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 September 2012

New Year’s Resolutions, Deodorant & Car Repairs

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“Courage is not having the strength to go on; it is going on when you don’t have the strength.”― Theodore Roosevelt

A reader once sent me an email in which they offered advice that they said would make my blog better and more popular. Here is what they shared with me:

  1. Stop updating so frequently. We can’t keep up and most people don’t care.
  2. You are too negative. You bring us down and people don’t like that.

That’s not verbatim but it is very close. I didn’t respond to their email and it wasn’t because I couldn’t.

I didn’t because I couldn’t think of a reason why I needed to convince them to like my blog or why they needed to change. I suppose that some of it was because I wasn’t going to and I didn’t expect them to either.

Shofar (by Alphonse Lévy) Caption says: "...
Shofar (by Alphonse Lévy) Caption says: “To a good year” (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Why I Do What I Do

I blog the way I do because it pleases me. This makes me happy. My posts are as long or as short as they need to be and they cover the topics that need to be covered. Some people love my writing, some hate it and some are indifferent.

This is ok. It is life and it is how the world works. I am powerful and capable of changing many things but this is not a battle I need to fight. I pay attention to those battles, especially around the new year.

I probably should qualify that and say I am talking about Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year. It is just around the corner and I am feeling a bit unsettled.

This happens every year. I could give you a long winded story about why but it is well after midnight and it is probably not necessary.

Instead let me say that part of why I am unsettled is because I am in the midst of big changes that have taken far longer to settle than I had planned for and it is a bit disruptive.

It is also because this is the time of year for introspection and while my overall sense of who I am and what I am about it is good there are things that I am unsatisfied with, hence I am unsettled.

Deodorant

This weekend we bought deodorant for my son. Today he asked me to show him how to use it. It may sound silly but it was cool and I suspect a precursor to shaving.

We are a long way off before that comes, but it is something that I have long looked forward to. I remember my father teaching me. I am not in a rush to teach my son, but I expect it will be at an older age than I was for the very simple reason that his hair is light brown.

My beard is black and distinct. His shadow will be less noticeable than mine. He doesn’t know that is a perk, but he will.

This past weekend I watched him play soccer and saw him really begin to come into his own. He has been making big improvements for a while now, but it is clear that things click in a way they didn’t before.

The boy is really turning into the preteen I have been expecting to show up. I am both excited and nervous.

His Bar Mitzvah is next year. How the hell am I going to pay for it.

Car Repairs

I am sure I’ll figure it out but moments like today don’t help. I am referring to car repairs.

Today was pretty simple, it was just a new battery but it was the latest in a string of repairs on the cars. New hoses, radiator, battery, belts and an assortment of this and that.

I am a writer but my name isn’t Stephen King or JK Rowling. The major book deals haven’t rolled in…yet. The faucet is dripping and not quite turned on full bore so the cash that comes is in dribs and drabs.

Maybe I’ll get lucky and see the flood sooner than later.

In the interim I suppose I’ll spend some time thinking about who I am and who I want to be.

Be The Blogger You Want To Be

In regard to blogging I am focused on being the blogger I want to be and I strongly encourage you to be do the same. If you aren’t doing this for yourself and you aren’t having fun you won’t last.

Be the blogger you want to be. That is all.

 

Stream of Consciousness Sunday- The %#$@^$@@ Car

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Push Up Bars
Push Up Bars (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

My daughter wants to know if I feel old because she says I am closer to 50 than I am to 30. I laugh and tell her that I won’t be middle aged when I am 50 and that I’ll still be faster and stronger than everyone.

Her older brother tells me that he believes I will be stronger but doesn’t see faster because you don’t have the same kind of speed at 50 that you do when you are younger.

I don’t tell him he is right even though I know that. I just tackle him and we start wrestling. My boy is getting to be so damn big. He is 8o some pounds of muscle and the day is coming when he is going to be too much for me to deal with. It is going to be a long way off, but I know this to be true.

I celebrate and dread that day. Maybe it is because I am 240 pounds of 5 year old or maybe it is because I have been doing a boatload of push ups. I am getting stronger every day and I celebrate that too.

Maybe I am not 19, my jeans can attest to that but I can still throw the weights around pretty good and the muscle remembers.

One of the cars decided to mutiny today. The #%^&^#%t car must know when I have paid all the bills and in between checks. It was a bad time  for this to happen but that is how it goes.

I keep looking at finances, wondering how the hell I am going to pay for a Bar Mitzvah, but I’ll find a way. I always do. I may not have any hair left but damn I will find a way.

I need to update the story I am working on over here. I have a bunch of ideas but not enough time to work on it.

