I set out making this thing because it was the kind of podcast I wanted to listen to about a subject matter that was important to me. If I’m being candid, I thought it’d probably get some listeners but I never expected it to get a whole lot of traction. How many people nerd out about this stuff as much as I do, in the way that I do?
The guys at Yehoodi were a big help in getting me going with the tech stuff, but I had zero experience as an interviewer outside of loving Marc Maron and James Lipton and Terry Gross. My friends that recorded with me in the early days were patient, generous, smart, engaging. They carried those early episodes through a sheer force of passion and charisma and intelligence. I think I’ve learned a little about how to do what I’m doing since that first weekend recording at Lindyfest, but probably not as much as I should have. I still talk too much and I’m a year behind on show notes.
Still, I’m really proud of what we’ve done over these past five years, and that’s not something I say very often. I’m proud that I’ve become a better listener than when I started. I’m proud I’ve been able to provide a safe platform for important, personal stories to be heard and challenging, difficult topics to be raised. I’m proud that we’ve captured the voice of incredible people that have already left us. I’m proud that we’ve been able to give folks insight into personalities they frequently only experience through YouTube, or in the middle of a circle of students at a workshop, or have never experienced before. While I’m sad that I was never able to talk with Frankie Manning in this format, being able to share first-hand stories about this incredible man with people that never got to meet him feels really gratifying.
I truly never set out in search of any kind of accolades, but I think what has me motivated to continue the podcast more than anything else are the genuinely unexpected and heartfelt responses I’ve gotten over the years - listeners who told me they got to learn about part of the lived history of this dance and this community from the people that have actually lived it; that they got to feel like they’re hanging out with old friends despite being continents and lifetimes apart; that they got to see part of themselves reflected in their mentors; that they saw things in a light they’d never previously considered. I cannot thank folks enough for taking the time to send a note, or to pull me aside at an event despite my obvious discomfort with the sentiment being shared. I am so grateful you’ve taken two hours out of your month to listen, just as I am so grateful that people have been willing to share their stories with us.
Now we’ve hit episode 50 and I don’t exactly know what’s next - especially when you consider what’s going on in the world. I was adamant about having these conversations in person and only in person, but that’s not going to happen any time soon. How do we talk about this thing that we love so much when we’re not able to actually do that thing? I just don’t know.
At the end of the day, I got to pal around with Dawn Hampton for an extra couple of hours, and I get to relive that memory whenever I want. Wasn’t it really worth it just for that?
To be honest, if it weren’t for the support, help, and hard work Alletta has provided in the second half(+) of the run, I really don’t think that I’d be able to keep it going, nor do I think I’d have even gotten this far. But she’s amazing and she makes my work better than it probably ought to be, so here we are. And I still like talking to people. I’m still learning how to be a good listener. I still have a bucket list of guests I haven’t recorded with yet and I think there are still stories to tell, and perspectives to hear that we haven’t heard yet.
My initial pitch for the podcast was: “Get away from the typical sound bites and get into what makes these dancers who they are today and explore what interests them. Ideally we’d get a deeper glimpse into what moves these people both literally and figuratively.” Somehow, I think we actually managed to pull it off. I think we can keep listening and learning. And what I’ve seen from this community is that the passion is still there and while this stupid virus is going to change things, perhaps forever, it isn’t going to kill Lindy Hop. This dance and this music will happen again sometime, somehow, somewhere, and that’s probably an interesting story to talk about, isn’t it? So we’ll figure out the when and the how, and I’ll keep talking to folks about dance, music, and the personal experiences that brought them to where they are today and see what we learn.
