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 March 2011

A Familiar Pain Part II

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This is a continuation of a post that started here.

George Foreman once gave an interview in which he said that his children wouldn’t be successful fighters because they had grown up with too much. They didn’t know hunger or homelessness. They hadn’t ever had to fight for much more than an extra slice of pizza. He said that because of this they wouldn’t have the edge or the fire to stand in the ring night after night. George might want to rethink that one. I didn’t grow up in the ghetto nor did I grow up with a silver spoon. Upper middle class, college educated and productive member of society is what you would have said about me.

Father, friend and successful would have followed. There was nothing to suggest that one day I would stand in a ring and try to kick the crap out of the guy standing across from me. No one could have imagined that I would fight for a living and if they did they would have rubbed their eyes and double checked to see if they were awake. I was just another happy go lucky guy who went work, coached soccer and took family vacations. Look at old pictures of that guy and you see a man who might not have had it all, but knew that he was on the road to getting it.

He never doubted that he would get there, wherever there was. It was just a matter of time. All he had to do was work hard, keep his eyes/ears open and be ready to jump when opportunity knocked. Except the life that he lived found itself riding the proverbial crazy train and when it jumped the tracks everything went to hell.

You might ask why I have developed the habit of referring to myself in the third person. It is simple. I can’t afford to think about who I used to be. It only makes me angry. I didn’t choose to fall down the rabbit hole. I didn’t choose to live in Bizarro world. I am not here because of addiction or any sort of problem other than “shit happens.” It used to be that it happened to other people and then it happened to me.

So I talk about who I used to be in third person because it is easier. It stings less and I don’t run screaming through the halls, well not as often.

Sometimes I wonder if that guy could have imagined that he would turn into a man who would make his living with his fists. Sometimes I wonder if he could have imagined that one day he would find himself fighting in abandoned warehouses for a payday that he once would have scoffed at. Maybe he could have pictured it. If you would have explained how circumstances threatened his children he might have nodded his head and said that he could picture it. Except the thing is that he would have been incapable of truly understanding the feeling of fear and failure.

Professional fighters don’t fight as often as we do. They have access to better training facilities and better trainers. There is plenty of time to prepare for a fight. Time to develop a scouting report and battle plan. Time to practice working on the plan so that when you do fight you can capitalize upon the other’s weakness. It is great system, but only for those who are about it. The rest of us aren’t so lucky. There are no doctors to certify our health or partners to spar with.

The guys told me that you never forget your first fight and they were right. I remember stepping into the ring and thinking that it was going to be easy. The guy standing three feet away from me was several inches shorter and clearly weighed less. I was out of shape, but figured that if I rushed him the way Tyson used to I could end it quickly. Shock and awe, except I was the one who was surprised.

He walked right up and tagged me in the mouth and the side of the head. While my head was spinning he took out my legs and we went down. I didn’t know which way was up or what was going on. All I knew was blinding flashes of white light. Someone kept screaming. Later on they would tell me that those screams came from me. They weren’t described as screams of pain, but anger.

I can’t decide if I was lucky that these fights are unsupervised or not. If they were it would have been called early and I would have been a victim of TKO. Instead I was subjected to one hell of a beating. Somehow I managed to stand up again. I wrapped my arms around the other guy. Some people described it as a bear hug, but not me. I still didn’t know where I was. But I did know that I had to stop the pounding long enough to think, or at least I think that is what I thought. It is hard to say for certain.

What is known is that I headbutted him and broke his nose. In the movies this would have been followed up with a series of lightning quick punches that led to victory. In real life it wasn’t that pretty. I hit him in the throat. It was an accident. I was aiming for his head and missed. Since there was no ref to deduct points and or warn me I was able to throw him out of the ring. It wasn’t anything amazing. I didn’t pick him up, hold him over my head and throw him into the third row. I was kind of scooped him up and forced him over the ropes.

He landed on his head and didn’t get up. Four hours later Jimmy dropped me off at the motel I was staying at. I had $500 in my wallet and a bottle of whiskey that he said I should start drinking from immediately. I didn’t leave the room for two days. I was battered, bloodied and bruised. Truth is that I didn’t plan on fighting again. But some choices had been taken from my control and time would show that was one of them.

Amazon Cloud Drive- Online Storage

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I am a huge fan of Amazon. I have used them many times to purchase a wide variety of products ranging from food/drug to various electronic items/devices. And of course I have used them as my online bookstore too. During the past week they have gained quite a bit of credit with me for two new offerings:

  1. Amazon Android Apps Store
  2. Amazon Cloud Drive

Last week I moved from a BlackBerry Curve over to a DroidX.  I felt that the Android community had more to offer me. The turtle like web browser was infuriating and the apps weren’t especially impressive. Not to mention that since I use Gmail and Google Apps for work it seemed like a very simple and effective  way to improve my productivity.

