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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

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Archives for February 2012

The Universe Taps You On The Shoulder…Again

February 6, 2012 by Jack Steiner 8 Comments

Star Walkers

Johnny sat on his couch, a bottle of Fat Weasel Pale Ale in hand and a goofy grin on his face. For more than a while he had this feeling that someone was trying to send him a message, but he was never clear about what it was or what he was supposed to do about it. He was a man who liked to base his beliefs upon science and the tangible, or so he would tell you.

But sometimes in the quiet of the night he would stare up at the moon and feel like there was something more than science out there. He’d lie on his back and look for shooting stars and just open himself up to the possibility that maybe the universe did send you messages.

It wasn’t always easy for him. He was a skeptic who sometimes straddled his disbelief by silently reviewing the reasons why something or someone wasn’t really meant to be. It wasn’t hard to poke holes in these dreams.

If you would have asked him he would tell you that it was easy for con artists to take your money. The old gypsy woman who sold Love Potion Number 9, the psychic and mediums who told your fortune knew that most people visited them because they wanted help with their love life or finances. All you had to do was give people an opening and they would practically write the story for you.

And yet he had experienced things that made him wonder if perhaps he was wrong. There were moments in which those signs were as clear as a grapevine or that yellow rose of Texas. He took a swig of the Fat Weasel and sung softly, “The stars at night, Are big and bright, Deep in the heart of Texas…” He wasn’t so sure what made him think of Texas, but in an odd, convoluted way it sort of fit. The song did talk about stars and he did like to spend time staring up at them.

He had told June more than once that if she wanted the moon he would find a way to get it for her. He smiled again and muttered something about not knowing who was crazier, him or June.

It felt like forever since he had spoken with June and had you talked to him a week or two earlier he would have told you that he was done. He was tired of it all, worn out, exhausted and ready to say that it was fun while it lasted.

These weren’t just words to him.

He meant what he said and he had intended to do what he had to do to walk. So he drew a mental picture in his head of himself standing in a room and then pictured himself turning out the lights, pulling the shades and walking out the door.

That mental picture wasn’t easy to come up with, but it seemed to be the right thing so it was what he did. And with a simple click he locked the door and took the first steps to an unknown future. At least that was what he had intended to do but life has a funny way of taking your intentions and turning them inside out or upside down. If life were made by Hollywood the scene would have been easy to script.

All that he described would be performed by skilled actors who would make it clear that this wasn’t a part of some formulaic romance. It was real and it was true. And just when the audience bought into the story something would happen that would lead the two of them back into each others arms.

But it wasn’t Hollywood- it was life and sometimes the hero stumbles or the villain gets the girl. And Johnny, our closet skeptic wasn’t willing to open himself up to the possibility that some of this was part of some larger master plan.

Sure, he wanted to believe that there was something more but it really didn’t make sense so he didn’t bother to consider it as even being an option. At least that is how it started and maybe if were a different person that is how it would have stayed. But things happened, weird moments that he couldn’t explain as being anything other than signs that maybe someone or something was trying to speak to him.

At least that is what he was beginning to think. Still it wasn’t a comfortable thought so he fought it down and read the newspaper. And just when he had pushed it out of his head he heard the opening to Helter Skelter.

“When I get to the bottom
I go back to the top of the slide
Where I stop and turn
and I go for a ride
Till I get to the bottom and I see you again
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Do you don’t you want me to love you
I’m coming down fast but I’m miles above you
Tell me tell me come on tell me the answer
and you may be a lover but you ain’t no dancer”

He smiled and shook his head again. He didn’t know if the universe was tapping him on the shoulder but he couldn’t shake the feeling that somewhere out there June was silently asking him to call. It would be fitting, damn woman used to tease him that she only let him think that he was in control when in reality she was. So he sent out a silent message in response where he told her that he heard her calling and that if she wanted to talk her damn fingers weren’t broken. Dial the damn phone woman and I’ll talk to you.

With a snort and a smirk he finished his drink and wondered if the universe worked that way. He figured that if there was anything to it he would find out, because if the universe really does speak to you, well he is listening or it seemed.

Words in a Journal

It is no secret that I have spent more than a few minutes thinking about you, wondering what you are doing and who you are doing it with. If I listened to the experts you’d never hear a word from me or about me. I’d be nothing more than a ghost in time, a memory of someone you once knew.

And if my past was any guide than that is how it would have gone down. We would have said whatever it is two people say to each other before they leave and then I would have walked out of your life and found whatever was waiting for me. That is how it had always gone before so it was more than a little shocking to me that it didn’t happen now.

But who am I kidding, this thing we share has never been conventional, ordinary or normal. It has always been something….more. A moment in time that never yellows with age or withers with time. I don’t have to close my eyes to see my girl or stare at your picture. I don’t have to smell your perfume to remember because I always sense your presence. You are always with me, the song of my heart.

