Archives for May 2012

Sabotage

May 17, 2012 by Jack Steiner 2 Comments

It is the middle of May in 1994 and I am living in an apartment just south of Ventura Boulevard in Encino. It is an older place built in the early 50’s and filled with quite the mix of residents.

There is a chef who works at the Benihana just down the street, a guy who works at Paramount studios building sets, a single mom with two kids, myself, a couple of people who work in the music industry and an assortment of others.

I am 25 years-old and live on the second floor with a view of the pool. A short time ago my father came by to visit. It is a short trip. He doesn’t plan on staying long because he is supposed to take my mom to a movie.

There is a knock on the screen door. “Jack, stop screwing around and come over. We are going to get high and then get some dinner.”

The invitation comes from my neighbor John. He doesn’t see my dad sitting on the couch. “A couple of Kelly’s friends are going to come by too. You should come, they like younger men. Maybe you’ll get laid.”

John isn’t trying to screw with me. He is a really nice guy who is friendly and generous. He is serious about getting high and serious about me getting laid. He is 31. I like him and sometimes we hang out, but for some reason I am always conscious of the difference in age between us.

My dad doesn’t say anything. He just looks at me. I am not sure how to respond here so I ask him if he wants a soda.

“Jack, you are old enough to know what to do. Be smart about it. You can have a really good time and still get into trouble.”

I nod my head. A short time later dad leaves and I go hang out with my neighbors. I don’t get high.

Sabotage

There is a group of us hanging out at the pool. We are drinking, eating and living it up. We’re listening to Sabotage, a new cut from The Beastie Boys most recent album. Later on I’ll watch the video and laugh. It reminds me of being a kid. My friends and I used to do all those things.

We’d chase each other around, jump over fences, dive into the swimming pools, wrestle and just let loose. Our mothers would yell at us and say that we were playing too rough. We’d nod and smile and then go right back to it.

Sometimes the mothers would stand over us to make sure that we listened to what they had to say. Occasionally we’d hear them complain to our fathers about how rough we were. Most of the time our fathers would say something like “boys will be boys” and we’d smile and get a bit crazier.

Years later I’d find myself saying something similar and shake my head at the sense of Deja Vu.

Goodbye MCA

Adam Yauch died a couple of weeks ago, but that isn’t how I knew him. He was MCA. It feels surreal and a bit silly to say it. I hadn’t really thought much about this. I was sorry that he died and sorry that Junior Seau killed himself.

Maybe it is because I have been lost in my own world for a while. Maybe it is because I have been so caught up in trying to make some changes in my life. Maybe that relentless focus and pursuit is why I didn’t realize that it really bothered me. Don’t know if it matters knowing why, just know that it does.

What I do know is that earlier this week I was screwing around with my son and that I pulled a trick on him that he hadn’t seen. That kid of mine is a hair short of 11.5 and getting big. He isn’t fast enough yet to out run me. In a sprint I will still beat him. I can still hold my own with a lot of guys who are younger than I am, once…maybe twice.

After that it starts to get dicey.

Anyway, we’re outside and he is chasing me around the yard and I realize that my legs feel really good. They feel like they have some spring in them and I take off running, but I don’t go all out because part of the fun is keeping him close enough to think he can catch me. Â He gets close and then I start moving.

Eventually he catches up and promises that one day I won’t be able to do that. He is right. We both know it, but I know that it is sooner than I want it to be.

On this particular day I set off running and find a car parked in a driveway. Most days I would go around it but not today. My legs feel good and so I jump and slide across the hood. I am a combination of the Dukes of Hazzard, Starsky and Hutch and me.

A few minutes later I am sitting on my lawn, winded but laughing. My son catches up to me and smiles. I just reminded him that dad might not be all that old yet.

Goodbye MCA, I’ll miss you.

