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 June 2011

Too Proud To Ask For Help

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Worried!
Worried! (Photo credit: photoloni)

Thirteen years ago I helped bury a very dear friend. That is not a euphemism for anything or my trying to come up with some sort of cute remark. It is a terrible, horrific memory that is burned upon my heart. We who loved him dearly took the shovels in our hands and piled the dirt on top of his casket. Under a crystal blue sky we cried and piled the dirt on him and tried to understand why a 29 year-old man had died. For some of you this is not a new story. I have blogged about this many times because it made that sort of impact upon me.

Because when you make eye contact with a mother who is watching you bury her son you don’t know what to do. You don’t know whether to look away, cry, scream, smile or keep shoveling. So for a moment you freeze and realize that you won’t ever forget the look on her face. And even though you know it is not your fault, it hurts knowing that she is watching you bury her child.

I am not sure what triggered that memory. It might be because I found out a friend’s breast cancer has come back with a vengeance. It might be because my understanding is that statistically she faces very dire odds. Or perhaps it is because I found out today that several friends are walking away from their homes and I find myself overflowing with what can only be described as rage.

These are not people who over extended themselves with crazy loans that they took out to buy palatial estates that they otherwise couldn’t have afforded. These are college educated productive members of society. These are people who have always worked and have paid their taxes. These are mothers and fathers who lost their jobs during the worst economy that we have seen in decades. Moms and dads who have fought to get employment elsewhere. Parents who have begged for positions at retail stores and often been turned down for being over qualified.

So they went to the banks and explained that they were interested in receiving a loan modification. They provided documentation of their hardship and told the banks that they weren’t looking for a handout. They didn’t ask for a reduction in principal. All they wanted was to have the monthly payment lowered so that they could keep their homes. It wasn’t a ridiculous request. The Federal Government had bailed out the banks. They had determined that if the banks failed it would have dire consequences. So they gave them money to use to recover.

They gave them tax dollars and instructed them to help homeowners retain their homes. And instead the banks said fuck you to the homeowners and created an incredible mess of paperwork and bureaucracy to navigate. Even though they were given money to cover this. Even though they were helped out of their own dire straits they refused to help people who needed it.

So now moms and dads are explaining to their children that they have to move somewhere else. But the thing is that not everyone has resources to draw upon. Some of these people are leaving their homes to go live in hovels or cars. Some of them have begun the process of trying to qualify for welfare and food stamps.

I have a sneaking suspicion that one of my friends is on that path and they are too proud to ask for help. I know some of his story and I understand much of his frustration. As men we are raised and socialized to provide for our families. As men we are taught that a man who cannot do so is less than a man. It is soul crushing. So I am searching for a way to find out what his situation is. I want to help him. I want to find a way to try and give him a hand up and not a hand out because he wouldn’t have it any other way.

But I wonder and I worry. I listen to conversations and watch the news. I hear the comments from those who think that anyone who is in this kind of financial trouble is there because of their own mistakes. I listen to the things that are left unsaid by friends and I see gaps that make me wonder. And I worry that we are about to see something far worse coming. I don’t say this to sell fear but because when you know as many people as I do who are struggling to find work it is a real concern.

Because it is more than just families losing their homes. It is creating an enormous strain on relationships and I wonder how many divorces are going come from this. I wonder how many couples will find themselves unable to overcome the strain and wonder how all these different things will impact the children.

And as I wonder I look at Bank of America, Wells Fargo and their fellows and wonder why they can’t understand that in the midst of making a profit it is ok to help people. My guess is that no one with any real power cares about this or if they do they don’t spend much time worrying about it because they don’t understand hunger and fear. Maybe I am wrong, but I doubt it.

All I know is that I have had too many conversations with these friends about how rough it is. I am ready to hear better stories. Life isn’t fair and it never will be, but every now and then it is nice to get a break.

What Makes a Blog Successful?

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SEX SELLS (Girls just wanna have fun)

What Makes a Blog Successful?

I have an ongoing discussion/debate with one of my clients about the most elements of a successful blog. It is a simple question or whether it is more important for a successful blog to have a very active comment section or a large number of readers.

I like this sort of question because it is the kind of thing in which the answer is tied into what sort of blogger you are and what sort of goals you have for your blog. Now that might sound to be synonymous with obvious but it really isn’t.

Because the reality is that the goals of a personal blog are often quite different from the goals of a corporate blog. I know of a number of businesses that have blogs because they feel like they have to and not because they want to. They don’t like comments because they see that as being a risk and a lot of extra work. In their eyes it is a liability that they would rather not deal with.