The song of my heart you touch those places inside that others are refused entry to. Your smile warms my soul and makes me believe that I can do things that I might not otherwise dare to consider. There is a beauty and grace that you carry with you.

So I suppose that some people would be surprised that we are not together. Shocked that so much love and potential would remain unfulfilled. Dumbfounded that circumstances conspired to prevent us from taking that next step into the world that we still dream of building. Heck, I can’t quite figure out how it is that we haven’t figured out how to bridge the gap.

Faith and hope are what carry me through the night. Little glimpses of things we hold dear to ourselves and to each other serve as reminders. Memories of kisses that made my skin tingle and the ache of the hole that exists when you are not by my side. These things are with me for good or for worse.

Goofy quotes like the one  from A Wonderful Life make me smile.

George Bailey: What is it you want, Mary? What do you want? You want the moon? Just say the word and I’ll throw a lasso around it and pull it down. Hey. That’s a pretty good idea. I’ll give you the moon, Mary.
Mary: I’ll take it. Then what?
George Bailey: Well, then you can swallow it, and it’ll all dissolve, see… and the moonbeams would shoot out of your fingers and your toes and the ends of your hair… am I talking too much?

They make me smile because you make me want to try to give you the moon. They make me smile because I try to be cool and suave around you and end up babbling like a fool. Even now years later you sometimes make me stutter and stumble.

Little moments in time surround me. Memories of what was, faith and hope in what could be, they are there too. For now that is all there is and there are no guarantees that it will change. There is no Love Potion number 9 available for sale and even if there were I wouldn’t purchase it. That is not how I want it to be.

For now I hope that you walk in the arms of the angel and carry my blessing and promise. If all goes as we wish then one day this will be nothing more than a small chapter in the story we continue to write. Stay safe, be strong and I will see you in the echoes of our future.

Filed Under: Fragments of Fiction

Three Things You Can Do To Improve Your Writing

February 5, 2012 by Jack Steiner 2 Comments

listen to ‘Three Things You Can Do To Improve Your Writing’ on Audioboo

Filed Under: Uncategorized

Daddy/Daughter Day

February 5, 2012 by Jack Steiner 10 Comments

There are more than a few moments when being the father of a daughter smacks me in the face in ways that remind me that life is a series of contradictions, conundrums, conflicts and chaos. The video above is the perfect example, but we’ll touch upon that in a moment.

A short while ago my daughter told me that it was time for daddy/daughter day and instructed me to find something for just the two of us to do together. I told her that I couldn’t wait and she jumped into my arms, kissed me on the cheek and gave me one hell of a hug. It is not like I hadn’t said yes or wouldn’t have but when she does that sort of thing I have to make sure I don’t offer her my wallet.

She knows that she is daddy’s girl and I am a big sucker for her. It also explains why every time she wants an American Girl doll she comes looking for me and not her mother. Sucker or not I still haven’t given her the doll. I can’t bring myself to spend that kind of cash on a doll, but it hasn’t stopped her from asking.

Anyhoo I went looking for a special activity for us to do together and was pleased to find a cooking class for us to take.  We both like cooking and I thought that it would be a lot of fun so I signed us up to do it with a friend and marked the day on the calendar.

Time passes and the morning of the class arrives. We are both excited and just before we are ready to leave I look at the clock and realize that if there is traffic we might be a few minutes late. No problem, I send a text to my friend to ask her to save a space for us and she writes back, “it is next week.”

“Doh!”

I don’t normally make mistakes like that and I double check the paperwork. Yep, I blew it. So now I wander over to my daughter to tell her that the class is actually next week. She smiles at me and tells me to get the keys so we won’t be late.

“Daddy! What do you mean it is next week?”

Yep, I got that look. So I told her I was sorry and asked if we could go outside to take a picture. After all she had made a point of putting her favorite ribbon in her hair and had picked out a special outfit. So we took the picture and then she gave me a big hug, told me it was ok and then asked me to fix my calendar. We both laughed. I felt badly about it, but if this is the worst thing we have to deal with than life is easy.

The Telephone Call

It is 3 PM on the day that was Daddy/daughter day. I am in the middle of a telephone call with an old friend. It has been months since our last conversation and Doug is filling me in about his life. He is single and has never been married. He tells me that he is driving down Sunset and wants to know if I ever think about those nights.

He doesn’t have to say more than that for me to know what he is talking about. I remember.

Girls with big hair, red lipstick and short skirts. Long haired guys, leather pants and the hair metal scene. He teases me about being the only guy on the strip who didn’t have long hair. That is not true, I wasn’t the only guy but I know what he is talking about.

