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

Musical Monday

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Every week I say that Mondays would be better if they started an hour later. And every week music helps me make it through my day. Here is a quick snapshot of what I have been listening to:

Clubbing In The Blogger Era

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My mother likes to tell people about a lovely phase I went through where I would introduce myself to other children in the following manner: “Hi, I am Jack.” Apparently I would follow that lovely greeting by punching whomever I had just introduced myself too.

I suppose that I could offend or endear myself to a lot of people by saying that I had already mastered the Bush doctrine by the grand old age of three. I’d like to say that I used to climb to the top of the monkey bars and dare the other children to pull me off of it, but that would be a lie.

But this a blog so let’s say that I did do that. We’ll call it the Cheney or Rumsfeld doctrine- your pick. Alternatively I could say that I told the kid who preceded me at the top that he must leave immediately and then when asked to confirm I said that I would have to confirm with my council of wise men before admitting to that. You can call that the Obama doctrine.

If you are still reading I am

You can find the rest of this post over at Studio Thirty Plus where I am the Featured Writer today.

Twitter, Triberr & Blogging

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“Love me – that’s all I ask of you
Anywhere you go let me go too
Love me – that’s all I ask of you…”
All I Ask Of You- The Phantom Of The Opera

If you are a long time reader you might wonder if I am going to try to integrate a story or two about The Song of My Heart into this post but my focus is different. This time I quote from The Phantom because it states succinctly what so many bloggers hope for. We ask for our readers to love us and to follow us on our journey through cyberspace wherever we may go. We want them to be like the lover who laughs at our good jokes and our bad. We  want them to comfort and console us and to celebrate our victories too.

Though some of us may wear masks our words share more of our thoughts about life and ourselves than others might realize. Cloaked in the silent embrace of our dreams we send our thoughts out in the hope that they will resonate with others. And thus we come to the place where I introduce you to my new favorite tongue twister, one that no one said or knew when I was a child.

Twitter, Triberr & Blogging

Try saying that ten times without stumbling over a word. It is quite a mouthful. Now if those last 5 words don’t lead to all sorts of interesting keywords on the blog I don’t know what will. Several days ago I blogged about my affiliation with Triberr. Triberr is one of a number of blogging tools that I use on a daily basis. I like it because it has had an immediate impact upon my traffic, reach and exposure. That is something that is very valuable to me and to many bloggers.

I love to write. In a perfect world I would get paid to do what I am doing here. In a perfect world I would support my family solely upon blogging and have time to write books. That cavernous space between my ears is filled with more than empty space. There are a million stories waiting to be told. I often talk about being a dreamer because I am. But I am also the dreamer that believes in trying to live his dreams and not dream his life. So sometimes I step off of the cliff and see if I can fly.

Triberr appears to me to be a tool that can help me get there. That is not to say that it can’t be done in other ways. I am part of the NintendoEnthused group. Klout has provided me with several perks. Twitter and blogging has led to real life relationships that have turned into friendships and writing opportunities. The point is that I taken the potential of social media and turned it into income. It is not an intangible thought of can it be done because I have the experience of having done it.

However it would be foolish of me not to explore tools and resources especially those that have great potential. I mention this because I have been engaged in conversations with a number of people about Triberr and about their concerns about whether it will cause them to appear to be spammers. I think that they have valid points and that it is worth paying attention to. Although you have control of what you send out it is possible that you will inadvertently tweet something that you find to be objectionable. So you have to find a way to be comfortable with what is going on.

From a different perspective I am concerned about the feelings of those in my tribes regarding my posts. I am prolific. I write more frequently than most bloggers. It is not unusual for me to post several times a day. My goal is not to monopolize their streams of have them feel like I am taking advantage of them in any way. At the same time I am not going to change how I blog. I am going to write about whatever I want as often as I want to. I don’t say that because I am trying to be a jerk but because I believe that my success is related to two things.

1) I love to write. This is fun for me. I enjoy what I am doing.

2) I am real. I am authentic. People relate to my words and to me.