And then you have a ton of personal bloggers who are dying for hordes of commenters and readers. They would be thrilled to see millions of people come to their corners of cyberspace and camp out. They dream of posts that generate hundreds of comments.

The bottom line is that like far too many other things in life the answer to the question is highly subjective. But I don’t get paid to shrug my shoulders and extend my palms towards the sky. So when you ask me for my opinion I am going to say that if I had to choose I’d take a blog that had exceptionally high traffic and relatively few comments.

It is always easier to build an active group of commenters from a larger population than from a smaller group.

But enough of my thoughts. What do you think defines a successful blog? If you had to choose between having a lot of readers and few commenters or the reverse what would you pick?

Let me know, I am curious to hear your thoughts.

The Cure For Insomnia

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Updated 9/1/2011

Welcome new readers to my corner of cyberspace. I am Jack and I am happy to see you here. The post below contains a link to a contest that has already ended. Periodically there are other contests and giveaways here but that is not my focus. You can learn more about me here or by clicking around the site. If you like what you see I encourage you to fan me on Facebook, follow me on Twitter and or subscribe to my feed. That’s enough self promotion. I hope you stick around and look forward to hanging out with you here.

Somewhere around midnight or a little thereafter I send a tweet out that says “Good Evening Twitter Vampires.”  Most of the time I receive a handful of responses from people across the globe. I am old enough to remember when it cost serious money to make long distance telephone calls, let alone talk to someone overseas. Yet most nights I finish up my evening with a short chat with people in Australia, England and Israel. Not to mention the few on the East Coast who are just waking up and those on the West who like me are burning the candle at both ends.

Last week someone asked me why I keep the hours that I do. They wanted to know if I was up because of work or if I suffer from insomnia. The answer is that there have been a number of times where work responsibilities have required me to adjust my hours. Most of the time that is because I have an early morning conference call to attend. Did I mention that those are usually 8 AM EST, or 5 AM my time. Good times I tell you.

But I wouldn’t suggest that I am up at odd hours because of insomnia either. I tend not to need as much sleep as other people or maybe I have just trained myself to stay awake. It is hard to say. What I do know for certain is that I am a natural night owl. I like those late hours. There is something magical after midnight. During my college days I was one of the first people to hear about bad breakups. Not because I was a trained therapist but my friends knew that it was generally safe to call me at 3 am.

Those days are long ago and now that I have become Superdad I have children who think that if the sun is up it is time for all to be awake. Consequently I have tried to adjust my hours somewhat. Even though I don’t need a lot of sleep I can’t live on 4 hours for months at a time anymore. Add a big heaping dose of stress and my sleep has been a bit more strained than normal. I have had nightmares about waking up in cleveland or being forced to move into an igloo in Buffalo.

Fortunately neither has happened and if I have anything to say about it neither will.  Still, I have found my sleep to be less satisfactory than usual and had been wondering what I could do about it.

The Universe Taps Me On The Shoulder

I am beginning to wonder if perhaps there is reason for me to take the idea of signs more seriously. Not stop signs, but those little moments when the universe taps you on the shoulder. The reason being that I was contacted by the fine folks at Sleep Number and asked if I wanted to help them out. The deal was that I would get to create my own custom sleep number pillow to review and that as a bonus I could give one away to one of my lucky readers.

I said yes and selected the Memory Foam outer comfort with the memory foam contour inner support and the in balance protector. (Dear FTC, the previous paragraph is what we call disclosure.

My pillow came last week and I am have been very pleased with it. The obvious question is have I slept better than I did with my old pillow. The answer is yes. I have been trying to figure out if the pillow is the reason or if it has been more of a placebo effect. I am not sure how to answer that question. I truly like the pillow and find it to be quite comfortable so I think that it has to be part of it. If nothing else I am confident in recommending that you enter the giveaway and try to win one for yourself. I don’t think that you can go wrong with it.

Here is what you need to do. Click on this link and enter all of the information. Please be certain to fill in the referring blog info too. It is that easy, so much so that I’ll even give you the link one more time.

P.S. As I was writing this post I received word that a big deal that I had been working on has come through. Is the universe sending me signs, tapping me on the shoulder or just giving me a well-deserved break? I don’t know. But I do know that I am looking forward to enjoying a little shut eye on my new pillow.

Dancing Didn’t Make Him Charming

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This is based upon the following prompt from The Red Dress Club
This week we asked you to write a prompt inspired by this sentence: The first time I ________-ed after _________-ing.