The Jewfro wouldn’t grow out so I wore a flat top. During the first Gulf War it made some people ask if I was in the service. Actually it was probably the combination of the green t-shirt and Levis, but I digress.

He gets lost in reminiscing and asks me if I remember the night I had to drive him home. I tell him yes. It wasn’t just him. I drove him and two girls back to his apartment.  It is like a scene from bad movie.

I am in the front seat with some girl I really don’t know at all. She and I are trying to ignore what is happening behind us. That is because Doug and his “date” are doing things that would make adult film stars blush.

The Daughter

Doug tells me that he just hooked up with her again. I tell him that I am confused and he says that the woman from that evening has been spending time with him. I guess I forgot that he kept in touch with her. He follows up by telling me that she was a dancer at one of the clubs and that she can do things with her body that are amazing, at least I think it was something like that.

I am not really sure because midway through this my daughter walks into the room and sits on my lap. She has a book in her hand and she is reading it.

And now I feel a desperate urge to get off the phone. I can’t listen to this. I can’t have him tell me anything sexual when I have this sweet girl sitting on my lap.

Somewhere in the background I can hear my father telling me to remember that every girl I take out is someone’s sister or daughter and I need to show them respect. I tell Doug that I have to go and I hang up. I remember that conversation with my dad. I was about 16 or 17. I remember him telling me to remember that some guy was looking at my sister and thinking the same thing that I was about girls.

Dad was right.

As soon as I hung up my daughter looked up at me and smiled. I smiled back and gave her a big hug. And then I told her that I was proud of her and that I think she is really smart.

I know that I can’t protect her from everything and everyone but dammit, I can try and make sure that she doesn’t need a boy to make her feel good about herself.

Life is funny sometimes.

Filed Under: Children

The Not So Humble Blogger- Recent Posts

February 3, 2012 by Jack Steiner 9 Comments

listen to ‘The Not So Humble Blogger- Recent Posts’ on Audioboo


As promised here are links to recent posts. Stay tuned and I promise to share something more substantive with you real soon.

  • I Can Teach You How To Write More Interesting Posts
  • How An Ugly Toe Turned Into A Great Opportunity
  • Blogging Should Be Like Great Sex- Fun!
  • Does Your Blog Need A Logo?
  • What Is A Person Worth.
  • When Bloggers Sing- Technical Difficulties Edition
  • The Best Way To Blog Is…Your Way
  • This Was Our Song
  • Pray For Him

Filed Under: Uncategorized

I Can Teach You How To Write More Interesting Posts

February 2, 2012 by Jack Steiner 23 Comments

I publish more content than most people. Part of that is because blogging is how I prepare for work. It is like priming the pump or stretching before a game.

This story that I am working on is a hell of a lot of fun but part of that is because it is different. I find it stimulating in a different way than some of the other things I do.

If you want to be a good writer you need to practice writing and you need to stimulate your mind. Ask questions. Write down the answers. Think about how things work and find a way to look at the world with wonder.


Writing Tools

A while back one of my 14k sisters asked me if I could help her put together a desk, a bookcase and some chairs that she had purchased. I have done that sort of thing a million times so I said yes and told her that my services were available for the very affordable cost of a coke and two slices of pizza.

When I opened up the box for the desk we found approximately 1,983,743 parts and an instruction manual that consisted of 18 pictures.  Now I could tell you a story that would make you laugh but I want to go a different way.

When I looked at the various parts I began to wonder where the manufacturer of that unit acquired all of the parts. I looked at the pieces and wondered how many different people were involved in getting it all together. Think about this for a moment.

  1. Someone had find the packaging for the unit.
  2. Someone had to design the artwork that went on the outside of the box.
  3. Someone had to find and purchase the wood that was used.
  4. Someone had to find and purchase the other parts.
  5. A machinist(s) were used to shape and form many of the pieces.
  6. A technical writer was involved in building the manual.
  7. Someone had to see that the manual was translated into multiple languages.

What Is The Point?

The point is that in less than 2 minutes I came up with seven questions about a desk. Every one of those questions offers an opportunity to tell a story. If I wanted to I could have come up with another 7 or another 50 questions. But the seven I asked are enough to provide a framework for a story that people would be interested in.

It is the tale of that desk is the culmination of the work of hundreds and perhaps thousands of people. Who are these people? Where do they live and what do they do? Surely there are some very interesting tales to be told about that.

The point is that when we open our eyes and look around there are a million different stories just waiting to be told. All we have to do is open our eyes and remember being children.

Start Asking Why

Children are famous for asking WHY and adults should be too. It is even more important for writers to ask WHY. Your readers have questions. Ask WHY and you can answer those questions. Answer those questions and you add value. Answer those questions and you will entertain them.

