NFTs and Me

The subject is nonfungible tokens — NFTs for those in the cryptocurrency know. Of course, Luddite me is hardly in the crypto-know. Still, I know how to dream big and that’s what this story is really about. So, stick with me and share the dream.

To begin: The New York Times, in a historic first, recently auctioned one of its columns as a way to explain the NFT market.

Calling NFTs “the hottest craze in the cryptocurrency world,” Times reporter Kevin Roose auctioned his column with the intent of publising the winning bidder’s name and photo in a subsequent story. The proceeds of the auction would go to the newspaper’s charitable Neediest Cases Fund. As a bonus, Michael Barbaro, the host of The Times podcast, “The Daily,” would provide a voice message for the winner.

While I read the article three times, I confess I had zero comprehension about what NFTs were and how they worked. However, I did 100% understand the art of self-promotion and publicity. And the thought of getting my name and photo in The New York Times sent me into a tailspin of breathless emotion and plotting.

I asked my husband if I could bid.

“Sure,” he said. Then he looked up from the newspaper and said, “Huh? Bid on what?”

I should have walked away quicker. Rats!

Like a wise man once said, “If you’re explaining, you’re losing.”

I explained.

“Hum,” he said. “Do you even understand what you’re bidding on?”

“Sure,” I lied.

“No, you don’t. Why do you even want to do this?”

“It would be great publicity for my writing,” I said breathlessly.

“True, but …”

“Oh, come on,” I said impatiently. “I’ll use MY money.”

“You have a separate, secret bank account?”

“No, I mean, I just really want to do this,” I replied, my voice reaching a desperate high pitch.

“What’s the starting bid and how much is this worth to you?

“Starting bid — $850 and well, I guess I’d go up to $5,000.”

“Five-thousand dollars, really? his voice also went up in pitch. Then, he paused, calmed down, and added gently, “Sweetheart,

it will sell for thousands of dollars more than that.”

I stomped out of the room in despair.

My husband, of course, was right. The winning bid was $560,000.

I repeat — FIVE HUNDRED SIXTY THOUSAND DOLLARS!!!

For what, you ask, other than your name in The New York Times and someone of note answering your phone?

I’ll do my best to explain it: Having an NFT of this historic first-ever auctioned Times column is like owning a signed first edition copy of Catcher in the Rye, only without being able to take it from your shelf or turn the pages.

But, as I said, for me, it was all about getting my name in my beloved sacred NYT. I cared naught for the historic implications of the NFT-auctioned column or for making the charitable donation! I just want to be in The New York Times!

So, now I’m going to have to wait to die to see my name and photo in the paper — in a paid obituary notice. Of course, that won’t cost the family near as much money as the winning NFT bid. And who knows? In the cruelest irony of all, maybe by then, my family will pay for my obit with NFTs!