Unpublished Posts Theater
Most of the time, I write the posts for this blog in one sitting. Sometimes, albeit rarely, I will write half of a post and come back to it later. Often, though, I’ll write something that I ultimately don’t think is worth posting or completing. These posts will loiter in the “Drafts” folder until there are four or five of them, at which point I will flush them into the void, their underlying ones and zeros erased forever. Today, I pay homage to four posts that are likely about to meet their demise:
“Dog is in the Details”
I never used to be able to finish writing a sentence without reading it over three times first. I needed to make sure everything was spelled correctly and the words went together well. I didn’t realize at the time that I was performing a fundamental act of good writing. By making sure everything was in the right place, I gave myself time to think over the next sentence, and maybe the one after that as well. I minded the process and the results were good. That’s why you mind the process: you get better without realizing it, like a runner who relentlessly chases cars. Even if she never catches the car, that runner’s getting faster and stronger.
I am confounded by the Nets. I have started to watch them play, at first mostly because I had Devin Harris on my fantasy team, but I’ve continued to watch as Harris’ play has deteriorated to the lowest point yet this season—and he’s still kind of a badass. The team is pretty fascinating because they have some good basketball players—Harris; Brook Lopez, who is just f*cking awesome; Courtney Lee and Chris-Douglas Roberts, all of whom who will be far above-average NBA players, except for perhaps Lee, who may simply be above average. That’s a long way of telling you they’re actually pretty good, except they’re not. They are 2-23 as I write this. And yet.
“The Top Ten Years of the Last Ten Years”
2006: I get a job at a trade magazine. I think I am “better” than it. I am not.
And then… well, a summit meeting was called to discuss how the terms had been altered. The other party was unhappy with how it had gone down. Being fine with everything, it was my inclination not to attend. I attended anyway. This was a mistake. This wasn’t like a guy in the desert headed for a mirage in the hopes of getting water; it was like heading for a mirage knowing full well that he was going to get a face full of sand.