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 December 2010

I Loved Her Once

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I loved her once. She was tall, with dark hair and dark eyes that sparkled. Her smile lit up her face and her laughter was infectious. But I didn’t love her because of physical gifts or actions. She was smart and ever so quick. One of the few who got me, who understood me on a different level and in a different place than the others. But I didn’t love her because of that either.

Nor did I love her because she was the one who I trusted completely and felt safe with. Didn’t love her because of soft kisses and sweet whispers.

I loved her for all of these things and more. It was complete and consuming this love. Didn’t matter that she wasn’t as logical, rational or together as she claimed. Nor did I care that sometimes she would flip out and go off about crazy stuff. Damn woman found her way inside my head and heart so I took the good and the bad. We called it a mature love, deeper and more powerful than any we had ever experienced before.

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But the gods laugh at those who aspire to climb the heights that we found ourselves upon. Icarus flew too high and his wings were shorn off causing him to fall into the the abyss. When his wife died Mighty Orpheus marched straight into the underworld and negotiated a deal with Hades to secure her return to life. Just moments away from their goal he failed in his resolve and lost her again to the underworld.

So if you ask me if I refer to us as a Greek tragedy than I say yes, I do. I do because you cannot share the things that we did, say what we said or feel such things and then fail to find a way to be together. I say it is a tragedy because to view it in other terms either diminishes it or calls into question the integrity of another. And so I have found myself alone and apart, dancing in the fire for untold ages.

I loved her once. She, who I speak of was the dearest part of my heart and the essence of my soul. I stare into the blackness in silence and replay that which once was. I think of Elizabeth Browning and Bertrand Russell. I see math, science and poetry. I hear the music and the whispers. There are moments where I feel her still, sense her close by, can smell and taste her.

But she is never there and now in my darkest hours I witness the entrance of anger. I acknowledge doubt and wonder if I am a sucker who misunderstood it all. Wonder if I saw only what I wanted to see. But I take a deep breath and recognize that the anger masks the hurt. The anger is a mask that I wear because it allows me to say that I loved her once when the truth is that I love her still.

And in the silence of the night lost in the shadows are the things that tell me that I wasn’t a sucker or a fool. The evidence isn’t based upon formulas or science. You cannot build your castles upon the foundation that we built, at least not those made of brick and stone. But you can find something more durable and lasting. The love that built what once was is more powerful than one can measure or imagine. And if you open your heart to it you will find that the person you never knew you needed hasn’t disappeared or gone away.

And in the silence of the night you might find your fingers interlocked with theirs and your breathing in rhythm as the heart you share still beats for both of you.

Life Altering Changes

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It is almost 1:30 a.m. and I have failed to adhere to a promise I made to myself to go to bed closer to midnight or earlier. For months I have sworn a blood oath to myself, hollered, begged, badgered and practically buggered all in the hope that I would do the right thing and go to bed at a normal time.

Yes, I just wrote buggered about myself in my own blog. Give me a break, it is well past the witching hour and I am too freaking tired to care. Ok, I care enough to write about it but so what. The rules of the blog are simple, be real, be honest and be authentic.

So in the interest of authenticity I am on the verge of making major changes in my life. A different man who looked an awful lot like me but had a little bit more hair would have been a bit nervous about these. He would have been more cautious and concerned about these things. He would have plotted out a course that provided more opportunities because he didn’t want to paint himself into a corner.

Well in the parlance of my youth we took that motherfucker out back and gave him an attitude adjustment. We threw his lazy ass against the wall, screamed in his face and said get your shit together or get out. More on this in a moment.

Leaves were falling, just like embers,
In colors red and gold, they set us on fire
Burning just like moonbeams in our eyes.

[Chorus:]

Somebody said they saw me, swinging the world by the tail
Bouncing over a white cloud, killing the blues.
Now I’m guilty of something…

I hope you never do
Because there is nothing
Sadder than losing yourself in love.

[Chorus]

Now you’ve ask me… just to leave you
To go out on my own
And get what I need to.

You want me to find what I’ve already had.

[Chorus 2x]

Killing The Blues– Robert Plant and Alison Krauss

That is one of my favorite songs. I have been listening to the album quite a bit thinking about “swinging the world by the tail. You know, I have been thinking a lot about The Dark Knight. It is a movie that I really like for a host of reasons, one of which is Michael Caine. He does a very fine job of playing Bruce Wayne’s butler, Alfred.

He tells this great story that I’ll quote here:

Alfred Pennyworth: A long time ago, I was in Burma, my friends and I were working for the local government. They were trying to buy the loyalty of tribal leaders by bribing them with precious stones. But their caravans were being raided in a forest north of Rangoon by a bandit. So we went looking for the stones. But in six months, we never found anyone who traded with him. One day I saw a child playing with a ruby the size of a tangerine. The bandit had been throwing them away.
Bruce Wayne: Then why steal them?
Alfred Pennyworth: Because he thought it was good sport. Because some men aren’t looking for anything logical, like money. They can’t be bought, bullied, reasoned or negotiated with. Some men just want to watch the world burn.

I like this story because it is a reminder that even though we try to apply logic, reason and rational thought to the world it doesn’t always work. It is a reminder that no matter how strong we are our ability to influence the world that we live in is limited because there are things that we cannot control.

It is a discussion that I have had more than once with the children. A discussion in which we talk about strength and how that doesn’t have to refer to physical strength. For those who know me well it sometimes sounds kind of silly, because I am like a little boy when it comes to physical strength. I am always curious how much I can lift. I love watching The World’s Strongest Man contests. They are kind of silly, but fun.

