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 July 2012

The Summer Of Blogging

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Top of Mt. Hood, OregonOne of my 1,983,221 little sisters left a voicemail on my cellphone in which she complained about the stories I am telling my nephews about her.

“Jack, you need to stop telling Jackson these ridiculous stories. He actually believes some of them are true.”

I immediately called her back and told her that she was a very lucky girl and not just because she is my little sister.

“Little sister, I am going to take this voicemail and use it for blog fodder. You’ll be famous.”

Since my little sister holds no one in higher regard than me she called me back and told me that she would be honored to be on the blog. Full disclosure: little sister has quite the vocabulary and used many colorful words to describe her feelings about being featured on the blog and reminded me to stop telling those $@^$#^$ stories.

Sigh, being a big brother is a lot like being an artist whose work isn’t appreciated for being as wonderful as he knows it is.  I didn’t want little sister to feel badly about that, so I called her one more time.

“Little sister if you were here I would let you bask in my glory and reap the rewards of being in my presence. But since you aren’t I promise to tell your children more tales about what you were like as a child and some of the fine things you did during you sorority days. Just remember, I am a genius whose work should be appreciated.”

And that is how I proved to my nephew that I could make his 41 year-old mother call grandma to complain about her big brother. Damn, sometimes I am a true artist.

The Summer of Blogging

Technically this post you are reading is supposed to be a list of things I want to do before I kick the bucket. It is supposed to be a collection of cool ideas that will make you ooh and ah.

It would have been but it is almost 1 am and I need to get up way too soon. But I did promise many people including Jayme that I would do this and I shall. Soon I shall be added to ranks of:

You’ll have to wait for that post to find out if I want to run with bulls, wrestle alligators and gorillas, climb Mount Everest or take control of the NBA so I can kick the celtics out of the league.

Information You Might Need To Know

I was tempted to make this subhead about information you don’t need to know about and then I decided that should be the headline for a post. So coming soon we shall have all sorts of fun writing about that, but for now let me share information you might need to know.

The Stories I Don’t Share

The stories I don’t share with you are some of the best you would or could ever read. Sometimes I feel badly about that but there are boundaries in blogging and those should be respected.

And that reminds me to remind you to question what you read because sometimes it really isn’t true. More than a few posts here have been published with a label that says “fiction” and I still receive comments asking for more details.

Confession: If it says fiction and you ask for details I will make up more so that I can answer your query. Life is short and one cannot be serious all the time. And with that your insouciant host is off to dream about hot women who love him because he is a professional athlete who is also a rock star who has published 20 best selling books, cured cancer and is the long lost King of England.

Try not to take the Summer of Blogging too seriously. Life is too short.

It Is A Contradiction

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I have very few regrets but those that I carry around are massive and I haven’t found a way to reconcile them…yet.

It is an interesting moment in time for me. Something big was about to happen. I had thought that I was on the verge of making a very large and very exciting change in my life, but at the last moment it fell apart.

There is a certain amount of relief intermixed with disappointment, frustration and confusion about this. This change of events surprised me and though I don’t list it as one of my big regrets I think it is part of the reason I am up at 1:3o and not sleeping.

Call it concern. Call it worry. Call it confidence.

Yes, it is a contradiction.

It is kind of funny to me to think about life and to say that I have become a bit of an agnostic about believing in intuition and things being meant to be. I always said that I made my decisions based upon logic but when I thought about it there was an awful lot that came to be because I based it upon my gut.

So maybe I have always been this guy who believed in intuition but was afraid to verbalize it

What I Know

What I know is that even though I am concerned and nervous about where things are at I also feel good. That is because I am doing the right things to make changes.I am not sitting on my ass just letting life pass me by. I am taking an active stance and working on things.

Some of my friends have said that I should take a deep breath and relax because good things are coming. I appreciate and understand where they are coming from but it is not easy to just accept that as advice. It is hard to just believe the universe will send me something because I ask.

So I balance it out by doing my best to have a good attitude and to work towards what I want.

Bad Writing

There have been some moments here where I have been guilty of bad blogging and bad writing. I won’t always point it out but I usually run the bad stuff as well as the good. That is because the only way to improve is to practice. When I look at the “bad material” it makes it easier for me to figure out what stinks and how I can/should improve it.

One of the goals is to become a better writer so it makes sense to me to follow this path.

