Down the hall, Throw's presentation is 15 minutes late in getting started. Moody finally realizes why he can't connect to the Internet. "It was unplugged," he explains. A single cable had become disconnected. Contact is reestablished with Seattle, and Moody begins the demo. Finally.
This is the moment his team has spent almost a year waiting for. Freed from the constraints of a podium, Moody bounces back and forth in front of the screen like a pinball, stopping once to pirouette in a complete circle when seized by the perfect thought. His software is a kit for building online communities, so he links to one designed to look like his own office. Then he shoots the breeze electronically with an engineer who has signed on from Seattle. "And there's our company cat," he points out. His words tumble out faster than he can form complete thoughts. A few sentences are abandoned halfway through, ending with "blah, blah, blah."
It is a bravura performance, filled with the messy passion of a creator who wants his audience to experience the joy that drives his vision. As Moody finishes the demo and blushes at the audience's applause, he remembers to do what he has virtually forgotten to do throughout his presentation. Breathe.
Throw's pitching arm has regained its strength.
"I was up until way past midnight," he says. Along with his exhaustion, Shott displays a telltale morning-after satisfied look. The nature of his nocturnal triumph? He's inked a deal for his company's first outside funding. After his demo, he met privately with John Zeisler of InterWest Partners. "We'd been talking for the last month," says Zeisler, "but I wanted to come to PC Forum to see the audience reaction." Stewart Padveen from HotOffice is basking by the pool, having a morning mimosa, and grinning like the Cheshire cat. A distributor has seen his demo and said, "We love it. We have to have it." The lawyers will not permit names to be named, but according to Padveen, the deal gives HotOffice access to half the U.S. market, courtesy of a $50 billion telecom company. He had his one shot. He took it. And he made it.
The free copies of the New York Times being distributed outside the auditorium announce that PGP (Pretty Good Privacy) Inc. had just acquired Zoomit Corp., one of this year's presenters. Dan Lynch, founder of CyberCash Inc. and a PGP board member, is this morning's alpha male. "We ate a debutant!" he crows.
Scott Moody is alone in the hotel lobby, guarding the team's bags as his partners fetch their rental car. To treat his staff, all of whom have worked without vacations for a year now, Moody is taking them on a car trip through the Southwest, and for some camping if the weather is nice. First stop, Sedona, Arizona. "They've got this psychic vortex there," says Moody, who shares with most software engineers a connoisseur's appreciation for the truly silly and weird.
Moody's prayers have not been answered at PC Forum. Despite some interesting hallway conversations and one behind-closed-doors meeting with a potential investor, Throw's $12,000 has purchased little beyond exposure. "A couple of people came up to me and said our software is ahead of its time," he says, his customary brightness masking disappointment.
Moody remains convinced that he will have his moment. Time will continue to test him. Three months from now, he will have to take on consulting work to keep his company afloat. Glenn Northrop, the company's president, will depart to pursue "other opportunities." In the summer, with Throw a week away from financial ruin, a venture capital firm will come through with a small bridge loan. Through it all, Moody and his staff retain a messianic fervor for their product, which will be in beta by the end of the year. And they remain confident that an eligible suitor will find them while their company is in the full bloom of its youth.
After three days of irrepressible sunshine, a storm cloud has settled over the Westin La Paloma. Moody's spirits sag as he thinks about how much his crew from Seattle has been looking forward to their desert vacation. "These guys haven't had sun in so long," he says.
Moody's team drives up and begins loading the luggage into the trunk. All of them are wearing shorts, hard-soled shoes, and socks. Their legs are as white as refrigerated poultry.
By the time the car has reached the end of the driveway, the storm cloud has evaporated, and the desert sun has returned. The moment needs no rehearsal, no business plan, no venture capital. As the car enters the highway, a pale arm emerges from an open rear window, catching the rays with its palm.
Stevan Alburty alburty@earthlink.net is a New York City-based writer and technologist. His article, "The Ad Agency to End All Ad Agencies", appeared in the December:January 1997 issue of Fast Company.
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