But physical strength can only take you so far. It is cerebral strength that is most important. It is emotional strength that you need. Those last two plus the former are how it should be. Anyway, I have made some significant changes in several areas, one of which is blogging. I expect to show you the blogging stuff in the not so distant future.

I need to take care of a few things, but I expect to let you know pretty soon. In the interim keep checking in here and I’ll keep you posted as things develop. Time for bed for this old man, see you later.

The Hell With The Christmas Spirit

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Every year I blog about why I hate hearing about the Christmas spirit. Inevitably these posts generate a variety of emails from my readers ranging from those that politely try to explain why I am wrong to those that suggest I might engage in some sort of anatomically impossible act or better yet…die.

Well my friends I suppose that were I flexible enough I might consider the middle option. It would save a lot of time and money. Just think I wouldn’t have to engage in small talk, cuddle or try to silently sneak away. The third option isn’t quite as interesting to me as I have quite a few things to do and death is really far down the list. However, I would like to address the man who says that I am going to burn in hell because I don’t share his beliefs. Yes, I am sure about my own beliefs and I don’t need to promote them by engaging in religious terror, but thanks for playing.

The real point of this nonsense is to remind everyone that hunger, hopelessness and hurt do not magically disappear after the holiday season. I simply hate the idea of focusing our attention on giving because of the time of year. I have heard all of the arguments about why it makes sense to make the appeal now and I just don’t buy it.

But this year I want to point the spotlight at a different group as well. Let’s not focus the beam on those who are living on the streets or who are “traditionally” poor. Let’s talk about our friends and family who are struggling in silence. They are college educated, hard working members of society who have fallen upon hard times.

They are men and women who have always been productive members of society, but for one reason or another they are struggling now. They live among you. You know them. You see them on a regular basis but you probably don’t hear their stories. They are sad, heartbroken and uninterested in pity. They don’t want to be lectured about what they could or should have done. They don’t want to be judged for for their situations.

All they want is an opportunity to take care of their families. They don’t want hand outs, but a hand up and their numbers are growing. Each day they are beating their heads against stone, fighting for each inch and wondering what they must have done wrong. It may sound like hyperbole or some sort of sad story that you would see on Lifetime, but it is not.

It is life and it is killing people. Their spirits are being broken and their faith is being crushed. The hardest part for many is the feeling that they are dying a slow death. It is like fighting a giant anaconda that slowly squeezes you to death.

And that my friends is my very happy message of cheer and good will towards men.

Why Mothers Are Overrated

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It is long past time to write about why mothers are overrated. The post where we point out that you are all crazy women who send your children to school with mismatched clothes, hair that hasn’t been brushed, runny noses and lunches that aren’t the epitome of health.

Yep, ladies I have your number. You who scream at your children to move because you are going to be late to school, who swore that you would never turn into your mother but are now her clone, I see you. I see your minivans come flying down the street and remember the girl who wouldn’t leave her house without looking just so.

You swore that you would be different and that you wouldn’t be that mom. You vowed to be better because you would plan better, care more and be smarter about it all. I am sure that you didn’t mean to be smug about it because you are caring women.

Women who knew that you could do it all because you always had. Certain that you would find a way to lose the baby weight quickly and that you would never lose that spark with your husband. Sure, you knew that there would be some changes and that it might affect you but thanks to your girlfriends and mothers you were one step ahead of the game.

And yet it didn’t quite work out that way. Things just didn’t fall into place and now the secret is out. You aren’t the mother you want to be and everyone knows it. It is obvious. Just look around and you see the other ladies who are better at it.

Their hair is still the same color as it was when they were in college and they can wear whatever clothes they want. Their cars aren’t filled with empty food wrappers, toys, sticky spots and all sorts of assorted junk. Face it, this is just more proof.

You don’t hear fathers complaining about these things. You don’t see us worrying about skinny jeans, lunches or home cooked meals. We don’t look at the other dads and complain how unfair it is that they still have a perfect ass or bitch about why they don’t deserve whatever it is they have.

I suppose that we could do all those things but that is not our gig, We are men and most of us never notice if we show up wearing the same suit as the other guys.

Ok ladies, I suppose that it is about time to say that I am screwing with you. Moms aren’t overrated at all, the fact is that most of the child rearing stuff is handled by you. You still tend to do more cooking than we do too. But the real point isn’t to start a discussion about who does more or who is more valuable.

Because our roles are different and they are both valuable. Not to mention that there are growing numbers of stay at home dads too, but that still is a different story.

Nope, the real point here is that I can’t go a week without stumbling across 1,298 posts by moms who cry about being inferior or insecure about your mothering skills. I am willing to bet that most of you are better at it than you realize. I don’t say that to blow sunshine up your behind or to curry favor either.

It is just an observation that the population isn’t shrinking. Every generation worries that it is weaker than the one before. The one thing that fathers seem to be better at is second guessing ourselves. We don’t do it with the frequency that moms do or so it seems to me.

But again, that is neither here nor there. There is no single way to parent. No roadmap or guidebook that can be applied across the board. I think that many of us would be much happier if we could let go of some of these insecurities and just accept that.

Rainy Day Music

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Music is my companion today. Alone with the dog and the pitter-patter of the rain I have my thoughts and my music:

Into The Ocean– Blue October
Calling You– Blue October
Hate Me– Blue October
You Don’t Know Me– Ray Charles
I Can’t Stop Loving You– Ray Charles
The Sun is Going to Shine Again– Ray Charles
Baby Let Me Hold Your Hand– Ray Charles
Killing The Blues– Robert Plant & Alison Krauss
Gone Gone Gone (Done Moved On) Robert Plant & Alison Krauss
When The Levee Breaks-Robert Plant & Alison Krauss