The apps store has been a pleasure to use. Every day they offer a paid app for free and in addition they let you test drive many of them on the site. It may not give you an exact idea of how it will work on your phone, but it does provide a foundation that you can use to try and determine your interest level.

I haven’t used the Amazon Cloud Drive service yet but I expect that I probably will. It is a brand new service that looks great to me.

Amazon Cloud Drive

For those who are unable to see the image here is the skinny:

What is Amazon Cloud Drive?

Amazon Cloud Drive is your hard drive in the cloud. Store your music, videos, photos, and documents on Amazon’s secure servers. All you need is a web browser to upload, download, and access your files from any computer.

5 GB of free online storage

Your Cloud Drive comes with 5 GB of free storage—enough space to store up to 1000 songs. This space is yours to use as you like and you will never be charged for it.

Unlimited, secure access from any computer

Use your Amazon Cloud Drive as the go-to location for all your important files. At work, at home, during your commute or while on vacation—you’ll always have access to everything you’ve uploaded to your Cloud Drive through your Amazon account.

I think that it is a pretty cool service. For a long time now I have been exploring various ways of storing files in the cloud. It is useful as a backup and as a simple way to access them from wherever I am. The two biggest concerns that I have had have always rested upon security and price. In theory Amazon has addressed both of these issues for me. I expect that I might have to try it  out.

Side note: I wasn’t compensated for this review. I haven’t had any contact with Amazon as anything other than a consumer.

 

1974

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This is a post for The Red Dress Club.

For this week’s RemembeRED prompt, we’re asking you to remember kindergarten. If, after thinking about it for a while, you can’t recall anything, move on to first grade.

Mine your memories and write about the earliest grade you can recall. What was special? What was ordinary? What did you feel? Hear? See? Smell?
Don’t underestimate the power of your memory. If you have a difficult time remembering, sit down and freewrite…you’ll be surprised what comes to the surface.

Immerse yourself in crayons, chalk dust, and those tiny milk cartons

And the story goes like this:

A little boy with olive skin, green eyes and curly black hair stands in front of a school. It is the first day of something called kindergarten. There are three other boys, G, Robert and Damon standing with their mothers. A week ago we all went to a party at some girl’s house. It was in her backyard. I didn’t know her but I like having ice cream there. Mom said that I should try to meet the other kids because we are all going to the same school.

I’d rather be at her house again eating ice cream. I am not real interested in listening to G’s mom introduce all of us boys to each other.  Our teacher is a lady named Ms. Lane. I am not real happy about being with more girls. Mom and dad didn’t listen to me and brought home two more sisters. Mom says that they are twins and that means they are extra special.

I think that they are extra annoying. All they do is cry. My other little sister annoys me too. She is always following me around the house and wants to go to school with me. This kindergarten thing is ok. There are a lot of kids but we don’t all go at the same time. Some kids go in the morning but I don’t really know them because I go in the afternoon.

We sit on the rug and listen to Ms. Lane talk. I look at the clock on the wall but get upset because I can’t read it. ‘G’ can and he tells me what time it is. Since that first day of school we have played together lots of times. I have no idea that 37 years later we’ll still be friends or that I’ll be in both of his weddings. He lives around the corner from me and has two hamsters. I like him because he likes to play games and ride big wheels with me. Besides he always has a Twinkie in his lunch. He shares it with me. I wish that my mom would give me one in my lunch.

One day a boy named Joey rolled a tire on top of me. I didn’t like being trapped on my back like a turtle. It made me angry, but I didn’t punch Joey. I was afraid to get blood on my hands. I know about it. Robert told Ms. Lane that Danny hit him so she told Robert to hit him back and Robert did. I have never seen so much blood come from a nose. It dripped all over the floor and Danny cried.

Sometimes we get to use tools. ‘G’ and I like to take saws and cut pieces of wood. One time when we are cutting I stop paying attention and start cutting my fingers. ‘G’ notices and tells me to stop. We wonder why I didn’t notice. It is very cool that I didn’t cry. One of the other kids in class rides in a car that has the same name as the president, Ford.

He took over for the other guy, Nixon but I don’t really know why. I just know that some mommies don’t like him. One of the boys in class says that his daddy was a soldier in Vietnam. We want to see a real army man but he never comes to school. They drive a Volkswagen Bus. I like it because it has a bed in it. My daddy drives a blue Dodge Dart, wish we had a van.

