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 February 2011

The 25 Best Movie Sound Tracks

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Death Watermelon

Time Magazine has a list of what one columnist consider to be the 25 Best Movie Soundtracks. A link to the full list can be found here. Some thoughts about the list:

I can’t stand the Sound of Music. The hills would be better if they were quiet.

Grease– Part of my childhood so I have to give it a thumbs up. Hand Jive baby.
Mary Poppins– Same story.
Saturday Night Fever– I remember when this came out.
Easy Rider– Watched this before a couple of cross country road trips.
Sixteen Candles– John Hughes will be missed.
Singles– I had my own apartment and was enjoying the bachelor life when this came out.

So maybe this really isn’t focused on what should or should not be on the list- but it is my blog and I will write if I want to. 😉

Other Places I Write

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If you are one of the seventeen long time readers you have been privileged to watch me become one of the leading bloggers in my space. Yes, I am number one in a field of two, although that other guy hasn’t updated his blog in 18 months so maybe it is just me. Hmm…maybe I should take that as a sign of my dominance and crow about how I crush the opposition. Yeah, I like that, I can be like Conan the Barbarian who says that what is best in life is to “To crush your enemies, see them driven before you, and hear the lamentations of their women.”

Way back  during the Ice Age when I was in college one of the guys used that same quote except he said “laminations” instead of “lamentations.” I called him The Office Barbarian for a while. Speaking of barbarians I once earned that moniker for myself. It was the summer of 1985 and my girlfriend and I had just broken up. Her best friend screamed at me and told me that I was an Uncivilized Barbarian. I remember that for a variety of reasons, not the least of which was that it took place in the middle of Jerusalem. I remember listening and then trying to figure out how to say it in Hebrew.  I suppose that is indicative of how seriously I took her insult.

Anyway, I want to shift the focus to back to the future we spoke about that summer, the 21st century. Since it just so happens we are currently living in the 21st century I can tell you that some of our predictions weren’t quite what we thought that they would be:

  • I don’t own a jetpack or any sort of Jetson’s like car.
  • Anne Stacey didn’t go to prom with me, but we did have one torrid love affair. Ah, the sweet memories of youth.
  • The Celtics did fade into obscurity and the Lakers were dominant.
  • The Dodgers won another World Series title (1988) but sadly haven’t repeated it.
  • We have portable movie players.
  • I topped out at 5’10, never did make it to 6’2.
  • Rocky 49 hasn’t been made yet but there is still time for that to happen

Enough of the nostalgia let’s get back to talking about my words, my writing and the posts that you might not have seen because they appear elsewhere. You can find some of my work here. But there are others floating around cyberspace and while I won’t link to all of them I will share some here:

This Song Brings Joy to My Ears

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This song brings joy to my ears. Why? Because my son sings along with it and every time he does he lights up. His entire demeanor changes and he begins to glow. His eyes sparkle and he gets a bounce in his step. And when I watch him my heart swells because I see endless potential. I see such a bright future and I wonder what he is going to fill it with.

Tonight he and his little sister sang it together and for a few moments I wondered if I had stepped into some sort of music video. There was this surreal, ethereal quality about it all. For a few moments they held hands and danced around the house and I knew that if god forbid something happened to their mother and I they would take care of each other. The bond between them is strong, they get it.

And for those few moments as they sang I stared and marveled at how much they have grown. My babies are babies no longer they are well on their way to the next stop on their journey through life. Untold adventures to discover and share. Experiences to be had. Some will be good and some will be bad, but my heart tells me that they’ll be ok. Doesn’t mean that I won’t worry because that is my job. Dad, ever the dreamer pictures himself at times as a silent guardian and other moments something else.

In a short time I’ll head off to bed hearing these words as I lay my head down to sleep:

I’d like to make myself believe
That planet Earth turns slowly
It’s hard to say that I’d rather stay
Awake when I’m asleep
‘Cause everything is never as it seems

‘Cause I’d get a thousand hugs
From ten thousand lightning bugs
As they tried to teach me how to dance

The Blogger I Want To Be

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Sometimes I like to revisit old posts and see how they have held up. I wrote The Blogger I Want To Be in November of 2006. I can’t say that I always remember writing each post but in this case I do. I had just finished speaking with someone who was very important to me. We had been speaking about the future and it made me think about what I wanted from blogging.

The Blogger I Want To Be. I like the sound of that, kind of reminds me of the old standby essay that teachers made us write: What I did on my Summer Vacation.

I like it because I love summer. It is my favorite time of years. I love going to the beach and camping trips. I love leaving town and doing a little globe trotting. Summer reminds me of hot dogs and barbecues, summer loves (ok, all you Danny Zuko and Sandy wannabees you can stop humming ‘Summer Nights.’) and just endless possibilities.

Endless possibilities, that is what the beginning of every summer felt like to me. Who knew how many cool adventures lay ahead of me. I never did, but I always looked forward to them.

The Blogger I Want To Be knows how to tell a good yarn. He can take those endless Summer nights and compose a tale that is too compelling to skim. He can come up with tremendous insight into the human psyche and what our roles are in the world.