Anyway, there is much more to say about this but it is far too late. Just in case I go into hibernation here are some links to try:

Her Name Was Lola

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Her name was Lola and she was a showgirl. We met at a club she worked at and dated for a while. Everyone wants to know more about how we became a couple.

The best way to answer those questions is to start not in the beginning but in the middle.

It Doesn’t Hurt So Good

She me caught me with her teeth and I screamed. It was dark so I can’t tell you what our faces looked like but I imagine that 50 shades of white or red might be accurate.

That is not the sort of thing a man is supposed to admit but then again he probably isn’t supposed to talk about the act in general.

Instead of an apology I received an accusation that I was taking too long to finish. Call me what you will but I’ll match my pain against a sore jaw any day of the week.

Scratch that. I’ll even admit that for a moment I wished a bad case of TMJ on her.

Some things are meant to be handled with care…always. I may like to walk on the wild side but I am not a masochist either.

It wasn’t the best relationship and it wasn’t her fault.

Ok, that isn’t entirely true. I can’t play the noble guy very well so I might as well share more of the story with you.

Her Name Was Lola

Her name was Lola and she was a showgirl, except I didn’t meet her in some fancy club where the men wear tuxedos and the women wear evening gowns. We didn’t make eye contact across a crowded room and decide that it was love at first sight.

It would be more accurate to describe it as lust at first lap dance.

I didn’t want to do it but it was Jimmy’s bachelor party and I didn’t want to be the guy who screwed the party up…again. I had spent too many years fighting to leave my past where it belonged.

Tony paid for the first dance and Max for the second. Don’t ask me why because I don’t know, after all it was Jimmy’s party.  She gave me the third, fourth and fifth ones for free.

Never figured out why they were free, but I wondered if it was her idea.

Come Home With Me

It was Max who noticed how much time she spent with me. He said she really liked me, but I wondered if I was being set up. It wouldn’t have been the first time Max or the others had messed with me. I was tired of being an easy mark, but I desperately wanted to be cool.

She was a dancer and had the best body of any woman I had ever been with. It was like a dream except I was awake, so I just went for it. I asked and she said yes.

Max and the others were jealous, but if they knew everything they might not be.

****

 This was going to be part of Yeah Write but I decided not to submit it.  Couldn’t really decide what to do with it so I just put it up and here it is.

What Is The Value Of Comment Sense?

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"Come, Sit, Tell Me About America..." (#1 of 2 - a set)

What is the value of comment sense is the sort of goofy and ambiguous headline that makes my black heart go pitter-patter. I love the way it establishes a foundation to go right or left, or maybe front or backwards.

It sets a tone that is at once off key and harmonious with exactly what I want or at least what I think I want. I think about these things often because it is part of who I am.

I like to pick, poke and prod.

I want to know why some things work and others don’t. It is equally applicable to the blogosphere as to real life.

What is Comment Sense?

I guess I see it as being tied into every other conversation we have had here about comments. I see it as being part and parcel of those. If you haven’t participated let me provide you with blogging philosophy as it pertains to comments.

This is a two way street. I will write whether you comment or not but you will have no say/influence in what I write unless you comment. You will have no say in what sort of community is being built here unless you comment.

Comments are not currency. They are not a valid indicator of whether a blog is successful or not. This doesn’t mean they cannot be used as part of measuring success, just that they shouldn’t be used on their own.

My goal is to have this place function like a barbecue or cool bar. We are here to talk, hang out and get to know each other. I like it better when I know what you think, but that doesn’t mean that I am going to do what you say. It just means that I prefer to give you the opportunity to share your thoughts about the various topics we discuss/

If you act like a jerk I may help you hoist yourself onto your own petard, or I may not.

People Remember How You Make Them Feel

People tend to remember the time you made them feel stupid or helped them remember that people can be jerks. It is rarely effective to try and convince someone to change their behavior by making them feel stupid.

I have a memory like an elephant for the times it has happened to me. I try not to hold onto that sort of crazy because it serves little to no purpose. All it does is give someone free rent inside your head and the worst part is that it could be given to someone you despise.

You don’t want to give free rent to the jerks you want forget, or at least I don’t.

The kids and I talk about this more often than I wish. They ask about moving and want to know if we’ll have good neighbors or if they will be mean. I remind them they haven’t ever had bad neighbors and that there is no point in worrying about things that have never happened.

