I'm all about this new National Geographic "100 Best photographs we never published" (that's not the official title but you get the gist)
The pictures, of course, are so, so beautiful. A cluster of Santas heading down into a Manhattan subway. A polar bear shaking off the water after a swim. A romantic couple at an Ole Miss fraternity party. All evocative, all complete and beautiful and all struck from their respective stories. They "just didn't work"

This week there is also an interview with Ira Glass in The Onion who, in spite of being called "Glasshole" by his colleagues at the local NPR affiliate (representative quote which perhaps explains this response-he starts out by saying that everyone who works for WBEZ is varied and competent and then notes:

But the thing that characterizes them all is that there's a kind of understated, "I might have been a person pledging, but I took an extra step, and now I work here" quality to the whole thing.

I was romantically involved with a gentleman once who worked for this radio station, and I had met Ira a few times as a fan and he was utterly gracious. But when my then-beau introduced me to Ira, at a party, adding that I was friends with Ira's Administrative Assistant, Ira looked at me as if I had handed him a turd in a frilly paper cup.

But be that as it may...Ira (we're on a first name basis, I fantasize, me and Ira) describes the process of developing a show and one thing that he describes is that they try lots of stuff, decide that, for whatever reason, it doesn't work, and keep going.

I worked at Second City for a couple of years and during that time I saw so many brilliant scenes, characters, ideas that didn't just work. I saw other ideas that worked but only when split into thirds, when combined with other ideas, when set to music.

Making stuff up is hard. Being creative is no joke. This is the other side of "everyone is creative". It's true, everyone is creative. But everything doesn't get kept. Everything doesn't earn an accolade, even the really good things, the things that might be wonderful units unto themselves, yet don't serve the whole. Sometimes those get scrapped as well.

I'm turning to these thoughts right now as I am home now after taking my second Hip Hop class. Here is the thing...even if I become incredibly proficient at this dancing, I'm still gonna be a 34-year-old white guy who is not too shabby at getting down to The Neptunes. So there's really no winning if "winning" means becoming proficient as you go. Nope, it's not like that. Here is too much information to assimilate at once...a series of moves, some are low and bouncy, some are crisp and syncopated, one involves doing a goddamn hand stand, just go, just go, just go.

"You don't get a raise for doing it right," our instructor, who goes by the name of Boogie said last week, "And they aren't gonna raise your taxes if you do it wrong." You are better off doing it wrong, but looking happy than "right" and pinched.

But it is so hard not to be pinched. What do you do in an environment where you aren't permitted to gain mastery before moving ahead? do you throw up your hands? or do your best and fucking smile.

I've been smiling.

Now here is the honest truth...I wish the class was easier. I'm not a bad dancer and I want the class to be very modest and play to my skills. I want to go and be a miracle every friday night. But instead I'm having to feel like a beginner, one who needs to smile.

After class I got on the train and went straight to the pool so I could swim some laps. I wanted to feel proficient and had planned ahead, bringing my swim gear. Here is the thing...funny that I use swimming as a way of feeling proficient. In January of 2001 I signed up for swim lessons, only able to tread water. Now I swim laps. 2001...that's about 1,000 days.

I've rejected all sorts of things in those 1,000 days. But some stuff I've kept and some of that stuff, in turn, is awfully cool. Today, I go swimming. And one of these days I'll be standing on my hands when Pharrell sings "Beautiful..."

It just takes a lot of fucking work to have anything left over that's worth hanging on to, that's worth showing to somebody and saying "hey! I did that!"