You won’t ever mistake me for Baryshnikov. Grace and I are distant cousins who get along on a basic level, but can’t seem to get beyond that. I didn’t want to go to the bar because I don’t dance. That is not entirely true- I am comfortable slow dancing.”

Got enough grace and rhythm not to step on her feet but speed it up and I worry about looking like I am having a seizure. Given the choice I wouldn’t have gone tonight, but the girls have pushed me.

The two of them swear that I won’t be uncomfortable and that I’ll have a good time. When I try to back out they tell me that I have a better chance of meeting someone. They claim that women will be attracted to a man who is with two women.

I tell them that the three of us should stay in and see what happens. Lisa hits me in the head with a pillow and Julie slugs me in the arm. I shrug my shoulders and say that I guess I am going.

They have already picked out my outfit- a pair of black Justin cowboy boots, 501s and a green t-shirt are what I am supposed to wear. I roll my eyes at them and say that this is what I would have chosen anyway.

It is not an exaggeration. I really would have picked those things, but they insist on having final say and I just don’t care so I let them.

Just before we leave they give me specific instructions on what to do when men approach. Lisa tells me that I am not paying attention and I tell her she is right. I don’t need a playbook. I have a million sisters and know exactly what to do.

Apparently that is what makes them nervous. Lisa says that I am not to get too aggressive and Julie nods her head. I tell them that I don’t know what the hell that means and get yelled at. They tell me that the last time we did this I picked a fight with two of the guys buying them drinks. This time I am supposed to look for a sign.

I tell Lisa that if she holds up two fingers I’ll steal home and if Julie holds up one I’ll swing away. Neither of them smiles and I know that I am one ute boy away from irritating them. But I have given my word to go so we head out.

Two or three beers after our arrival the girls decide that I cannot people watch any longer. They tell me that I’m required to dance. It is the height of the line dancing craze & I tell them that I am unwilling to do it.

They say no problem and tell me that I am going to learn how to two-step. They give me a quick demo and then take positions in front of and behind me. Between shoulder and hand squeezes I figure out what to do and when.

I feel a bit like a kid who just learned how to ride a bike and I dance with them and a dozen other women. It is a blast.

Later on I’ll ask them to help me meet someone and find out that sometimes hitting a bar with two women isn’t always a great way to meet other women.

It seems that this configuration has given them the impression that I am gay. And here I thought that being able to two step made me charming…..

If you are interested in reading past posts try one of these:

A Life Worth Living

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“I haven’t any right to criticize books, and I don’t do it except when I hate them. I often want to criticize Jane Austen, but her books madden me so that I can’t conceal my frenzy from the reader; and therefore I have to stop every time I begin. Every time I read ‘Pride and Prejudice,’ I want to dig her up and hit her over the skull with her own shin-bone.” Mark Twain on Jane Austen

I have a list of people that  I should like to smack with their own shin-bones. Although if I was given the option I would probably choose a large bone, like the femur.  I would say that Twain was a kinder, gentler soul than I but he is responsible for the whole shin-bone to the cranium idea. All I did was refine it. Really, if you are going to go to the trouble of hitting someone you ought to do a proper job of it.

It reminds me of a time in college when I told the guy sitting next to me that his hand smelled like peanut butter. He said really and then when he placed it close to his nose I gave it a “gentle” push. As you might imagine he wasn’t pleased with being smacked in the nose, especially with his own hand. Some might say that there is never an excuse for violence, but I had suggested that he not try to annoy me. What can I tell you, I am 230 pounds of five-year-old.

I just let everyone on Twitter know that my session at BlogHer is going to be standing room only. My recommendation is to bring comfortable shoes. Since I am also known as a master of nonsense I should let you know that I told a spammer to stop writing me or I would scoop out their eyes with a butter knife, because eyeballs are a delicacy in my country.

Have you noticed that sometimes I need to get a running start before I start addressing the topic of a post. Some of you have said that you are annoyed by this. I find comments like that to be somewhat amusing, but not as amusing as the people who tell me that they have unblogrolled me. When I get messages like that I ‘tut tut’ them and tell them that is so 2006.

The Lonely Blogger

I want to live a life that is worth living. That is not to say or suggest that I am not because I am. In fact I just finished speaking with a friend who almost died a few years back. They have a terminal illness and have had to confront the idea of dying prematurely. We spent a few minutes talking about what is going on with them and what is happening with me. I related in some detail the things that I hinted at in the prior post and was told that I have quite a handful. I of course said thank you and then asked if someone had taken pictures of me in the locker room.