Some kids get to walk to school but I don’t. Mom drives me both ways. Every day she makes lunch for me. I have a metal lunchbox. It is a Six Million Dollar Man lunch box. That is my favorite show. My parents gave me a Steve Austin action figure for Chanukah. He has a bionic eye. Sometimes I jump of the monkey bars and pretend I am him.

We are learning how to read. The book is called Dick and Jane. Robert’s older brother says that Dick has one too and then laughs. I ask mom to tell me why this is funny. She says to ignore him. I like to read for her but I don’t like when she puts Muenster cheese in my lunch box.

Dear Son

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“My child arrived just the other day
He came to the world in the usual way
But there were planes to catch and bills to pay
He learned to walk while I was away
And he was talkin’ ‘fore I knew it, and as he grew
He’d say “I’m gonna be like you dad
You know I’m gonna be like you””

Cats In The Cradle
httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zH46SmVv8SU

Dear Son,

The ides of March are upon us or maybe they have just passed us by- sometimes it is hard to say. You stayed home from school today and hung out with me. I am a work from home father who is busting my ass in 69 ways to provide for you and your sister. I wasn’t completely convinced that you were sick but I had a feeling that you might need a mental health day which is why I agreed to you staying home.  Not to mention that our initial plan was for you to go to school late, around 11 or so.

We rarely do this and you never miss school due to illness so it seemed ok. You climbed into my bed, turned on the television and hung out while I went to work in the other room. Periodically you would venture out looking for food or just to check on me. You probably didn’t noticed that every time you came out I was shocked by how big you are now. I know that this sounds ridiculous to you, but it is something that parents do. Time really does move faster than we realize. After I finish writing this post I have to put one together for The Red Dress Club about kindergarten.

That is 37 years ago, kindergarten that is. I haven’t quite figured out what angle I want to take for the post so you could say that this is my way of stalling. I find it interesting to think about certain similarities between now and then. The country was at war and the president was under fire. The economy wasn’t particularly good either. But some things are very different. When you learn about Martin Luther King Jr. you ask me questions about skin color. You don’t know racism. You don’t understand it, you never have. Your little sister really doesn’t get it. To you color is insignificant and I am happy about that.

Your parents have taught you to be color blind and to judge people based upon their actions. But in 1974 the idea that we could have a Black president was a dream to a lot of people. I can’t say that I ever thought about it. I was five and pissed off that I had twin sisters. I already had a little sister and what did your grandparents do? They brought home two more. Back to Dr. King for a moment. He was assassinated in 1968, just six years before I started kindergarten. It won’t take long for you to start to realize that six years doesn’t feel very long to people.

Ten years ago you were an infant and I remember it like it was today. You don’t really remember the business trips that I used to take. You certainly don’t know that I would spend time looking for gifts for you or how I hated to say goodbye. You don’t remember playing with blocks on 9/11. Thankfully you were too young to remember, but I remember. I remember watching the towers burn and the jumpers. I remember knowing that people were dying and that war was coming. I remember wondering what the world would look like when you were 18.

You have been the source of so many of these posts as has your sister. I watch you grow and marvel at the things you do. You are smarter than I am. So sharp and so very clever. But you also have some of my traits that are less noble. That fire that burns in my belly burns in yours too. You internalize a lot and live a million years inside your head. Sometimes it hurts me to see the pain you put yourself through. It hurts me because I blame myself for passing that along. I can’t fix these things. I can’t take apart your head and rebuild the things that I don’t like or that you don’t like.

I can only try to help you work through it and figure it out like I have. Don’t get me wrong, you are perfectly normal but it is hard for parents to watch our children get hurt. But I won’t protect you from everything. I won’t let you win every game. I won’t let you beat me unless you earn it. Life isn’t fair and it never will be. So sometimes I have to be hard and let you fail so that you learn.

It doesn’t mean that I am going to let your self esteem be destroyed, but I will teach you how to lose gracefully. I will teach you that failure is something that can make you stronger. It sucks. I hate it. I have failed at a number of things. I have fallen down and wondered how I was going to pick myself up.

Those moments are probably what pain me the most because like you, I remember them.I hear the echoes of the past in the present. But you cannot be afraid to try things. You cannot let fear rule you. Be brave. Be bold. Be fierce. Sometime it is important and necessary to let the chains fall and run with the moon. Unleash your passion and dance in the fire. And never forget that your father will always love you. You won’t always understand why I do what I do or make the choices I make, but I ask that you trust me and accept that even when you don’t there will come a time when it will make more sense.

There will be more of these letters, but if for some reason there isn’t take care of your family and trust your instincts. You may not always know what to do but you will figure it out and land on your feet.

-Dad