So I can’t afford to change who I am. Frankly I am not that good of an actor. If you know me in real life you know that my face doesn’t hide my feelings. You know when I am happy/angry/sad. I am who I am. Don’t know who I may yet become but I have my ideas.

Like I have said many times, it is a big blogosphere. If you don’t like my blog you don’t have to read it. Go elsewhere. In the interim I am going to keep doing what I am doing and I am going to keep using Triberr. A week isn’t enough time for me to evaluate it in the sort of depth that I like or want.

Beyond that I’ll share another quick thought with you. I am still wrestling with the best way to highlight my content and ensure that the most popular is easily accessible. I haven’t come up with a good system yet, but I am working on it. Got to run, time to hit the gym and run errands with the family. Or as that goofy songwright once said, “we started a story whose end must now wait.”

 

Becoming a Dad

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jacksteiner

I can’t tell you when we decided that it was time to try to become parents, at least I can’t give you an exact date. Maybe I should have started blogging far earlier than I did. Not sure that it really matters as I remember the important details or at least some of them.

 

If you’ll forgive the venture into the land of TMI, there was something surreal in knowing that this was not a drill. It was time to find out if the boys could swim. For years I had worked hard to make sure that the swimmers wouldn’t break free and now I was doing the opposite. Now I was worried that perhaps they might not know what to do, maybe I had stupid sperm that would swim in circles or somehow get lost.

 

It was strange to be worried about that. All those years of being told to be careful, have safe sex, don’t get a disease or pregnant were out the window. At the time only a few of my friends had kids and none of them had any trouble getting pregnant.

 

In fact one of them is so fertile that her husband only has to think baby and she is instantly knocked up. It is kind of a neat trick, but not nearly as much fun as doing it the old fashioned way, but I digress.

 

The idea that one day some kid was going to call me dad was exciting and a little bit frightening. I had always wanted children, but it was surreal to think that I had actually reached the place where such things were possible. I wasn’t really afraid of being a bad father- wasn’t concerned with the state of the world. In my eyes it was as safe and as dangerous as it had ever been.

 

What I worried about was that the kids to be would be too much like me. Now before you accuse me of being some crazy narcissist understand that I was the kid who played stuntman. I pushed the limits and did some nutty stuff. It was fun to talk about. Great to tell stories about how my friends and I had done something incredible. The problem was that when I tried to look at it as a father might it made my head hurt.

 

And now years later it makes it spin. If my kids are as dumb as I was I am going to lose all of my hair and suffer a nervous breakdown. What the hell was wrong with me. I jumped off the roof into swimming pools, out ran the train in my Camaro and jumped over a few bonfires.

 

But that is part of the joy of being a parent. It is knowing that somehow in spite of all the crazy and stupid things you have done you made it to the other side.

 

Somehow you got through it all. You have lots of stories of good and bad experiences that you hope to share one day with those kids. Distilled wisdom that you offer free of charge because they are your children and you want them to avoid some of the pitfalls you had to deal with.

 

The thing is that it will take years before you really begin to find out if the lessons you have tried to pass along have had impact. Decades before you can really assess whether you did a good job in passing it along.

 

But the good news is that along the way you’ll have one hell of a good time.

 

All I know is that the past decade has been exceptionally hard and exceptionally rewarding. There have been days where I really have wanted to go back in time and tell that young fool to wear a condom. Really, he managed to avoid getting in trouble in spite of himself, couldn’t he have kept the streak going.

 

But then they do something, these children of mine. They see me crazed with anger and concern and give me a hug or a kiss. They draw pictures or tell me a story and in seconds I can’t remember being angry. It is good to be dad. It is good to be a father, even if it means paying for a private school that won’t let me retire until I am 235.

 

Yep, life is pretty good for this dad.

 

Do You Worry About Your Credibility

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I received an email earlier this evening that questioned my credibility. Or should I say that it chastised me for not being worried about my credibility as a writer. Being a sassy and insouciant sort of fellow I replied. If you are easily offended than you might not want to read my response. I’ll share a few thoughts about the topic below my reply

Dear Max,

Thank you for your concern and your desire to warn me about the dangers of not being credible. Since you claim to be about my age you probably remember that game they used to show on the television show we all watched as kids, One of these things doesn’t belong with the other. Let’s play now. I’ll provide a list of things that I have decided not to write about. Some of them won’t be true but at least one will.

