Standing Outside a Broken Phone Booth With Money In My Hand– Primitive Radio Gods
You’re Gonna Go Far, Kid-The Offspring
Gone Away– The Offspring
Jerusalem– Matisyahu
One Day-Matisyahu
Just Another Day– Oingo Boingo
Insanity-Oingo Boingo
GoldenEye– Tina Turner
Tikva-Subliminal & The Shadow
Mr. Brightside– The Killers
Tuesday Afternoon– The Moody Blues
The Voice– The Moody Blues
Remember When– Alan Jackson
Layla– Eric Clapton
Had to Cry Today– Blind Faith
Archives for May 2010
A New Driver’s License
I must be losing my mind, at least the few shreds of sanity that still remain locked up inside the old melon. As I put the puppy into his crate I quoted Point Break. Like Special Agent Utah telling Bodhi that he has to go down I tell the pup that it has got to be this way.
He looks up at me with dark, soulful eyes that accuse me of doing him wrong. I lock the crate and smile, offer reassuring words and walk away. I have to head off to the fabulous Department of Motor Vehicles to renew my driver’s license.
My current license is set to expire in a few more days. Unless I decide to accept this next task, come this Sunday the license will self destruct just like one of those tapes on Mission Impossible. Can’t let that happen, can’t drive around the City of Angels with an expired license, so I have to head out.
I tell the pup that I want to stay and play with him. I’d much rather run around the house pretending that I am ten and not some guy in his early forties. But I can’t and since I can’t trust him yet not to engage in a search and destroy operation he can’t roam the house.
It is hard to believe that it has been a decade since the last renewal. The last few renewals were done via mail so the state has mandated that I make an appearance, a little cameo at the DMV. I don’t know how long this will take so I gear up for the trip over. Into my pockets go the BlackBerry and the iPod, I wanted to make an appointment but the website that says that nothing is available until May of 2025.
I am not sure, but I think that the maniacal laughter I hear isn’t coming from the computer but from my own lips. Into the depths I shall go, like the Fellowship of the Ring entering Moria so shall I enter the hallowed halls of a government agency. What lies in wait I know not, but I dread the trip.
In spite of suffering through a bad hair day I shall allow them to take my picture. A new mugshot of yours truly that shall serve as official identification. Will I smile or glare. Should I pretend to be sad, happy or angry? I don’t know.
All I know is that I hate the thought of being stuck in the bowels of hell that the workers call the DMV. How long shall I be forced to wait, how long must I endure such torture. That remains to be seen.
But old Jack is nothing if not a fighter, a survivor of a variety of experiences. As I once promised that wacky Shmata Queen: I shall return.
And with that my friends I bid you adieu, I find comfort in a quote and ride off to battle:
“If you find yourself alone, riding in green fields with the sun on your face, do not be troubled. For you are in Elysium and you are already dead!” Gladiator
The Male Brain Versus The Female Brain
The tweet above is from early Monday morning. It is in response to one of the most misguided, foolish and dumb articles I have ever read. A piece that supposedly was written by a woman to help other women understand men. I suppose that if you like living in a world based upon cliches and stereotypes that it is the kind of piece that makes sense.
If you like reading/watching stories/movies that portray men as cloddish buffoons than it would be a good read.
Anyhoo, my response to iVillage led to an offer to write a response. I expect that I am going to take them up on it. At the moment I am mulling over what sort of response I wish to write. I’ll keep you posted on the particulars of when and where it is posted. In the interim here is a video I posted last year.
The Male Brain Versus The Female Brain
Improve Your Marriage/Relationship Immediately
It has been a while since the fine folks at The Shack have been able to provide you with a product that you have to have. Today I am proud to announce that we have found one of the most innovative products that we have ever come across.
Let’s go to the tape for the full story about The Better Marriage Blanket.
And as always we try to include a list of past posts that contained useful information:
How To Use Office Supplies to Build a Crossbow
Who Invented Balloons
It is A Bathroom Revolution
How to Make Hard Boiled Eggs
What Not to Do-Snakebites
The Cubicle Celebrates 40 Years
How Velcro Was Invented
My New Desk- I Have To Get One
London Restaurant Tries To Solve Gas Crisis
Who Wants To Buy An Artificial Foreskin
Untapped Sources of Energy
The Mangroomer
Business Cards That Will Get You Business
Medical Technology- The future is now
Inventions You have Got To Have (Includes the ladies urinal, toilet forehead support system and much more.)
The Nose Pouch
How Much Would it Cost To Build The Death Star
Lose Weight With The Greatest Exercise Ever
The Best Clothing You’ll Ever Own
When Disaster Strikes- Blow Up Your House
A free guide to the toilets of the world
Aquanotes
Letters I have Written- Never Meaning to Send
“Nights in white satin, never reaching the end
Letters I’ve written, never meaning to send
Beauty I’d always missed, with these eyes before
Just what the truth is, I can’t say anymore
‘Cause I love you, yes I love you, oh, how I love you”
Nights In White Satin– The Moody Blues
That old familiar ache is back reminding me again that the peace I seek still eludes my grasp. Moments in time parade by with their usual fanfare ensuring that the memories receive due attention. Flames lick at my soul and an empty place fills the hole where my heart should be.
I have grown accustomed to the empty rooms and the silence that fills them. The time that I live in is the moment that I never believed would come. Promises made but never delivered upon. Chaos, confusion and conflict make brief cameos on the stage of our distress. They serve as our own horsemen of the apocalypse serving a master whose sole purpose is to cause pain.