Time is my best friend and my worst enemy. I feel like I am the kid I was in college but I don’t see that endless highway I used to see any more. Sometimes I am ok with that and sometimes I hate it.

I would write more but my five minutes is up. Besides I am going to come back later and write at least three more posts on my blogs. This is what I am supposed to be doing with my life. I am a writer and these posts are just like the warm up I do before I start lifting.

Five Things I Know About Writing

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  1. It is not hard to write but it is exceptionally difficult to edit.
  2. The best writers are voracious readers.
  3. Great characters have layers. They are flawed.
  4. There are rules that you must follow.
  5. Break the damn rules…repeatedly.

You might be surprised to learn that I write these posts for myself as much as I write them for you. That is because even though I feel like I am a competent writer I am convinced that I have room for substantial growth and improvement.

Part of that is predicated upon my ability to pull back the curtain and find out what sorts of tricks the wizard uses to make his magic. The most obvious one to me is that I produce enormous amounts of content in a variety of styles for the sole purpose of trying to get better.

Writing is a skill and like any other it is something that practice can help us improve upon. But I have to tell you that I get as frustrated by writing as you do.

There are more than a few moments where I read my words and wonder what the hell I am doing and why people read them. I try to remind myself to follow the advice you see here and produce content that is useful, practical and actionable.

I respond to prompts like those found in the Write on Edge, Yeah Write and Just Write communities because that is a place where I have found others who are trying their hand out at this writing business.

Community makes a difference as does honesty.

I share certain things with you because I think you will relate and that perhaps it will help us grow together. And I do it because I teach my children to act in a similar fashion and it would be hypocritical not to follow my own advice.

 

Just WriteThat is my motto. Tune out the infernal voice of the internal editor and just write. Put pen to paper and let the words flow.

I don’t always hit a home run but I feel good about things because I think I am making progress. I think my writing has progressively gotten stronger and that I am better at this than I was when I started.

That is growth and reward with incentive standing just over the horizon.

What about you? Do you feel like your writing is getting better? Do you care about it? Does it matter to you? It is ok if it doesn’t, but since I know some of my fellow scribes are hanging out here I figure I might as well ask.

P.S. This story is mostly fiction.

Silver Bracelets

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40+117 Sucka Punch!

You never want to look back upon your day while sitting handcuffed in the back of a squad car and wonder how it could have gone to hell so quickly.

That is the kind of story that someone else should tell. It is the kind of thing that you never want to remember because it never happened to you, but sometimes lightning strikes and things happen.

It was a day that had started out with much promise. My girlfriend decided to wake me up in a most memorable way and had it stayed that way it would have been a very good day indeed.

I remember staring at the ceiling with a big grin plastered across my face. If she had asked me to marry her at that moment in spite of my young age I most assuredly would have.

Heck I would have said yes to almost anything she asked but then the universe in its esteemed wisdom decided that I had used up all of the pleasure I was entitled to that day.

Our moment was interrupted by a loud bang and many tears. Decorum won’t allow me to describe exactly what happened when she was startled but suffice it to say that my own tears were almost shed then too.

You see the interruption was created by the entrance of my girlfriend’s best friend and roommate. Her name was Sally Jo but at that particular moment I might have called her $#Q%$@T%.

Her fiance had just dumped her and that little kerfuffle was the reason why she felt entitled to come flying into the room.

I know this might sound selfish, but I was less than pleased to see her and not just because I was hurt in the process. However I was smart enough not to ask her to step outside and wait.

Baby, I am really sorry. I hope I didn’t hurt you. I promise I’ll make it up to you tonight, but she needs me now.

No problem. I’ll shower at my place. Call me when you finish your chem lab and we’ll get dinner.

She didn’t wait for an answer and as I walked out the door she headed over to the other bedroom.
Moments later the day continued its unexpected assault upon my smile. A $50 parking ticket graced my windshield.

In between curses I thanked my hormones for leading me to this blessed place of blue balls, parking tickets and whatever else was to come.

The night before we had been too frantic to get upstairs to worry about street cleaning. My focus had been on getting busy and not reading parking signs.

That lack of focus was about to bite me in the ass again.

It was Tuesday morning and my group was supposed make a presentation in Professor Markowitz’s marketing class in ten minutes.

Markowitz was a stickler for time and for appearance. He lectured us on what life would be like in the business world and said that people didn’t respect the unshaven, baseball cap wearing slobs who couldn’t be bothered to show up for work on time.

Our group was slated to go first and there was no way to go home and get to class in time.

As expected Markowitz made a point to mark me down for my attire. Be thankful that you aren’t my employee because I wouldn’t tolerate this sort of insubordination from you.

The points he took off were the difference between an A and a B.

I was in a very bad mood when I left class so I went straight to the gym. Halfway through my workout I ran into several of my girlfriend’s and her roommates sorority sisters.