Ready? Take a deep breath and let’s begin.

Thanks to you I have decided not to write about:

  • I dunked on Michael Jordan.
  • I once stole Castro’s cigar.
  • Your mother asked to see me naked.

Ok, which one of those wasn’t true? Not sure? No problem I am going to give you time to think about it by providing a list of three other things for your review:

  • I painted the Mona Lisa.
  • My real name is Dikembe Mutumbo.
  • I took a picture of you fellating a goat.

Did that help or should we come up with three more items for you to review? I opt for the latter so here are three more things for you to wonder about:

  • I worked as an agent in Hollywood and explained to Keanu Reeves, Kevin Costner and Matthew Perry that America is tired of them playing the same character in every movie. But I did that on behalf of the patron saint of limited acting ability, Nicholas Cage.
  • I am responsible for the cuyahoga river bursting into flames.
  • Your sister asked me for a three way with your mother.

Ok, that last one wasn’t true, it was your father who asked but he looks just like your sister and I am easily confused. Now before you freak out and huff your way into a terrible asthma attack allow me to explain a few things. I have never understood why some people think that the best way to affect change is by sending someone a very strongly worded email that suggests they are an idiot. Frankly I would have had more respect for you if you had just come out and called me one. For that matter you could have called me many names and I would have shrugged my shoulders and moved on, or maybe not.

You see I think that your email was linkbait. You hoped to start a flame war with me. You wanted me to link to your blog and write a post about how nasty you are. Now I could have done that but this is far more fun. Why? Because thanks to the magic of statcounter I know that you have camped out here all night long, watching and waiting for my response. So you got it but you aren’t going to get an traffic from me.

Although I am known to occasionally engage in juvenile antics I try not to be a blogger who bullies others. I don’t always succeed and I suppose that this crosses a line of sorts but I am ok with it. In fact if you hadn’t mentioned my children in your note I wouldn’t have taken the time to spit back at you but I am a little crazy about them. Talk about my kids in a way that doesn’t please me and you’ll get my attention but not the way that you want.

So little man now that I have climbed into the gutter with you make of this what you will.

Credibility is earned over time. You have to earn it. It is not bestowed upon you because you have a blog.  There are quite a few posts here that blur the lines between fiction and nonfiction. So what. Maybe you don’t like wondering what is real and what is not- go somewhere else. There are millions of blogs that you can read, you don’t have to hang out here.

I don’t claim to be an expert on parenting but if someone asks for my advice I give it. That doesn’t mean that it has to be accepted. I don’t promote myself as being Dr. Spock or any sort of doctor at all. I am a writer who has extensive experience in a number of areas. Take that for what it is worth.

I suppose that what I am really saying is that I am big on accountability. Storms follow where I walk. At times I am a muckwracker and troublemaker. I have been known to be my own worst critic and enemy. But I clean up my own messes. I don’t wear a sweater because someone else is cold. Nor do I believe everything I read. Where and when appropriate I check facts. I am a curious fellow. I go looking for information about things I wonder about. Maybe it is about ways to improve your marriage immediately or How Much It Would Cost to Make The Death Star.

I believe that communities form around bloggers who are honest and authentic. My community is filled with smart people. They know how to Google information. They know how to research facts. They know that when I try to scam the scammers I don’t expect to be given a million dollars for my efforts.

More importantly they have figured out that courtesy goes a long way.  They have enough common sense to communicate with myself and others in a way that allows for open dialogue. I don’t need for everyone to agree with me. I would be bored silly if they did.

Sometimes I love the internet and its ability to expose us to so many different people. They are ever so interesting.

And now back to your regularly scheduled programming.

Yeoman Smith The Human Sacrifice

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Author’s Notes:  One of these days I am going to write a story that uses Mansions of the Lord as part of the Soundtrack. This music is raw and powerful. The version I am listening to can be found in the video below this line.

