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 2014

Apple’s You Moan While iWatch Is Exceptional

by 7 Comments

E550 with telescope finder
The new Apple iWatch while you moan is destined to be one of their best selling products. Call me what you will but I have a hard time believing I am the only person who hears iWatch and thinks of a different sort of product than the one Apple is selling.

Don’t know about you but when I hear people gush about the iWatch and Apple products in general it reminds me of how people go crazy about bacon. I like bacon but I am not one of those people who wants to populate my home with a plethora of products that smell or taste like bacon.

That is the sort of thing that makes me want to start selling Bacon Products That Don’t Taste Like Bacon. If you know me well you know I am the guy who thinks about How To Use 5000 Pounds of Bananas To Terrorize Noisy Neighbors.

Or maybe I am just the guy who loves to write and has fun coming up with all sorts of different headlines and topics like A Dad Blogger Teaches You To Cook the Perfect Steak- A Post People Will Read.

Yeah, I have been pumping out posts that are populated with links to older posts quite a bit lately, but that is because these posts are like my kids and I don’t play favorites. The older guys need a chance to catch some fresh air and be read again, wouldn’t be fair to just keep them buried now would it.

Brands, Businesses and They Stories they/we Tell

I spend a ton of time thinking about storytelling. I think about the stories brands/businesses tell as well as the ones we as people share. Good stories fascinate me which is probably part of why I spend so much time thinking about what stories to share here.

Some of them are pure fiction  and some are filled with more truth than is comfortable to think about.

Most days my favorite way to write is with a set of headphones on and music that moves me accompanying the pounding of the keys. Today Toby Keith is playing Bullets in The Gun and the words are flying from my fingertips.

I like Toby because most of his songs tell a story and his videos do too. Reminds me of being a kid and the days when we were supposed to shout I Want My MTV!

*****

Been through a half dozen interviews the past few days. Spent ample time being asked to analyze campaigns, offer thoughtful criticism and or commentary about the ways people do business and done my best to dance in the fire and not fall in the flames.

That is my way of acknowledging that although I am unfiltered in my personal life I am filtered in my professional. That is because I don’t have enough cash in the bank to retire. Can’t waltz through the office without any regard for the consequences of my actions and that is something I think about more often than I used to.

Probably because I spend so much time writing copy and or helping out with social media efforts. We live during a time when people actively hope brands will make a mistake. They look for the misguided tweet, the Facebook flop and or Google gaffe.

It doesn’t take much for the villagers to grab their torches and pitchforks and storm the castles. I sometimes wonder how much rage is real and how much is manufactured.

We live during unforgiving times. It is part of why I caution my children to be careful about what they do and how they do it online.

It is not just because of the digital footprints they may leave for discovery for later but because we have to be prepared for what happens today.

Ask the PR professionals about the crisis communication plans they have created just in case the CEO or another company representative says/does something offensive and or stupid.

*****

I look at my stats and see some of the people I have spoken with have come to the blog to visit. Some of them are actively poking around to see what is here and I can’t help but wonder what they think.

Have they found golden nuggets of goodness that make them think I am a creative force for good that must be part of their team or do they see signs of decay. Do they read posts and wonder what the hell is going on with this guy?

Ultimately I shrug my shoulders. I am not here to be all things to all people. No one can do that and I am not interested in it. I am at my best when I am partly reserved and not conflicted about what I can or cannot do.

It is exciting this moment in time. There is an electrical charge running through me and I feel energized, changes are coming.

Should make for some good stories, time will tell.

The Piper Is Calling You To Join Him

by Leave a Comment

“Your head is humming and it won’t go, in case you don’t know,
The piper’s calling you to join him,
Dear lady, can you hear the wind blow, and did you know
Your stairway lies on the whispering wind?” Stairway To Heaven

The music is playing and the tune I am hearing grows louder and stronger. I sense the need to include bits and pieces from other posts and that if I do a proper job there might be one hell of a story to tell and or share here.

So consider this me running with the moon and the words that follow my attempt to weave together a tapestry that tells the tale I want to tale and perhaps the one you want to read.

******

Won’t be long before the Traveling Jack takes to the skies again. I feel it in my bones. Got so much to do and see and the changes keep on rolling. I keep working hard to take care of a million different tasks and am interrupted a million different times.