They only sort of listen to me. They are both going to public school this year and are excited but nervous. I tell them I am too, but say that I am confident in their abilities. It is true, I am.

But part of me feels badly that the end of their time at the private school has come. The dark haired beauty hasn’t had as much time there as her brother and that really hits me. I want it to be fair. I don’t want them to say one got more than the other.

Sometimes I say that and laugh because I know some people would call me a socialist or a communist for saying/thinking it. I would be the snob who told them they can complain when they understand what the words mean and why they might be important. And then I would ask them to prove they voted.

Comment Sense And Blogging

When I circle back to comments on blogs I come back to the same places over and over. Dissent is a healthy thing. We don’t always need to agree but if you don’t try not to make it personal.

Don’t make every comment an ad for your blog. Ask questions of others and answer them.

If you aren’t having fun in the blogopshere what are you doing here. Yes, it is rhetorical question.

I think I am falling asleep while writing this so I need to wrap it up soon. Today was a really good day.

My baby had her birthday and we had all kinds of fun, but even though I know her age I still can’t believe she isn’t a toddler anymore.

If you comment on my blog I will try to make a point to visit yours, but I don’t guarantee that I will get there, because sometimes I don’t.

The Summer Slowdown

The summer slowdown is in full effect. If you are new to blogging don’t freak out about the drop in traffic because it happens to most of us. The traffic on my blog is a bit lighter than normal but I expect it to pick back up when school starts again.

It happens every year and then we forget because traffic goes back up and comments mirror expectations.

What do you think?

This was part of Just Write #45.

 

Touch Me There & I Might Break Your Arm

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Angry face

Those who know me best have devised a list of signs that you can use to determine when I am truly angry and not messing around with you.

  1. I unconsciously begin to flex the fingers on both of my hands.
  2. One of the veins in my forehead pops out just slightly.
  3. I get very quiet.
  4. I make the angry face.

My son is responsible for number four. He coined that line when he was about three or so. It usually came out when he knew that I was upset and would say, “daddy, don’t make the angry face at me.”

But my favorite moment was when he told someone in a parking lot that they were in big trouble because they made daddy make the angry face.

I can’t tell you what it looks like because I don’t need to look in the mirror when I am irritated, but that is neither here nor there. Most people will never see the angry face or experience the wrath of Jack because it is usually a waste of time.

There Are Moments

This past Saturday night the angry face came out but the source of my ire wasn’t directed solely at another person. Nope, part of it was directed at myself. Part of it was focused inwards because I was disappointed in myself.

Let me give you the skinny.

I am a Taurus and I am built like one. And because I am a smartass let me clarify that I don’t have a tail, hooves or a ring through my nose. No horns either, but if I did you might get them in the ass. 😉

Back to the matter at hand.

One of the guys at the party came up, slapped me on the belly and said “How are you?”

That is not friendly. That is a passive-aggressive way of taking a swipe at me. I get it, the stomach isn’t quite as flat as it once was. Been eating well for a bit and I have slipped a bit.

I was more irritated with me than him. I was more upset because I lacked the discipline to shut my mouth and stop eating. I was more upset because I don’t like the way I look in pictures.

Angry Talk (Comic Style)

What Happened Next

He didn’t wind up with his head inserted in the block wall behind us nor was he granted an unexpected nap. I thought about saying something to him. I thought about suggesting that a guy who is a decade younger than I am and in far worst shape should be cautious in who he insults, but I didn’t.

Blame it on ego, but I didn’t want him to know he had pricked me. I didn’t want to say that it got me, because then he would win. I know, it sounds kind of silly but part of the purpose of the blog is to figure things out.

So I smiled and told him that he ought to get some sunblock for his head because between the moon and the glare from his dome I was in desperate need of sunglasses.

Sometimes men are so juvenile. Just imagine what would have happened if we had both worn the same dress.

What Needs To Happen

This is the simple part. What needs to happen is I need to make a decision about whether I intend to be serious about getting into the kind of shape I want to be in or whether I am good with where I am at.

The reality is that I am not in horrible shape. I wouldn’t call myself a model but things aren’t terrible. They just don’t reflect the vision I have of myself. When I see myself in my mind’s eye I still see the 19 year-old I used to be.

When I play ball I sometimes forget that my legs don’t have the same spring they used to have, but I am proud to say that I play based upon what I can do now. That is because I deal with reality. I adjusted my game and I am good with it.

