Last night I had the special and unique treat of attending the annual Association of Letter and Numeral Awards (or, the ALNAs). I try to catch it every year. It seems that a lot of people find it boring, but I’ve always found the letters of the alphabet, and especially numbers, to be quite interesting; perhaps not in their pure forms as such, but in their interaction with each other and in their subtle omnipresence in our everyday lives.

The awards show has never been televised. Ironically, the main networks have been quoted as saying that the show “just wouldn’t draw the right numbers.” I had always imagined that the show would be right at home on PBS, the very station that airs Seseme Street, on which so many numbers and letters have made wonderful guest appearances over the years. No one listens to me though.

No matter, the esoteric nature of the gala only ensures that I can continue to enjoy it in my own way. I can’t say that last night’s presentation was any better or worse than any other year’s, as they all seem to have their high and low points. As usual, they started off the night’s festivities with a musical number. It was the letter I and the letter U singing a duet. It was their version of Eddie Rabbitt and Crystal Gayle’s “Just You and I”. I thought kicking the whole shebang off with two vowels was a very good idea, but not having a consonant in there somewhere made it seem strangely incomplete.

The awards were announced and handed out at a nice pace, with most of the recipients keeping their speeches considerately curt. The exception was the award for Best Performance by a Grouping or Set of Numbers. This year’s winners were the numbers that make up Pi, and they really seemed to drag on forever. The funniest moment of the night came as the numbers 8 and 0 came out to present the award for Best Number. “Wow, 8,” 0 said, “that’s a nice belt!” Incidentally, the award for Best Number went to 1, which was no shock to anybody. However, I think the members of the audience really could have done without the sad display that came next, which was of that numeral jumping up and down for a good fifteen minutes shouting “I’m number 1! I’m number 1!” Sure, it was true in a very literal sense, but it also went a long way towards explaining to all in attendance why 1 is, indeed, the loneliest number.

As usual, after all of the awards were handed out, there was a forum and press junket. For me, this is the real highlight of every year’s program. It’s then that you really get to see the numbers and letters being themselves in a social setting that is far less formal than in the milieu of forming of words and larger numbers. For instance, it’s always interesting to watch the behavior of I, V, X, L, C, D and M toward the numbers. It seems as if the letters have yet to get over losing their jobs to the numbers after the fall of the Roman Empire. They deny that of course, C being the most adamant in that sentiment. But even as the letter that famously “is for cookie” attempted to set the record straight, I couldn’t help but think that M appeared somewhat vexed and X looked rather nonplussed.

The press hounded and prodded the numbers and letters. A few reporters asked genuinely intelligent questions, but most were there merely to dig up gossip and trivialize the proceedings. I can’t believe how little respect they showed, especially considering that their very livelihoods are based completely on the manipulation of the icons they were more or less subtly mocking. For many years there has been one subject that has been very touchy to the ALNA attendees: The growing widespread use of emblems and such that are not recognized as part of the alphanumeric family. “The Internet is both a blessing and a curse to us all”, said T. “The idea that a colon and the right side of a parentheses could suggest a smiley face scares the crap out of me.” A worried rumble of agreement echoed throughout the room. It wasn’t all gloom and doom though. K’s boisterous sense of humor broke through one particularly tense moment when she loudly announced that she and her two twin sisters are in desperate need of a new image consultant. 6 then stood up and jokingly asked “Well, what about me? Every time I get together with 9, people point at us and giggle!” As a result, it was then that Q finally voiced the obligatory bad joke that no ALNA night would be complete without: “Now there’s an irrational number.” Like every year, every letter and number in attendance emitted a simultaneous groan and chuckle, and it was wonderful.

The evening ended not long after, and one by one each symbol vacated the premises for another year. Their night to shine was over, but shine they did. As I type these words into my computer, I look at the keys and think of the tender respect I have for these tiny miracles that my fingers gently hover above and intermittently peck at. There’s A, situated nicely and peacefully next to two less popular letters, Q and Z, all nestled just below the row of numbers that seem to crown them illustriously. The picture it forms is somehow reminiscent of a high school senior class photo, with each character present. But this image seems far more ordered and civilized. Yes, numbers and letters living side by side on my keyboard, oh lord, why don’t we?