Write Now The Tales That Should Be Told

May 16, 2012 by Jack Steiner 4 Comments

workforprize

Editor’s Note: I don’t know why there are strikethroughs on some of the names and links here. I didn’t set it up that way. Will try to figure that out, but don’t have time to sift through now.

Several hours ago I asked a question on Facebook:

Reader feedback time. Are there any topics that you would like to see covered on the blog?

To which I received the following responses:

StanÂ FarynaÂ Los Angeles, your favorite places, old haunts, what it’s like…

Gini Dietrich Who you are in real life?

Alan Kercinik Stuff you HAVE to read. I’m always looking to be exposed to writing people I like are reading.

I have answers for all of you but I am pressed for time and even though brevity and I are often at odds this will be short. However you can expect to see more posts about these topics coming down the pike.

Stan, I am a native of Los Angeles. Been living in the City of Angels for 43 years now in both the Valley and the West side. Some of my favorite places can be found up at the top of Reseda Boulevard, Griffith Park, Â The Hollywood Bowl and Zuma Beach.

Sometimes you can find me eating at Nat’s Early Bite, Salsa and Beer or a number of the Sushi bars throughout the Valley. I love Trader Joes and Costco. When I am not working or with the family you can find me playing ball, hiking or hanging out with friends.

Gini, I am not really Dear Abby nor am I Â Tom Friedman. I went to school with David Gregory, junior high and high school. If he saw me in person he would know me, but that is as close as I come to television journalism.

I really am a 43 year-old man who has beautiful children. I have hung out with Shonali, Soulati, Bill, Lori and KaarinaÂ among others. If I had a hammer I would hammer in the morning, I would hammer in the evening and I would hammer out danger, but probably not warning. Some people just have to learn to look out.

I don’t believe in leaving the toilet seat down and think that the D.H. is an abomination. I still dream of playing center field for the Dodgers and power forward for the Lakers. I have a relative who works for an NFL team and have asked to be granted approval to play at least one down. I’ll go special teams, offense or defense. I just don’t care. How cool would it be to say that I played once.

Yes, I know that sounds crazy but you only live once. There was a time when I could bench 330…23 years ago. I am dumb enough to think that I can pull him out of the woodwork for one play and survive. If not I can still run like hell and if you put me on special teams I can still look good trying to tackle a guy, at least I think I can.

If you are going to dream, then dream big.

Alan, I read a ton of books. At the moment I am reading Have a Little Faith by Mitch Albom and The Affair by Lee Child. Earlier this year I read all of The Hunger Games Trilogy. I’ll probably read The Hobbit again for no other reason than just because. I have read most of Malcom Gladwell’s books. I like finding books about words to read, something like Words That Make a Difference.

I read The Week, Newsweek and Time on a regular basis and a slew of other odds and ends.

My friend Jason wrote a post today that I will probably read and think about a few more times. Danny, Margie, The Rebbetzin’s Husband, Jens, CraigÂ and a bunch of other bloggers will get tossed into the mix as will Letters of Note.

Write Now The Tales That Should Be Told

My time is almost up but before I go let me touch upon the headline. I am doing my best to write the tales that should be told now as well as those that must be told. Someone once said that I write like I am being chased by the hounds of hell and there is some truth to it.

I write at a fast and furious pace because these are the tales that should be told and who knows how much time I have got. My heart and my gut tell me at least another 60 years, but they have sometimes played me false.

All I know is that when you get as much pleasure out of this wacky writing gig as I do there is no reason not to do it as often as you can. Have fun. Sustain your effort. Just write. Stop thinking about it and just write.

There is No Relationship Between Your Bank Account & Your IQ

May 16, 2012 by Jack Steiner 8 Comments

This is the sort of post that I thought twice about writing. Not because I am afraid to speak my mind but because it is possible that my words could have a negative impact upon my children.

I don’t really expect that to happen, but it would be foolish of me not to take a moment to consider whether there could be fall out. Excuse me for a moment while I take my customary two minutes to think about.

And we’re back.