Maybe it was my own paranoia but I know girls talk about everything and I could have sworn they were pointing and laughing at me.

I might have gotten stuck trying to figure that out but my buddy Doug distracted me.

“Dude, my roommates and I have a case of Heineken left over from our last party. Want to swing by and help me make some space in the refrigerator.”

I smiled again. I wouldn’t be much of a friend if I didn’t help you out in your time of need, now would I.

Two hours and a six pack later my attitude is much improved and I have forgotten the craziness of the morning.

Excuse me, got to drain the old weasel.

Doug gives me a glassy eyed smile and a thumbs up and I make my way to a bathroom that would have made my mother shriek in horror.

Doug, you obviously never have girls here because this kind of crap would never fly with them.

The guy in the mirror nods his head at me and laughs when I tell him he looks like he might be drunk.

Suddenly there is a loud crash and I hear Doug screaming for help. I don’t know what happened but it doesn’t matter. I am 205 pounds of semi inebriated college student.

Doug’s almost like a fraternity brother so I have to look out for him so when I see him getting smacked around by some guy I don’t wonder about who he is or why he is there.

He never sees me coming and I land a shot on him that knocks him right on his ass. He surprises me by getting right back up and coming at me.

Nor will I stop to question why a guy in a black uniform is pulling me off of this guy. I wish that I had because then I might have been smart enough not to hit him or his partner.

My only excuse is that they grabbed me from behind so I didn’t know who they were.

Later on I’ll stare at the ceiling only this time I am lying in a small room with a steel toilet and some drunk guy.

Some days it doesn’t pay to get out of bed.

Fear, Anger and Ego

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lug

Many of you know stories about The Big Lug whose countenance looks out at us. If you are among the 17 long time readers you might even remember when I wrote about the final goodbye.

I mention him because there are moments where I really miss talking with him. You won’t find a better listener or someone less judgmental. Of course it wasn’t always easy dealing with the beast who at 150 pounds still thought of himself as a lapdog.

Yet it was a small price to pay to have his counsel and to share the moments with. Today was a day where I realize I could have used him. It would have been good to talk to him about Fear, Anger and Ego.

Not Quite The Four Horsemen of The Apocalypse

Fear, Anger and Ego aren’t what you would call the four horsemen of the apocalypse. They are just three things that have been on my mind or should I say they are tied into many things that are on my mind.

Those three feelings are wrapped up in why I want to compete in the race I wrote about and why I want to do The Ironman. The hard truth is that I am not even close to being in the kind of shape I need to be in.

It hurts to look in the mirror and see what has become of me. My ego is bothered and bruised. I feel like I let my children down with this, but more importantly I let myself down.

That is not to say it is impossible to get back in shape because it is not- but it is not like it used to be. My 43 year-old body refuses to respond the way it used to and it irks me to no end.

All it used to take was a minor change in diet and some extra effort with the weights and things changed quickly. That is not happening like it used to so I suppose you could say I am afraid that I am going to find out that there is something wrong and I can’t do it.

But anger talks and it feeds my fire. When I let that sort of anger run through me I am able to push through some of the sets and things begin to move and to happen- so maybe fear has no place.

The Little Voices

The little voices of insecurity that have arrived are new to me. I am not used to it. I am a confident man and always have been, but there are other things that have happened that have made me question this and that.

Fear, Anger and Ego play a role there too. Fear makes me wonder if maybe I am missing something and whatever it is has created a block that it making trouble for me.

Fear makes me wonder if maybe it is obvious and I just can’t see it.

Anger berates me for my inability to figure out what should be obvious. I am not a stupid man so why do I not see it. Why can’t I figure it out.

Ego pats me on the back and advises me to just relax because I have always found a way and I will again- but those little voices keep murmuring.

lug

Those soft brown eyes and that massive head are here twice. That’s because this is what I would have talked to him about. I wouldn’t have been cryptic or oblique. I would have shared it all and then we would have gone for a run or a walk.

Hell, maybe he would have chosen to wrestle and we would have loved it.

If the Big Lug were still here I would have told him that I am still blogging and that sometimes I focus on being a dad blogger but I am working towards other things too.

I would have told him that I feel the clock ticking and that in spite of these voices my gut still says it will all work out. I would have told him about all that I have learned and talked to him about how I chose a harder path.

We would have talked about my children are thriving and how many good things exist because things are hard now but that is not a synonym for impossible or hopeless.

This is just the transition and it so happens I am scaling part of the mountain by myself. It is a temporary thing, but it is what it is right now.

I am just trying to do my best to make sure that Fear, Anger and Ego aren’t my sole companions.

This was part of Just Write #51.