Day 2838 - Ira Glass

So yesterday James, Gretchen, and I drove up to Fort Collins to see the number one person on my "People Who Inspire You" List: Ira Glass.  And I've spent the last hour or so trying to write a blog about it.

I'm finding that it's extremely difficult to put into words how amazing it is to see someone doing exactly what I want to do with my life (and especially doing it extremely well).  And it's not just difficult to describe because I feel like my writing won't live up to Ira's style of storytelling, but also because summing up a two hour talk from someone with such amazing insight always seems like a cheap shot: spouting out a few slogans, or soundbites, completely out of context and with little regard to. . . well anything really.

I'd have to say that what I love about Ira Glass is that he's so completely honest, and it seems like distilling that raw emotion, or power--or whatever you want to call it--into a blog feels like cramming a library full of all the best stories in the world into a fortune cookie.  Sure, I could talk about how he basically cut audio into what sounded exactly like an episode of This American Life right there on stage using just a microphone and an iPad.  Or I could tell you any number of quotes that gave me chills.  I'm sure you would be interested about the part of the talk when he made a balloon animal poodle and gave it to a lady in the fifth row, which was fantastic.  But that couldn't begin to sum it up.  
Summing it up would be impossible.  As Ira said yesterday, "The goal isn't to report what is new.  It's to report what is."  Not just the flash, but the real truthy details of something.

And I must say, when that is your goal, blogging becomes extremely difficult.    

Blogging with that in mind is like having Ira Glass standing over my shoulder, his glasses gently reflecting the light of my computer screen.  And he's softly mumbling, "I was, um. . . I was really inspiring today, you know what I mean?  And it's like you didn't really absorb it.  You tried to absorb it, but you didn't really absorb it.  I've gotta tell you, uh, I don't know if you. . . If you really understood it."

And that picture is super intimidating right about now, so instead of trying to sum up honestly, I'll just leave you with this:



love always,
-jim.

P.S. Two more things:

1. Nanowrimo starts tomorrow and I'm going to try really, really hard this year (fingers crossed).
2. I've been thinking over the past couple of weeks that I really want to apply to be a This American Life intern, and hearing Ira Glass speak today only confirmed my aspiration (fingers crossed).       

   

Day 2833 - A Snow Day

So it snowed tonight.  And it seems like every year during the first snow, everyone rediscovers snow for the first time.  Facebook is filled with status updates: Snow! It's snowing! I hope tomorrow's a snow day!  People look out their windows with a sort of odd curiosity, like they'd forgotten that snow even existed--like summer was so long that it made them forget the comfort of a warm blanket and a cup of hot chocolate.  The first snow seems to bring back all those memories in a flood.

Most years I share the sentiment of those people.  No matter how old I get, I seem to gasp whenever I first see flakes outside my window.  But this year--for the first time in a long time--I find myself simply zipping my sweatshirt slightly higher and looking out the window thinking, how strange.

The biggest snow storm I can remember started 14 years ago yesterday--my birthday.  It might not have been the biggest storm during my lifetime, but it was about 150% of the average October precipitation and it did lead to the postponement of my ninth birthday party--which, at that age, was a fairly catastrophic scheduling adjustment.   

On that day, my dad dug out trenches in the snow like a maze, and I spent the entire day outside.  I think I built a snowman and a snow fort; and I probably fantasized about throwing snowballs at passersby--but I don't think that I actually did.  I just camped out, my black and purple coat soaking up the snow, until it got dark.  And I did the same thing for the next two days until the blizzard was gone.  It was a pretty good birthday--and a pretty good snow day.

However, this year I find that I'm not sure if I want a snow day.  When I look at the snow, I don't heave any sigh of relief or wipe my brow at the prospect of escaping work or stress.  I really just see snow.

And that's not to say that I haven't been working.  I've been working a lot.  It's almost all that I do.

Instead, I think it's because I'm in a sort of in-between time.  Between my work in college and my work on my career--whatever that may be.  I'm in the transition between my education and my passion.  And maybe you don't really need a snow day during that time.  You just need to spend all of your time trying to figure out where you're headed and what work you love to do.  And once you find that work, that's when you can start to remember--despite the length of the summer--what winter is like.  You can finally remember the comfort of a warm blanket and a cup of hot chocolate.  But until then, you just keep searching for the job that is your job and the future that is your future.  You keep searching, and once you find it you can understand its amazement again.

At least I hope that's the case, because this year I can't help but fear that I'm stuck in a rut and I need a change of seasons as a soon as possible.

love always,
-jim.