These interruptions are irritating and I am growing really impatient.

Some might say that the universe is trying to get my attention. I would answer by saying that I keep telling Joe Universe that I am listening. Got a cellphone, land line, Twitter, FB account and 25 email accounts. It is not hard to find me.

Someone tell the Scarecrow to ring the Tin Woodsman and the Lion because I am ready to start walking again. Can’t keep listening to the tick tocking of the clock- got to move…

******

I feel like I am stuck on that Yellow Brick Road except I know that the wizard is just a man and any flying monkey that is foolish enough to mess me with me will find itself permanently grounded.

Another day in which I stare at the face in the mirror and find myself shocked when he talks back to me. That dude with the thousand mile stare and the bad attitude tells me that I am in control of everything and nothing. He says that it is up to me to make it happen and that I have nothing and no one to blame because no one cares.

He is right you know, no one cares about the excuses we make for why things don’t happen.  We all have our cross to bear and troubles to share. That doesn’t mean that I think that no one cares or that no one can offer a helping hand because that is not what I see or think.

I know from experience that if you ask for help you can find it. It might not always be what you want or even what you need. Part of that is because we don’t always know what that need is. And if you combine that with the way that some people refuse to ask for help you have a recipe for a little bit more chaos and confusion than you might like.

“I believe we have two lives: the one we learn with, and the one we live with after that.” Iris Gaines From The Natural

The headline should be changed to sometimes Bloggers Are Insecure because that is more accurate. It reflects the truth or maybe it reflects my truth.

Sometimes when I don’t receive many shares or comments I suffer from Blog Envy and Tweet Esteem issues. Most of the time I don’t care because I love what I am doing too much not to do it.

This place you are visiting, it is my refuge and my salvation. There is so much joy in the journey I can’t properly express what it means to me.

I can tell you about how I became a writer, stopped and then started again. I can tell you about how blogging has helped put me back on track to what I am supposed to do with my life.

I am a writer.

This is what I am supposed to do. These words you read are magic and are taking me too places I only imagined.

Thirty years ago I wanted nothing more than to be an outfielder for the Dodgers. I was good. I led the league in home runs. No one had a better arm than I did. I threw out a boy at home plate.

I still remember scooping up the ball in center field and firing it home. It was perfect. He slid right into the tag.

Everybody’s Got Something To Hide Except Me And My Monkey

Ever hear of this band called The Beatles? Once upon a time they were considered to be pretty special. Do you think people criticized them for using that last subhead as the title of a song.

Did people go running Helter-Skelter because they couldn’t find Sgt. Pepper to tell him about the fool on the hill or the guy who said he was the walrus.

Maybe.

Not unlike most people I am on a journey, a spiritual quest of sorts and I feel like I am doing the two steps forwards, one step backwards dance. It is sort of an awkward and ugly shuffle but I am not built for grace.

That is ok with me because I know who I am and what I am about. I have a goal in mind and a general idea for how to get there. That is my way of saying I see the spot on the mountaintop I want to reach but I don’t see the fucking trail.

Not that it makes much difference, I walk, I hike and I climb. Doesn’t much matter whether there is a path or not because while I may not climb like a monkey or mountain goat I get where I am going.

I suppose some of you are going to scratch your heads with this one. Some of you are going to wonder if The Mad Hatter is going to show up. Some of you are going to wonder if you’ll ever see the five minutes you just lost again, but not all of you.

That is because some of you will understand the parts and pieces. Some of will follow what it means to run with the moon and to feel like you are on a quest.

I Stopped Trying To Figure It Out

One of my favorite things about blogging is that it provides a venue for me to just dump out the contents of my head. Think of it as a giant closet that is being emptied so that the contents may be sifted and sorted.

That is sort of what this post is. It is a collection of fragments of old posts and some thoughts. It is me turning over the toy chest and trying to decide which toys are worth keeping and which need to find new homes.

When I stopped to trying to figure it all out and stopped trying to control everything life got much more interesting and more enjoyable. Now I am like Huck and Tom rafting down the Mighty Mississippi.

Or maybe it is more appropriate to say I feel like I am surfing a giant wave and instead of fighting the ocean I am going with it. There is joy in the journey, all you need to do is look for it.