My children are receiving a terrific education at the private school they attend. This makes me very happy because sending them there has come with a significant amount of stress.

That is not because their education is inferior but because it costs a boatload of money to send them there. Unless you are interested in listening to me rant don’t ask me why they haven’t gone to a public school. Had there been a good choice it would have happened but because we live in a land of misguided priorities we’re more concerned about making sure that Tom isn’t able to legally wed Dick.

God forbid that happen because if we made it legal Tom might find little Dick and do things with it that I am not supposed to write about in a family blog. And we all know that the best way to prevent something from happening is to say no or declare it illegal. It works so well.

Anyhoo, education is of paramount importance to us. Your material possessions can be taken from you, but your education can’t. So when the time came to send the children off to school we chose the private school because at that time there wasn’t a good public school option nor was it possible to move.

Private School Challenges

The second most irritating part of private school (tuition being the first) is that fundraising needs push big donors into positions of prominence and influence. I understand that it is important to keep them happy. There is no doubt that my children have benefited from some of the money that they have donated to the school.

However it is also certain that some of these bigger donors have used their financial influence to wield some control upon policy and that isn’t always a good thing. The fact that there are lots of zeros in your bank account is not indicative of your prowess or skill in the field of education. A fat wallet doesn’t mean that you know a thing about how to run a school or that you have a lick of common sense.

So we sometimes find that volunteer positions aren’t necessarily filled by those are most capable and best able to fulfill the responsibilities of the position. We find that money sometimes makes people behave in a manner that is reprehensible.

I don’t care if you have money. It doesn’t matter to me whether you have more less than I do. All I care about is who has the greatest ability to positively impact the school. End of story.

Yet I find myself arguing with idiots, buffoons and mean girls who are in a category all their own.

Private School Fundraisers

Private school fundraisers are a great example of the problems that certain elements can create. If you were to have a hypothetical auction you might reach out to various businesses and ask for donations of products/services that you could auction off to raise money for the school.

The smart school would reach out to businesses by presenting this as marketing opportunity. Don’t tell them that if they don’t provide a donation that the school won’t have a computer. Tell them that they are reaching a very affluent group of prospective consumers and that this group will be made aware of where the donation comes from.

When you do that they can view it as a business expense. You are helping them with the advertising/marketing efforts. That is something smart business people are interested in.

Alas some people are so provincial and so insecure they use that big bank account to prevent common sense from ruling the day. They tell you that they would never think of using eBay to run an online auction because they think it is trashy. Of course they haven’t ever used it nor does it make sense to them to expand the pool of prospective buyers from a few thousand into the millions.

Sour Grapes

Of course I don’t have any personal experience with this. I would never suggest that certain people gained their influence by lying down upon their backs because that would be too subtle. I would be far more graphic because making them sputter is much more fun.

And if I did any of these things for real people would suggest that I was angry merely because of sour grapes. Sigh, they just don’t understand that while I may be selfish in regard to my children my selfishness benefits their children too. Because the nifty thing about raising more money for the school is that it goes to all of the children and not just a privileged few.

Oh well, sometimes there really isn’t a relationship between your bank account and your IQ.

Do You Ever Delete Posts You Have Published?

May 15, 2012 by Jack Steiner 13 Comments

listen to â€˜Do You Ever Delete Posts You Have Published?â€™ on Audioboo

The Rules Of The Game

May 15, 2012 by Jack Steiner 42 Comments

My daughter looks at me and asks what is wrong. I don’t tell her what I really think or what I really feel. I just say that I had a bad day because I did. She smiles and she throws her arms around me.

This girl of mine, she wants to rescue daddy. That is what she says. I smile and I tell her that she doesn’t need to feel that way because I don’t need rescuing.

That is not entirely true. I do. I need to find a ship that will take me aboard. I need to stop treading water. My body is tired but that is not the hardest part. The hardest part is that my spirit feels weak. I feel battered and bruised.

