends and me. Sometimes, they take my friends home with them.

I’m not sad, but I do miss my friends. And I don’t understand why no one ever takes me home.