We both know this and are well aware that it is better to try and stay calm than to allow emotion to steer the conversation. Slowly, we make our way through the wreckage, trying to make sense of the stories we are telling. You stare at me with disbelief and are unable or unwilling to see my perspective. The truth doesn’t matter because it has become easier to accept the convenience of excuse and opportunity.
You used it and walked away while I watched in anger followed by disbelief. Every other time we worked through it, found our way back. And I suppose that I figured that we would this time too. But when it didn’t happen I found myself processing strange thoughts and ideas. Started wondering if maybe it was better this way. Let go and let be, look for new beginnings.
Sat down and stared at the pictures, read the old notes and remembered. Told myself that it was proof that what was meant to be really wasn’t and went about my business. For a long while it seemed to work and I began to feel as if a weight had been lifted. The fetters that had shackled my heart were gone and I was free to go about my way.
Wonder of wonders, time had worked and I was back on my feet. In time I began to date again. The first kiss was awkward, her lips didn’t quite fit mine as yours had done. I wrote it off to nerves and pretended not to notice.
More time passed and I continued to ignore the sense of unease that had developed. I hadn’t yet figured out the obvious reason for my discomfort. Instead I grew more irritated with her behavior, blaming her for things that really weren’t her fault. It wasn’t fair and it wasn’t right. It just was.
“even now
when I never hear your name
and the world has changed so much since you’ve been gone
even now I still remember and the feeling’s still the same
and this pain inside of me goes on and on
even now
even now when I have come so far
I wonder where you are
I wonder why it’s still so hard without you
even now when I come shining through
I swear I think of you
and God I wish you knew
some how
Even now”
Even Now– Barry Manilow
So I hit here staring out into the darkness looking for answers that don’t exist, trying to make sense of that which isn’t based upon logic. Unsure and alone with my thoughts I come through with the only compromise that I can, letters I have written never meaning to send.
I write to you about my life, the mundane and the magical. I write to you about my hopes and dreams. I write to you about the things that I don’t speak of with others and I write to you about more than that. I write because it is how I maintain how my head and sense of self.
I write these letters never meaning to send but hoping that one day maybe I will.
I Hate Good Enough
Sometimes I hate the term “good enough.” I hate it because it is used far too frequently as an excuse for laziness and or a half hearted effort. It is what you say when you don’t have time to do a job properly and are forced to compensate with doing a good enough job to get by.
It is a habit that I don’t want my children to develop. I don’t want them to just get by, I want them to excel. I want them to be proud of everything that they do. I want them to go to sleep and feel good about about themselves because they know that they did their best.
I’d like to say that I have never been guilty of using good enough as an excuse. I’d like to say that it is something outside of my personal experience, but that would be untrue. Most of my education was marked by doing work that was good enough. I wasn’t always disciplined enough to put in the effort that I was capable of, but I was good enough to produce A’s and B’s across the board. Very few classes challenged me and few teachers reached out so I was content to stay with good enough.
Part of the problem was that I couldn’t see the value in grades. They didn’t make sense to me then and still don’t now. They aren’t really indicative of anything of importance to me. I am not impressed by students who held a 4.0 and I am not turned off by those who had failing grades either.
It is a contradictory position to take, to rail on about how grades are meaningless while complaining about submitting work that is good enough. But life is filled with contradiction and what I am concerned about is teaching my children how to avoid the pitfalls that snared me.
My grandfather OBM used to say that “you can’t screw an old head on young shoulders.” It is by far one of my favorite sayings and memories. Because what I am trying to do is just that. I am trying to stuff almost 41 years of life experience into heads that haven’t had the experiences I have had and can’t always see the connections. Cause and effect only goes so far with them.
And it is safe to say that some of what I am trying to teach them about life is related to my own hangups. That doesn’t make me any different than any other father. I understand that. And I understand that there are moments when good enough is the best that you can hope for, but that doesn’t change my vision of the past, the present or the future.
If you read between the lines of some of these posts you’ll see that I am hung up on the road not taken and unfulfilled potential. Sometimes it drives me and sometimes it haunts me. I go to battle and or run from those demons more often than I like to admit.
Sometimes I see that in my son. I look in his eyes and I see what lies beneath the surface. I understand that he is always listening. I understand that he remembers those who did him wrong and that he takes mental notes of what was unfair. I get it, because I do it too.
The guy who asked my girlfriend to sleep with him in 1988 is memorialized in the Jack wants to kick your ass again hall of fame. I rarely think about it, but when I do I always think that it would feel good to kick him in the balls once or twice. Silly isn’t it, twenty two years later to have any thoughts like that.
So I don’t want that for my son. I want him to be more like his sister, let things go. It is a happier, healthier way of life. Overall I like what I see and what I hear. He is focused at school and he works hard. I want to foster that so that he doesn’t slip into good enough.
The dark haired beauty is a different story. Her older brother is her hero. She wants to do everything that he does and is always willing to put the effort in. I suspect that this will continue to manifest itself in school. She drives herself there and works exceptionally hard all with the hopes of catching him.
In the midst of all this is the conundrum of how to push and motivate them to do better than good enough without being a slave driver. Their best efforts don’t have to translate into a perfect score. I won’t be a taskmaster. I won’t be feared, respected yes, but feared no.
It is a crazy thing, this gig called parenting. Every day there are thoughts and feelings to be worked through and with. Every day a push to give more, to take that extra step. Every a day a new opportunity and a new chance to try and do better than good enough.
Habits. That is what so much of this comes down, habits. In the end the final contradiction is that you hope that you do a good enough job of raising your children to make them productive and independent members of society.
Ain’t life grand.