225BatonRouge.com

Has it really been a year already?

Twelve months ago we launched 225 in true Louisiana style: first, we decided to make it free. And second, before we’d even decided on the first article or feature, we’d pretty well planned the entire launch party.

Venue? Booked. Caterer? Lined up and ready. Cocktails? Taken care of. Music? Done. An editor? Hey wait, we need an editor, right?

Yeah, those naïve, early days were marked by simple, honest questions. Like, what the hell does 225 mean? But it didn’t take readers too long to get that it’s simply the area code.

But how you’ve slaughtered its pronunciation.

“I have a bone to pick about that article in two twenty-five,” someone will say.

Or, “Where can I get a copy of two hundred and twenty five?” a newcomer asks.

Why did we name it 225? Through market research and focus group work, we learned that, of the list of proposed names we came up with, you disliked this one the least. Actually, it was your favorite—once you understood what it meant, of course.

Then, with each passing monthly issue, our cover story further defined this magazine in our readers’ minds. We debuted by posing the question, “Is Baton Rouge becoming—dare we say it—cosmopolitan?” More than a few of you asked, “What does cosmopolitan mean?” I guess the answer was no, then.

Next, we told you about “50 People to Watch in 2006,” which, upon further reflection, was like giving you homework. Who wants to keep track of that many names? A botanist, maybe. Next year we’ll pare the number down a bit.

Then we uncovered some ugliness at FEMA’s trailer park in Baker. We found out evacuees there—big surprise—hated it. We revealed that at night, a small number of thugs were terrorizing the majority of residents, and the federal agency made it hard for cops (and reporters) to find out what was going on.

“Soooo,” you said. “You guys are serious.”

Well, usually. Meet The Cayenne Report.

I must confess: I utterly underestimated just how much we would freak you out with our satirical foolishness. It’s plainly labeled “satire.” But still, you call.

We write: The Irish are dispensing with the requisite St. Patrick’s Day parade and are simply going to drink. You call (ticked off, I might add) and scold us for trying to ruin the most popular parade in town.

We write: The Shaw Group’s Jim Bernhard just bought the city of New Orleans at an auction. You ask, “I remember that story, how much did he pay?”

And my personal favorite, we write: I-10 and I-12, after being split for more than 20 years, are now divorcing. You ask, “But how will I get to Baton Rouge from Livingston?”

So thanks for reading us. And remember this simple lesson: Plan the party first, and everything else will fall into place.