The Blogger I Want To Be can write about politics and history. He is erudite, refined and witty and he does it all without coming off as being stuffy. People seek him out because it feels good to be near and to share in his community. He is not arrogant nor pretentious although his detractors wish that he were.

The Blogger I Want To Be is not just a myth or even a mister. The Blogger I Want To Be is a goal that I set for myself. I don’t know if I will ever be that guy. In part because I am very much human and subject to all of the failings and frailties of humanity.

But without The Blogger I Want To Be as a goal I am not sure if this blog would worth visiting. Goals are important. They help to keep us motivated so that we always try to do our best. Why work if you are going to give a subpar performance. If you are going to do it you might as well do it well.

I’d write more but I hear the roar of the ocean in the background and I desperately need to feel some sand between my toes. I think that I am going to go commune with the sea for a while. I’ll catch up with you all later

Singing With My Son And Dancing With My Daughter

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Dear Children,

This is a brief post from abba. Just a few words and thoughts while they strike me. The two of you are 10 and 6.5 years old. I remember these being your age better than you know. I turned 6.5 in 1975 and 10 in 1979. In many ways the world that I remember is so very different from the one that you live in. Sometimes I play the song below on a CD but not as often as I once thought that I might. Free to Be You and Me was big when I was a kid. I bought the disc before either one of you was born because I thought that one day I might play it for you.

It feels like a thousand years have passed since those days. Sometimes you look at old pictures of me and you smile. You like to tease me about being skinny with muscles and my short hair. Let me tell you for the millionth time, I had what they call a six pack. Those are the lines in my stomach and yes they were like grooves. You won’t want to know this but girls used to like to run their fingers over those lines. That last line is there in part for my own ego and to publicly shame myself. It is reminder that I need to push harder to get myself in better shape.

And my hair, well that was called a Flat Top. I started wearing it that way when I was 15 and didn’t stop until I was around 25 or 26. I would still wear it today if I could. I loved it. Initially I started wearing it because in high school I was a swimmer and it was advantageous to have less hair. Not to mention that I had a Jewfro. Look at the older pictures and you’ll see that kinky curly hair was unmanageable. Unlike you, little sweetheart who has long locks of black hair and curls that women die for. My hair didn’t grow like that.

Little mister, I know that it irritates you that your sister has my coloring and that yours is like mom’s. That is not a bad thing but when you are ten you want to look like dad, I know because I remember feeling the same way. Look at my eyes and look at grandpa. I have hazel-green and his are bright blue like your aunt’s. So I get it, I know what it is like to have a little sister take something that you think you should have. But I can also tell you that you have something that she doesn’t.

My hands and my feet. Or should I say that I have grandpa’s hands and feet and you have mine. That is a silly way of saying that all three of us have the same hands and feet, not to mention very similar temperaments and manners. We are all different people and there are things that are entirely our own, but there are things that only we have.

Technically this post is being written early Wednesday morning but since I haven’t gone to sleep yet it is late Tuesday night to me. A few hours ago you introduced me to a new song called Fireflies by Owl City. We sang along with it together. You don’t know how much I enjoy this singing with you, our voices mingling together. I sing softly because I don’t want to overwhelm your voice. I have a deep voice and you don’t, not yet. I am guessing that one day it will be like mine but for the time being it is not and that is ok.

You asked me why I carried you to bed tonight and I just smiled. I was surprised that you didn’t tell me to put you down. The reason I carried you was because all of a sudden I had a vision of you as a really big kid and it hit me how little time is left. Unless something bizarre happens I’ll be strong enough to carry you for decades, but you’ll soon be big enough that it won’t happen. It won’t be necessary. Oh, you’ll lean on me at some point. You’ll need me just as I’ll need you, but this is different. When you become a father you’ll understand it better. You’ll understand the desire to hold onto these last few moments of this particular stage.

And as for you, little missy well you are an entirely different story. You are most assuredly your own person and just as dear to me as your brother. You aren’t a boy and I wouldn’t have it any other way. It scares me sometimes to see how damn smart you are. I catch you watching us and I see the wheels turning in your head. I know that you are taking notes. I watch you try to manipulate me into getting your way. You are a good girl and you don’t do it all the time, but you do try. I am not surprised by it because that is what kids do. I did it too.

Tonight you danced to Party in the USA and a few other songs. You asked me to watch you so I did. You still move like a little girl and believe me I am happy about that. But I see you watching the big girls and I know what is in your head. The day is coming when you’ll figure out how to dance like a big girl. I can’t stop it and I am not going to try because you are very much like me. If I forbid it you are going to do it anyway. So I am going to do what I can to be me subtle about trying to help keep you out of trouble. Like I said, I know some of these things because I was in your shoes and I remember. And more importantly, you are like me and I recognize those signs too.

Sometimes I wonder if you remember how I used to dance with you when you were a toddler. I wonder if when the Godfather waltz comes on something clicks inside your brain and you smell daddy and remember how I used to twirl you around. You used to giggle and I’d tell you stories.

Anyway, it is late and there will be time to share more with you later. I love you guys.