There was much laughter and then they suggested that I find some new material. I said that they were right and remarked that when the almost dead person says “that sucks” you might want to take a hard look at your situation because it probably does suck. There was more laughter and guffawing over our juvenile and morbid sense of humor but it was good. It was good because we both needed to laugh and because we can only be solemn and serious for so long. Our time was limited but we did touch upon working hard to identify what makes us happy and what makes us feel fulfilled.

These are serious questions that I have spent more than a few minutes thinking about. It is not my intention, goal or desire to remain mired in muck and misery so I am actively working to correct that. Some might call it a sea change but I prefer to think of it as “getting the fuck out of Dodge.” There is a part of me that is preparing for the major changes that are to come and that means accepting failure. It means letting go of things that no longer work or bring the sort of joy that I need. I kid around a lot about being an old man but I don’t see myself that way.

When I look in the mirror that face and body don’t match my mental image and that is ok. It is ok because I can adjust both. It is ok because I know that I have the will to make the necessary changes and that is important. It is important because there have been moments where my confidence in my own abilities have been shaken. But a person who doesn’t believe in themselves has to work much harder than the one who does. So this post is part of the reminder to myself that I need to believe. I need to have faith that I can walk through the fire and emerge on the other side.

There is a long list of accomplishments that I can be proud of and more to come. I’ll save some of that for later. Right now I have to figure out who needs to be smacked across the skull with their own femur.

Your Attention Please

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in the wild nowFather’s Day was a mix of awful distilled with some spots of amazing. It was easily among the worst that I have experienced. I tried to figure out if it was worse than the one that surrounded this time of my life but I am not sure. It is too hard to compare those moments. Both of them have been exceptionally challenging but for very different reasons.

I think that the main difference is that last time I was really concerned about my father dying and this time I am just really….angry. I keep referring to this anger and touching upon it with cryptic commentary but I never quite spell it out. I have been trying to figure that out too. Been trying to figure out why I am willing to almost say what it is but not quite. It is not because writing it down will make it any more real to me. I am not in denial- I am fully aware of what is going on. That is part of why I am so very angry.

Maybe it is because I am fighting not to focus upon it. Maybe it is because I am tired of the sound of my own voice and done with being angry. Well, that would work…except I am still angry. And that anger has made me impatient and intolerant of many things which is part of why today was such a pain in my ass. I am still not quite ready to share all that is happening so I am going to shift gears and share some other thoughts with you.

I keep listening to this song. My taste in music is pretty broad but I wouldn’t say that Eminem is among my favorites. Spent a lot of time listening to Social Distortion too.

Songs like I Was Wrong and 99 to Life have been regulars on my playlist. Not to mention Goodbye by Emmylou Harris, Dylan singing Forever Young and What Is and What Should Never Be by Led Zeppelin. There are lots of others but I think that you get the idea, more or less.

Sometimes I grow quite tired with all of the posts about how to become a better blogger, especially by those who have barely been blogging. Is it my place to tell you that you don’t know what you are talking about and that you are second rate hacks preying upon low hanging fruit. Probably not. Probably not fair of me to do so, not when I write that there are multiple ways to be successful in blogging. Not when I write my own share of posts that provide tips for becoming a better blogger. But than again who says that I can’t complain about those posts in which people list 5 things that people can do to become better bloggers.

Really, who says that I shouldn’t ask them to try to come up with something new. Who says that I shouldn’t point out that they would be better served coming up with an angle that others haven’t already written about. Is it wrong of me to ask some of them to consider using a formula like Feature/Function/Benefit to help illustrate their points.

Or more importantly am I wrong to remind them a well written post has a beginning, middle and end. After all I am guilty of bad blogging too.

Father’s Day was hard for a variety of reasons. One was that I felt badly for my kids. They made breakfast in bed for me and worked hard to try to spoil me and I was/am appreciative of it. But some of this outside crap crept in and  I had a hard time separating from it so I barked at them a few times a little bit more harshly and loudly than they deserved.  But I suppose that some of this is to be expected because transitions are often rough- even when you try to make them smooth. They are rough because it is easy to be anxious about change.

More on this to come later. It has grown quite late and the bed calls out to me. Coming soon is a big giveaway for  a Select Comfort pillow, posts about parenting, more great cover letters and a list of reasons why you can’t stop reading this blog. Night all, see you in about four hours.