The JackB

"When you're in jail, a good friend will be trying to bail you out. A best friend will be in the cell next to you saying, 'Damn, that was fun'." Groucho Marx

Archives for July 2009

Are We Poor?

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Poker Chips

If I had a chalkboard inside my house I would have written the following three lines on it:

Are We Poor.
Are We Poor?
Are We Poor!

Then I would have taken the erasers and clapped them together and laughed while the dust went everywhere. It must be close to 25 years or so since the last time I got in trouble for that. But I don’t have a chalkboard inside my house and I really didn’t want to take the one on my porch inside.

So instead of writing those three lines and speaking with my son about the influence of punctuation on the sentence I launched into a relatively brief discussion about why I don’t care what others think and neither should he.

It seems some other child at his camp told him that he thinks that we are poor. Being a man of class and distinction I told him that when he sees this boy tomorrow he should ask him if his father still beats his mother and whether his uncle still buggers the dog.

Take a deep breath, I didn’t say any of those things. I thought about it, but not in an angry way. I grew up in a middle class home and have spent my entire life with people who were less fortunate and more affluent than we were. During my professional career I have had my ups and downs, but have had far more ups than downs. Overall I can say that we have been very fortunate.

But the advantage of being 40 is that I have all sorts of life experience to rely upon and he at 8.5 does not. So now opens a new chapter in his life, the awareness that some of his friends have more than we do.

I am pleased to say that this is a recent event. For years now he has been playing with other children whose families are very well off. There have been lots of play dates at homes that are much larger than mine and trips in cars that cost more than both of mine. It didn’t faze him, until now.

And I suspect that the reason it has is because the kids are getting a bit more aggressive and a bit nastier about some things.

Anyhoo, when he told me that this other boy said this I told him that he needs to remember three things:

1) His own sense of self esteem and self worth comes from within. It is not based upon how many friends he has or doesn’t have.

2) We make decisions about others based upon their actions.

3) Money and possessions do not make people happy. They may help, but the ultimate source comes from within. Not to mention that he needs to get used to being a middle of the pack kind of kid. In this family we are not driven by money.

So I think that he followed what I was saying and that he got it, at least I hope so. In the interim I am going to monitor what happens with him and this other boy. Just another one of those life lessons that we get to experience.

Some Links

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Deal reached for custody of Michael Jackson’s children– Will these kids ever have anything resembling a normal life.

Movie/record industry rep says that you shouldn’t expect to be able to play your media for as long as you own it– Planned obsolescence for your media. This bothers me.

The Book vs. The Kindle: funny videos about the Kindle’s user rights shortcomings.– Some things worth thinking about.

2010 Camaro– I miss my ’77 Camaro. I loved that car.

Does Hairy Backvertising Go Too Far? Ah, another candidate for the Mangroomer. Don’t miss our series of posts about useful products. The most recent one offered information about The Bathroom Revolution as well as links to previous posts.

If I had a Spare BillIon I might Buy This

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LONDON, England (CNN) — A spectacular superyacht has been designed by an internationally renowned urban planning architect in a very unusual shape.

Seventy-six meter long “Oculus,” which is designed for 12 guests, looks like a large sea creature, with one end looking uncannily like the jaw and eye socket of a shark or a killer whale.

A second design, the futuristic, 91-meter “Infinitas,” is based on the figure-of-eight shape of an infinity loop.

The pair are the brainchild of Kevin Schopfer, a Boston, Massachusetts-based architect who felt the design of luxury yachts should move away from generic boat shapes to something more playful.

The two eye-catching designs, which include inside swimming pools and helipads, are still looking for an owner. With a starting price of $95 million for Oculus and $140 million for Infinitas, they don’t come cheap.

A Familiar Pain

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Sometimes the most painful part of the day is the moment when I first become conscious that I am awake. Lucidity brings the realization that the other side of the bed is empty and the house is silent. The old familiar sounds of the shower running aren’t around. I don’t hear any activity in the kitchen or any rustling of papers.

No one comes to my side of the bed to kiss my face and tell me that it is time to get up. I don’t roll over and find dark eyes staring at me. No arms are wrapped around me. There are no moments of silent spooning where we hold each other and enjoy the bond.