Do yourself a favor and search for answers to your questions and then share it on your blog. You’ll learn something in the process and because you are already interested in the topic your post will have more energy and excitement.

Time

It took me exactly seven minutes to write this post. There is no doubt that it could be better. I could rewrite it and make it stronger but that would defeat the purpose. I wrote it because I have a paid assignment that I need to move to.

This post was a warm up for me. It was me stretching before the big game. It was a simple way to get the juices flowing and the thoughts thinking.

Writing is something that you can improve with practice. Write often and good things happen. Ask questions and share the answers. But most of all have fun with it. Blogging shouldn’t be a task and if it is you need to reconsider why you are still doing it.

See you all in a bit, work calls……….

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Filed Under: Writing

How An Ugly Toe Turned Into A Great Opportunity

February 2, 2012 by Jack Steiner 8 Comments

“I was seldom able to see an opportunity until it had ceased to be one.”
– Mark Twain’s Autobiography

Sunday afternoon I got out of bed and my legs gave out from under me. It was mutiny most foul and I haven’t a clue why it happened. What I do know is that I tried to catch myself and failed to do so. These arms have ample strength in them and could easily have held me up but there was nothing to grab or hold onto.

My attempt to defeat gravity by levitation and flight also met with defeat and as a consequence I bent my left pinky toe backwards. It is now swollen and looks a bit purplish. That is  a fine color for an eggplant but not so attractive for a toe.

I took my legs to task and threatened them with swift and severe retribution for said mutiny but they simply laughed at me. Collective punishment is all they said and I had to nod my head and curse. What can I do to them that won’t hurt the rest of me. I can’t talk to my children about being smart and do something so foolish. Can’t tell them that one should never cut his nose to spite his face.

Actually I can. Actually I can tell them to do as I say and not as I do.

Recognize Opportunity

I shared the story of the lower body mutiny because it is an example of how sometimes we don’t see things coming and that sometimes our best effort isn’t good enough to prevent bad things from happening.

My children are still angry about moving and have asked me to buy back our old home. I told them it wasn’t going to happen. I said I was sorry that they were upset and asked them to trust my judgment. We moved because of missed opportunities and because of future opportunities.

They don’t need the specific details or the how and why. It wouldn’t make them feel better nor would it make it easier for me. I won’t tell them about my frustration and anger. I won’t say that I feel like I blew it in a couple of areas.

On the other hand I can look at this truly ugly toe and be reminded that I made choices and did things that I thought were smart. Yet we got smacked in the face by the same economic tsunami that hit many others. It was unavoidable. I could have chosen to try to fight through the storm but the thing about a tsunami is that it is a unfeeling juggernaut of exceptional power.

So instead of trying to build a wall that would withstand the raw power and fury that I saw coming I built a surfboard, grabbed the family and said “hold on.”

Maybe if I would have been more alert I would have built an ark or some sort of luxury yacht but I didn’t. So we jumped on my board and hung fingers, feet and paws.

Good Times. I tell you it was all sorts of fun.

It is Called Parenting

My daughter screamed at me. She told me in no uncertain terms that she thought I had wrecked her life. I looked down at this girl of mine and saw a different sort of tsunami coming towards me. The dark haired beauty is smart and beautiful. She has a presence to her and when she is angry she comes at you like a battering ram.

She accused me of not caring about her and I laughed. I didn’t mean to, but if she had any sense of the beating I have taken on her behalf and her brother she wouldn’t say it. I told her that she needs to think very carefully before she speaks and that her lack of gratitude was irritating.

That laughter didn’t help her to hear or accept what I was saying and I probably shouldn’t have done it, but we all make mistakes. So I pulled her into my arms and gave her a big hug and told her that I keep my promises. She asked me what that meant and I told her that on the day she was born I promised to take care of her. She said that she didn’t get it and I said that was ok.

“You don’t have to understand or like everything I do. You just have to believe/trust that I am doing my best to take care of you.”

And then I reminded her that I am not her friend and that she shouldn’t treat me like one. I am her father and that means that I am required to parent even when it is hard and or uncomfortable.

The Basketball Game

In spite of my ugly and swollen toe I still played three games of basketball. It is my sanity and one day my body won’t let me play but I wasn’t going to let the toe stop me. So even though it hurt to run and I had trouble pushing off I still got my time on the court in.

Except this time I played a slightly different game. I adapted and adjusted. My team won two of the three games and I scored more points than I normally do. The increase in productivity came because I had to adjust and I recognized that I had an opportunity that I could take advantage of.

Sometimes pain leads to something better. The important thing is to remember to keep your eyes open because you never can tell what the universe will send down your way.

Thank you universe. You have given me more than I shared and more than I realized.

Filed Under: Children, Life

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