BTW, if you are interested in the posts that were used for this one you can check out:

I don’t have all of the answers I have been looking for, but I have found more than a few. I feel a bit like Indiana Jones and though I am sitting at a keyboard it doesn’t mean I don’t wear the hell out of a fedora or am any less capable of using this bull whip.

Can’t tell you what chapter I am on, but I know there is a lot left in this story and I hope you continue to share it with me.

It’s The Dumbest Way To Get Arrested

by 8 Comments

Death Watermelon
I am beginning to wonder if I should be allowed to walk freely among people or if perhaps I need to wear a sign that warns people that I my bite is worse than my bark.

You’d think that a guy who wrote “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” would be cautious about how he behaved in public.

Surely he wasn’t interested in wearing a pair of silver bracelets again. You’d think he wouldn’t want to explain to another judge how it is not his fault he got into another fight.

It wasn’t worth getting arrested for beating a man with a salami. Sure it makes for a great story but when you realize that it is not the only tale of you engaging in fisticuffs you have to accept that people begin to question your self control.

You can try to distract them with 69 Reasons Why Fathers Make Better Lovers but eventually you touch upon the time you beat up a surly, drunk and horny clown at a birthday party and people wonder if maybe you have self control issues.

Can’t blame them for asking, especially when you talk about blogging without shame.

It’s The Dumbest Way To Get Arrested

If you ask me to pull a card from any deck I can promise you I am going to pull the Joker every time. Can’t tell you if it is good luck or a curse because there is enough black in my ledge to balance the red.

But then again that is what it looked like before this last incident.

The only thing I hate more than food shopping is doing it in a crowd which is why I chose to hit my local establishment for a couple of beers and some wings.

I figured by the time the game ended the grocery store would be mostly empty and I was mostly right. Mostly because I chose to hit the produce department at the same time as a group of college boys did.

Don’t ask me to explain why they were staring at the lettuce and checking out the melons and not buying beer because I don’t get it either.

I can’t explain that any better than I can tell how two of them and I started exchanging artillery fire in the aisles. What I can tell you is that if you ever get into it in the store don’t try throwing cantaloupes at your adversary, especially if he is me.

That is because I can throw green apples harder, faster and more accurately than you can. If you are smart you’ll take cover or if you are young, dumb and stupid you’ll let me come at you and eventually I will use a pile of watermelon’s to destroy you.

You can’t imagine how dumb you’ll look after you get hit by several 8 pound melons.

The thing you have to remember is that eventually someone is going to call the police because you are fighting in the market. Said police will come and give you silver bracelets and you’ll think that a watermelon war is the dumbest way to get arrested.

Later On

Later on your public defender will ask you to explain yourself so he can provide an adequate defense and you’ll quote Sean Connery’s character in The Untouchables.

Malone: You wanna know how to get Capone? They pull a knife, you pull a gun. He sends one of yours to the hospital, you send one of his to the morgue. *That’s* the *Chicago* way! And that’s how you get Capone. Now do you want to do that? Are you ready to do that? I’m offering you a deal. Do you want this deal?

And then your PD will look cross eyed at you and you’ll try to explain that you were minding your own business and that it started when these other guys made fun of you dancing.

When your PD asks what you were dancing to you’ll say you started with Paul Revere by The Beastie Boys and explain that what really set you off was when Barry Manilow’s Weekend In New England came on.

The PD will ask why that song is on your phone and instead of giving him a civil answer you’ll jump across the table and start slapping him because you think he questioned your masculinity.

And when push comes to shove you’ll admit that maybe you lack impulse control but demand that you aren’t charged with assault because you are entitled to defend your person and your taste in music.

Epilogue

My shrink says I shouldn’t talk about these moments in the third person because it makes it easier for me to disconnect and not be accountable. I told him that he shouldn’t talk to me that way and he asked if I was going to hurt him too.

I told him talking like that was a good way to get a beating and he kept doing it so I proved I am a man of my word. I don’t think my Freud wannabe will do that again.

Editor’s Note: This was 32 minutes of flash fiction I wrote just for the heck of it. I have never been arrested or beaten anyone up with fruit or processed meat.