So the question of adjusting my mental image of myself is one that I need to address because it is tied into inner peace of mind. I either have to become more serious and cut out more of the stuff I love to eat or accept that I am ok like this.

I can kill these moments. I can kill the frustration. I can wipe it out, I just have to make the decision to do so.

Personal accountability is what it is about.

But to be the safe side might I suggest you not touch me there or I might break your arm. 😉

The Birthday Girl

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Dear Baby Girl,

You asked me to carry you up the stairs today and I had to say yes. I don’t mean for it to sound like I didn’t have a choice because I did. I carried you because the time is coming when you won’t want me to do it any more and frankly you will be too big to carry.

I carried you like I used to do when you were a baby and a toddler. I carried you with your head resting on my shoulder and for just a moment I pretended that you were that baby that turned my world upside down 8 years ago.

Eight years ago. You were born two days after your grandfather’s triple bypass. You have heard bits and pieces of the story but it will take a while before you understand what a profound experience it was.

So many things happened that year.

Mom took a test during one of her doctor’s visits that showed a false positive. It was a test that checks to see if the baby is going to have a birth defect.  We were told that it was possible you might have something really nasty. They said it was possible you might have something awful that would probably kill you by two or that you might have Down’s Syndrome.

I spent hours after that test wondering what it would mean if the test was accurate. I wondered what it would do to the family and to your brother. And I agonized over you, even though I didn’t have a clue if you were a boy or a girl.

Another Test

We took another test later on and confirmed that you were healthy. I can’t tell you how relieved I was. Would have loved you either way but this was great news.

It wasn’t all that long afterwards that grandpa had his heart attack and ended up on life support. It was touch and go for a long while there and then just when we thought he was ok we found out that he had to have surgery.

Things were a little crazy to say the least. I spent a lot of time walking with the Big Lug.

When I was nervous about what would happen and concerned about how to juggle everything he was my go-to-dog. We had to say goodbye to him when you were very little so you don’t really remember him or understand how big he was.

That head of his was enormous. He was big enough that even today you could have ridden him like a horse and gentle enough that I never worried about him with you.

I remember how you used to climb on him. You even fell asleep a couple of times but he let you be. Sometimes I think in part it was because I told him that you were the person I had talked about so many times. I told him that one day we would meet you and find out what you were like and he just wagged his tail.

You are the incarnation of joy and have been forever, but he was friendship epitomized. I miss him and always will.

But This Isn’t About Who We Miss

This isn’t a sad post at all because it is about you. It is about my baby girl who in a few hours is going to turn eight years-old. Hell, I keep saying it but it blows me away to realize that you are this old.

I remember when the nurse stuck you in the warmer and I told you that I was your daddy. I promised to love you and take care of you. You wrapped your tiny hand around my index finger and stared at me.

I told you a couple  of stories and stared at you in awe.

Sometimes I still do.

You are fearless and so very smart. I am biased but you are quickly turning into a force of nature. You know your mind and when you want something you are relentless.

One of things I love about you is your caring nature. The other day when you saw I was angry you came over and asked if you could make me feel better. I told you it is not your job and you shook your head at me.

Little Miss Thing, you may get a chance to take care of me but I’ll 198 when that happens. Right now it is my turn to take care of you. In the years to come I will tell you that again and thank you for your concern.

That wasn’t me dismissing you in the way you thought it was. That was your dad saying that now is your time to be a kid. You don’t need to be concerned with everything, but you are and that is part of what makes you so amazing,

Beautiful

I don’t think you are beautiful, I know you are. I tell you so, but I try to make sure to mention that after I have talked about you being smart. That is because I want you to value brains over beauty. That is because we live in a time where I see girls and women spend billions trying to look a certain way and I am concerned.

I am concerned because I have heard some of your friends talk about going on diets and speak in a way that should be reserved for women. I don’t want that for you.

You are more than a pretty face. You are more than your smile.

But I have faith. I trust that you will figure it all out and I’ll do my best to help you along the way.

Remember a few things baby girl:

  1. I love you and always will.
  2. Don’t be afraid to let go and live with the sort of passion I know you have. Live, laugh and love…hard.
  3. Try not to get too upset at not being able to beat me wrestling or racing. As you say I may be old, but I am crafty. 😉

I love you very much and am very proud of you.

Dad