And Now A Word From Our Sponsors

Tonight I am writing for Just Write and Yeah Write. They are two different writing programs that I have come to love. Every week I look forward to being a part of them. Every week I find new blogs to read through them and every week new readers find me.

This post you are reading is hard for me to write. It is hard because there are a million things going on and I am guarded. I share much but I don’t share everything. This post you are reading is hard because I am trying to connect with you and I keep telling myself to stop.

Instead of just writing and letting the words flow I am thinking carefully about what I say. That is because I want you to become so enamored you can’t help but become a fan of my Facebook Page. I want you to read these words and want to be a part of this community. I want you to read these words and want to read everything I have ever written.

Part of me is digusted by that. Part of me wants to say that it is terrible to beg and debase myself. Part of me says that I need to stop thinking and just write because that is where my best writing comes from.

There is truth to that. When I ignore self doubt and turn off the editor inside my head good things happen. But there is another voice inside that says that I have to change the rules of the game.

That voice says that I have spent too much time doing things one way and it can’t hurt to change it up. So I wonder if my hesitation is fear. I wonder if I fear being successful as much as I fear failure.

Fear And Blogging

Fear is a big part of blogging or should I say my blogging. I try to write about my fear. I do it because I hope that by doing so I will understand it better and because it is easier to control. I don’t walk around in fear, but I am normal. There are things that scare me.

Somewhere there is a list of them. I usually share it around Halloween.

At the moment my two biggest fears are simple. I fear failing my children and I fear not having the courage to try. I really prefer to try and fail than fail to try. Most of the time I think I do a good job of not succumbing to that, but sometimes I fall short.

Sometimes I look in the mirror and see my biggest enemy. Sometimes I think of the person that used to be my biggest cheerleader and wonder if I really need them to succeed.

I probably don’t. Not sure why I qualified that. It is times like now that I miss my grandparents. They definitely were among my biggest cheerleaders. I have blogged about them many times. I probably should link to those posts or at least some of them. You can read about my paternal grandfather here. You can read a post called Echoes Of The People We Miss and learn a bit more about my grandparents.

It touches upon how one of my grandfathers died of a broken heart. Sure he was 97 and sooner or later age would have caught up to him, but it was grandma’s death that killed him. He loved my grandma so very much.

A while back I had a dream about them. I was standing in front of my house and I saw grandma driving down the street. I couldn’t figure out how she was driving because in my dream I knew that she was dead, but dreams are funny that way.

So I ran next door to the neighbor’s house to get grandpa. I watched him run to her. They hugged each other and waved to me. They were about 2o feet away but I couldn’t get to them.

They smiled at me and I wondered why I couldn’t just walk over and say hi. It was surreal. I knew that I was an adult. I knew that I was a father, but I felt like a kid. Why couldn’t I just go hug my grandparents.

You Can’t Go Back- You Can Only Go Through

I wonder how many people will read this post. I wonder who will be interested in checking out the other links. There is one called Life is A Tale Told By An Idiot that has been calling out to me.

Several sections of it keep popping up. I keep hearing/seeing these words

If I could read your mind, love,
What a tale your thoughts could tell.
Just like a paperback novel,
The kind the drugstores sell.
Then you reached the part where the heartaches come,
The hero would be me.
But heroes often fail,
And you won’t read that book again
Because the endings just too hard to take!
If You Could Read My Mind- Gordon Lightfoot

There are others that call out to me, other posts that is. I can’t provide excerpts to all of them but I can provide links and hope that some will follow:

New Years Eve– Sometimes they are magical and sometimes they aren’t.
The Final Goodbye– The Big Lug was more than just a pet, he was my best friend. Don’t know why the comments repeat there, but..
I Hear Music– There is no explanation. This simply is.
The Flying Clown– A drunk clown at a child’s birthday part is a recipe for…something.

I am chasing my dreams. Change is in the air. It is a bit exciting and disconcerting. We’re going to be moving again. Not quite sure when, but some time this year. Don’t know where we’ll move to yet. Might stay in the city or might leave the state.