Nobody Reads Dad Blogs Anymore

by 10 Comments

How We Roll - 52 Stories - Pt 1

Not long ago I was given the pleasure of encountering the Bloggers Are Narcissists mom…again. If you haven’t had the pleasure or time to read that post let me share a couple of choice excerpts:

“Are you coaching soccer this year Jack?” I nodded my head and asked if he was. “I am. We have a really good team this year, I think we’ll be undefeated.”  That is the kind of talk that makes me laugh. I probably shouldn’t have responded but the surgery to remove the filters from my mouth was successful. “I have always wanted to be the coach of an undefeated team of eight year-old girls.”

and

“Really I could write one hell of a post about being targeted by the mean girl collective.

It would give me a good excuse to tell you about how I told one of the husbands that I am not intimidated by a “lick it around the edges girl” and her husband “ride me Sheldon.” But as you can see I don’t need an excuse to work that into the story nor do I need to fabricate a reason to tell you that he told me that some people are fucked and others are fuckers. If I did I would have to relate the entire tale of my snottiness including the part where I told him that I don’t engage in pissing contests with men who don’t wear an extra large condom.

Sadly that has to be among the worst insults I have ever been given the opportunity to use. Really, it is embarrassing and I should strike that from the public record.”

“Nobody reads dad blogs anymore.”

Don’t ask me what led to this proclamation because I didn’t ask. I don’t think the woman has a clue that I am a blogger and I see no reason to tip her off and it is not because I am afraid of her opinion or any repercussions either. I just don’t like her and have no interest in spending more time with her than I have to.

Still I must admit that I was mildly curious what dad blogs she may or may not have been reading. I say may or may not because I am not sure if she can read.

I am not a professional but my guess is the Bloggers Are Narcissists mom hasn’t figured out there is no correlation between IQ and how much money you have in the bank. Nor has she realized yet that she is a big fish in a small pond and that outside of her bubble she has very little influence.

Of Fathers And Daughters

The reason I know her is because there was a time when our children attended the same school and played on the same soccer team. I won’t bore you with the long sordid tale about how this went but I’ll say that it grinds on me sometimes because I feel like my daughter was mistreated.

It grinds on me because it happened when I was gone and that is hard for me.

The move to Texas was absolutely the right thing  to do. It was important, necessary, significant and I have no regrets about having done it. In the short term it was hard but in the long term we’ll see great benefits from it.

However it meant that when the nasty mom and her cohorts came down on my daughter I wasn’t around to help manage things. That is not to say no one stood up for her because her mom and grandparents did.

I have no doubt about them doing a good job or of their being fierce because I was part of the email communications that went back and forth.

But I also know that her former coach is both a chauvinist and a prick. It might not have changed things but if I had been face to face with him…

Or maybe it is a good thing I wasn’t. I teach my children about the importance of working things out calmly and civilly so maybe it’s good they didn’t see me tell him how little I think of him.

Fathers look out for their daughters and their sons. It is important for me to make sure my kids know I have their backs…always.

But Maybe It is True That Nobody Reads Dad Blogs

Had a short conversation with my son the other day about some things that are happening at school. He tells me about how some of the kids talk about what is normal and what isn’t.

It leads to a conversation about how much of our perception of what is normal is fueled by where and how we grow up. It is so easy to get caught up in our lives and forget that what we think is routine may not be that way for others.

My experience shows it happens with both adults and kids.

The point is we tend to classify normal as being the habits and practices of the people we spend the majority of our time with. If those people read blogs and talk about it we might think everyone does.

Same is true if they don’t.

Maybe it is self serving for me to say so, but in my bubble dad blogs are active, vital and popular. But don’t tell the Bloggers Are Narcissists mom that because I’d hate to pop her bubble and expose her to reality.

5 Posts & 5 Songs

by 2 Comments

Blacksmith at Work - Colonial Williamsburg
If I had been born in a different time and or place I think I might have been a Blacksmith. There is something about it that attracts me, metal, fire, will and hard work all melding together to make something special and useful out of disparate parts.

Writing reminds me of it.

It is a puzzle composed of letters, words and pictures. We work hard to do more than just place the pieces. Each moment is part of an effort to do as Coach Lombardi pushed for, to chase perfection and hope to achieve excellence.