The lyrics are as follows:

“The Mansions of the Lord”
Words by Randall Wallace

To fallen soldiers let us sing
where no rockets fly nor bullets wing
Our broken brothers let us bring
to the mansions of the Lord

No more bleeding no more fight
No prayers pleading through the night
just divine embrace, eternal light
in the mansions of the Lord

Where no mothers cry and no children weep
We will stand and guard tho the angels sleep
All through the ages safely keep the mansions of the Lord

(excerpt from “Sgt. MacKenzie” by Joseph Kilna MacKenzie)

 

Lay me doon in the caul caul groon
Whaur afore monie mair huv gaun
Lay me doon in the caul caul groon
Whaur afore monie mair huv gaun Ains a year say a prayer faur me
Close yir een an remember me
 Lay me down in the cold cold ground
Where before many more have gone
Lay me down in the cold cold ground
Where before many more have goneOnce a year say a prayer for me
Close your eyes and remember me

If Captain Kirk were narrating this piece it would be Stardate 3.14 and the Enterprise would be exploring the Euclidean Black Hole on the edge of the PI Universe. Some unnatural anomaly on a nearby planet would catch Kirk’s eye and he would assemble a landing party to go investigate.  The party would be made up of the usual suspects, Kirk, Spock, McCoy and Yeoman Smith the human sacrifice. Good old Yeoman Smith would die some horrible death on the planet. Unfortunately for Yeoman Smith his death wouldn’t be one that saved the others.

There wouldn’t be any honor in it. He wouldn’t go to his space grave knowing that he died to save the rest of the crew. Nope, that last fleeting vision would be of Kirk getting a good shellacking by some unusually hot and attractive alien. Always good to know that while you are dying in horrible agony the guy next to you is playing hide the salami with the queen of the creatures that created your current unfortunately unsolvable conundrum. The good news is that you didn’t really die because you are an actor and Yeoman Smith is just one of many roles that you have played during your life.

One would hope that you are not bitter that even though you are a master thespian with experience on Broadway and on the London Theater circuit. No, need to be bitter that some guy with far less talent and a lot more luck just happened to nail a part that led to a career of notoriety and fortune. Now you are just a footnote in a few databases and your former colleague is starring in a show spawned by the recollection of a man’s rantings on a social media network. Yep, he got more work based upon something that birds do…Tweeting.

Not to mention that he has parlayed his overacting into any number of other goofy roles including more than a few where he played a caricature of himself. Really, you don’t mean to focus on things you have no control over. You don’t wish to be bitter about the past, but for heaven’s sake he is the personification of  As You Like It:

All the world’s a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts,

It is growing harder to be reasonable

It has been a long week for me. For reason great and small I have found it to be tough to get through and upon more than one occasion screamed at the universe. It is not my normal behavior to scream at the universe, but my patience has been tested in more ways than I care to think about. I would gladly characterize this week as having been…brutal. I suppose that the easiest summation of why is to say that it felt like everything I did was twice as hard as it needed to be. Countless hours were spent working on tasks that never should have come up. Instead of  taking care of the things that I had planned on I found myself fighting through the unexpected crap that we call life.  And for good measure my new phone (the DroidX) died two days after I received it.

So here I am, staring at the tail end of Friday afternoon and doing my best to unwind, decompress and relax. It is time to let go of the worries of the week and focus on family time. Besides this time next week I’ll be hanging out with a bunch of others in The Emerald City. So I suppose that sometime over the weekend it will be time to make sure that Traveling Jack has the proper gear and clothes for his trip.

Ok my friends, this post has been a bit strange. I’ll take responsibility for that and attribute it to having started and stopped writing it 17 times.  No surprises there, the theme of this week has been let’s make everything harder than normal. So I am going to sign off for now, but I expect to be back later. I want to work on a couple of storylines and there is no better way to do that than by writing. See you around.

Besides, I need to end the week with a post that makes more sense than some wacky ramblings about Yeoman Smith.