Waking up is hard because in my dreams she is still there and we are still ensconced in our secret world. Now, it is gone and there is an empty hollow feeling.

Emitting a loud groan I roll out of bed. The second most painful part of the day takes place now. When the economy crashed I lost my job. Spent months looking for something, anything, but never did find anything steady. There was the occasional odd job that paid a couple of bucks, but nothing that I could rely upon to pay the bills.

As the savings dwindled and the bills piled upon I became more depressed and more despondent about my plight. It felt like no matter what I tried it was wrong. The harder I pushed the harder life pushed back. There is nothing like getting kicked in the balls unexpectedly, really takes your breath away, but not the way you want.

Good stuff, just great.

If you were here you’d see me shuffling through the house. I wasn’t exaggerating about this being the second most painful part of the day. The morning after a fight is always bad. It doesn’t matter whether I won or lost. Your body isn’t designed to take that sort of beating. Those aches and pains, the bruises and sore muscles are god’s way of punishing you for mistreating his property.

At least that is what Jimmy says. Can’t say that I really care whether it is true or not. And if it is true then I want to have words with God. I mean really, what the fuck is the deal with throwing your children around, just abandoning like this. So, truth is that I don’t believe and it really doesn’t matter because fighting pays the bills.

People can talk about how civilized we are. They can spend hours in their comfortable homes and talk wistfully about how barbaric society used to be. I have heard it. I have listened to their rambling diatribes about how bad the Romans used to be, how only animals stage fights etc. I know better.

Because the truth is that there are people paying to see guys like me climb into a ring and go at it. Unfortunately for us we are not fighting at the garden. There aren’t trainers and cut men or doctors waiting to help us between rounds.

All we have got is the ring and a bunch of guys who bet on us. I know, some of you think that you know about this. You have seen the movies and you think that there is some sort of syndicate the runs an underground fight ring. In the movies there is always a clear line between the good guy and the villain.

That is not what this is. This is a collection of guys who have slipped between the cracks. Some of us used to carry lunch boxes to work and some of us used to ask our assistants to order a sandwich from our favorite shop. Yep, some of us had expense accounts and lived that fancy sort of life you see or read about.

Now we are just numbers that the government reports as unemployed. There is no brotherhood or camaraderie among us, at least not as far as I am concerned. I don’t want to know anything about the other guy beyond whether he can take a punch. All I care about is getting in and getting out.

The crowd likes me because I can take a beating. Every time I get in the ring I pretend that I am part of some medieval battle. I am a knight protecting my castle. That little fiction is what allows me to keep throwing myself into the breach over and over. So far it has worked, but the real question is for how long.

Standing in front of the medicine cabinet I reach inside to grab another handful of Motrin. Bottle says two, but I say six is more like it. Anything less and I won’t hardly be able to move. In a little bit the edge will be taken off of the physical pain and all I’ll be left with is the familiar pain of her absence.

Tisha B’Av 2009

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This is the second consecutive erev Tisha B’Av that has been filled with tumult. Last year had its moments but 2009 is not interested in being outdone by the past so here I sit with spinning head. Fragments of the day are swirling throughout my skull and I find myself torn and frustrated.

I suppose that from an introspective standpoint that this is appropriate for the coming chag. In some respects it leads into a number of posts that I want to write but haven’t had to time to hit yet. Sometime soon we’ll have to talk about reinventing oneself and much more.

For the moment I’ll be vague and say that today was one of those days where you realize that sometimes the mature thing requires you to swallow the bitter medicine. Today is a day where I am forced to swallow my pride and accept blame for things that I didn’t do. I hate doing that, not that anyone likes it, but I especially dislike it.

You can call call it a character defect or an attribute, it really doesn’t matter. All that matters is that I am going to do the right thing for the situation because it helps the family. One day I need to blog about the conversation I had with my son about these situations. One day I need to share the story about what happens when you are right but you have to say that you are wrong.

So continuing our vague and ambiguous description we’ll meander along to the place where I repeat that in the end you have to be able to go to sleep feeling good about yourself. I may not be happy about the events of the day, but I will sleep like a baby because I did the right thing.

This is not the last battle or the final fight, just a prelude to things to come.

Now back to Tisha B’Av. I may blog more later, but for now here is a link to more of my past posts on the day. I wish an easy fast to those who are fasting.