Lots of possibilities.

I am chasing my dreams. If I can’t figure out the rules of the game then I might as well make them up as I go along.

The Dark Knight & Blog Etiquette

May 14, 2012 by Jack Steiner 13 Comments

Bruce Wayne: Targeting me won’t get their money back. I knew the mob wouldn’t go down without a fight, but this is different. They crossed the line.

Alfred Pennyworth: You crossed the line first, sir. You squeezed them, you hammered them to the point of desperation. And in their desperation, they turned to a man they didn’t fully understand.

Bruce Wayne: Criminals aren’t complicated, Alfred. Just have to figure out what he’s after.

Alfred Pennyworth: With respect Master Wayne, perhaps this is a man that *you* don’t fully understand, either. A long time ago, I was in Burma. My friends and I were working for the local government. They were trying to buy the loyalty of tribal leaders by bribing them with precious stones. But their caravans were being raided in a forest north of Rangoon by a bandit. So, we went looking for the stones. But in six months, we never met anybody who traded with him. One day, I saw a child playing with a ruby the size of a tangerine. The bandit had been throwing them away.

Bruce Wayne: So why steal them?

Alfred Pennyworth: Well, because he thought it was good sport. Because some men aren’t looking for anything logical, like money. They can’t be bought, bullied, reasoned, or negotiated with. Some men just want to watch the world burn.

I love that exchange between Bruce Wayne and Alfred. It is gratifying to me to see that Alfred isn’t an ordinary butler. He has been around and seen things and that experience has taught him that people like The Joker don’t always act logically or rationally.

It is something that I agree with and believe in. People like to think that they make smart decisions based upon logic but they don’t. That group includes me too. Some decisions are based upon arbitrary things that we aren’t even conscious of.

It May Be Our Community But It Is My Blog

I have multiple goals for the blog and spend time each day working on them. If you are among the long time readers you know that I want to spend my days writing. You know that I have been published professionally but I haven’t Â yet published my novels.

That is not a pipe dream. It is going to happen. The blog is going to be a part of it.

You also know that I write about our community because that is what I am building here,Â our community. However that doesn’t change the reality that it is my blog. I am the host. I make the rules and even though it may be our community it is my job to make it work. That requires some doing.

Comments About Comments

What Is The Value of A Comment?Â isÂ ne of the most popular posts to run here. It has created a great conversation both within and without the blog and I have very much enjoyed it. It has also been the spot where several people have expressed their displeasure with me. Today I deleted several comments that used the very creative user name of “fuckoffjack.”

Apparently they were quite angry because they think I have been deleting comments. I tend not to do that. I am usually happy to let you hoist yourself on your own petard. Write something stupid and I often will let it stand and let you deal with it. But today they rubbed me the wrong way and I deleted them, but I want to point something out.

Look at the picture below:

Comments1 — Sometimes it makes sense to check IP addresses

The person who so lovingly used “fuckoffjack” as their handle used this IP address several times. This clip suggests that they might potentially be a spammer. Now look at the shot below:

comments2 — More Information about the suspected spammer.

That picture provides a list of “names” and “messages” used by the person(s) that used this IP address. They include the usual spam topics of sex, pills and jewelry among other things.

It is possible that there is no relationship between the commenter(s) from today and the information I have but that doesn’t really matter because I am not obligated to publish any comments, nor is anyone obligated to read my blog.

We all have choices and the opportunity to decide what we want to do. I have a very simple commenting policyÂ but sometimes I think about spelling it out like my friend Adrienne has here.

The Dark Knight & Blog Etiquette

Maybe Old Jack is nothing more than a glorified daddy blogger who dreams of being a cross between Wolverine and The Dark Knight. Or maybe he is something more. We’ll have to wait and see. In the interim I have to go delete a few more of these messages and ban a few more IPs.

It is always good to have fans.

What do you think?