This afternoon I present you with 5 songs and 5 posts:

  1. Those Three Words
  2. Where The Streets Have No Name
  3. The Right Words Written Right Write Their Own Tales
  4. Goodbye Grandma
  5. Grandpa

And now 5 Songs:

  1. Reflections of My Life- Marmalade
  2. Livin’ Thing- Electric Light Orchestra
  3. Reelin’ In the Years- Steely Dan
  4. Out Among the Stars- Johnny Cash
  5. Wasn’t Born To Follow- The Byrds

See you in the comments or around cyberspace.

What Is The Value Of Fatherly Advice?

by 3 Comments

The Thinker
Bet this gorilla knows a thing or two.

They don’t give awards to 45 year-old men who can outrun 17 year-old boys but that is ok because for a moment I almost felt like I had turned back the clock.

Don’t misunderstand this to suggest all of my self esteem is caught up in the physical because it is not. All it takes is a look in the mirror to confirm that but it doesn’t mean that the competitive fire that burns inside my belly has been extinguished or that I can’t be proud of that.

Nor does it mean that I think I can beat every 17 year-old kid I encounter but it is nice to know that for a moment in time I still have it, whatever it is.

Been working with  or maybe through a few things the past month or so.

You see I got laid off and have been in the process of transitioning to the next rung on the Steiner career ladder.

The firm thanked me for my work, shook my hand and told me to use them as a reference and reminded me to join the LinkedIn alumni group.

I was a contract employee so I can’t say it came from out of the blue. I knew that there was a chance they wouldn’t convert me and that I might be on the market again, but I hoped it wouldn’t happen for a while.

Dad’s A Free Agent…Again

After I got the news I called my dad and suggested we get lunch.  We grabbed a few sandwiches and just before he gave me his fatherly advice I told him I wanted something better this time around.

He laughed and told me not to sweat it.

“Things aren’t like they were when I was your age. So you lost your job, you’ll get another.”

“Dad, you are getting soft in your old age. The guy who raised me would have told me to take a hard look at myself and figure out if I shared any responsibility for what happened. ”

He nodded again and laughed.

“Shit happens and it is not always logical, reasonable or related to you. You know that. I have faith in you, you’ll figure it out.”

I do which is why I didn’t argue or pursue that avenue any further. Wasn’t anything to be gained by complaining so we talked about the grandchildren and I told him I was going to try to move back to Texas.

“Cost of living is a lot less than here. LA will always be home but I need to make some changes.”

He nodded his head and told me it made sense.

Rolling With The Punches

Most days I am relatively relaxed about the change in status. Part of it is because I have complete faith that I will find something sooner than later and that it is going to be better than what I had.

Ask me to explain why I believe it and I’ll tell you it is based upon my skill set, work experience and experience but the truth is the real source of this is a gut feeling.

Gut feelings used to make me a bit nervous because I liked to rely upon what I could taste, touch and feel but this time around I have a different approach and attitude.

I keep reading and thinking about these words that Ralph Waldo Emerson shared in his essay on Self Reliance:

“There is a time in every man’s education when he arrives at the conviction that envy is ignorance; that imitation is suicide; that he must take himself for better, for worse, as his portion; that though the wide universe is full of good, no kernel of nourishing corn can come to him but through his toil bestowed on that plot of ground which is given to him to till. The power which resides in him is new in nature, and none but he knows what that is which he can do, nor does he know until he has tried. “

“What I must do is all that concerns me, not what the people think. This rule, equally arduous in actual and in intellectual life, may serve for the whole distinction between greatness and meanness. It is the harder, because you will always find those who think they know what is your duty better than you know it. It is easy in the world to live after the world’s opinion; it is easy in solitude to live after our own; but the great man is he who in the midst of the crowd keeps with perfect sweetness the independence of solitude.”

What Comes Next

I can’t tell you exactly what comes next but I can tell you that I am doing my best to follow my guy and find a position that speaks to my heart and enables me to really do what I do best.

Whatever it is writing is going to be a part of it and so will unleashing a much larger portion of my creativity. Watch out world, I am on the loose.

After we finished eating lunch I walked out to my car and heard Seasons Of Love from the Rent soundtrack playing and just smiled. Intermixed with the lyrics I could hear my father telling me he had faith I would figure it out. It made me smile and I wondered if we ever reach a place where that sort of praise from our parents doesn’t warm our hearts.

And then I made a silent promise to my children to do my best to give them the same gift.