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 April 2015

What Happens When Your Ass Surrenders?

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If you visit my home I promise I will offer you food and drink because it is how I was raised. Guests are treated with respect, unless they happen to the kind of obnoxious morons who deserve to be fed Ex-Lax brownies.

This blog is my cyber home so I can’t really feed you but I can show you pictures of food and tell you I am sorry you can’t eat it.

It is sort of like having a wish sandwich. You know the kind of sandwich where you have two pieces of bread and wish you had some meat to put in between them.

I spent some time trying to fix some odds and ends around the blog and got lost in the archives. Some of that was because I read some old post and some because I was trying to fix the layout so it would look better.

As I sifted through the old material I saw how I had run I Had A Dream twice. The first was in October 2005 and the second was in 2006.

Back then I didn’t know much about SEO and I never worried about duplicate content. Thought about whether I should nuke one and decided I wanted to keep it so I added a photo.

And then I remembered a story I wrote on the other blog called The Dream that was sort of tied into that original post and mulled over whether I should connect the two in some way.

What Happens When Your Ass Surrenders?

That is not a euphemism, it is tied into Excuse me, There is Toilet Paper Stuck To Your Tuchus.

Once upon a time there was an audio post attached to that in which I described an incident at my gym where I looked up at the wrong time and saw a naked man walk through the locker room with toilet paper attached to his butt.

Sorry, sometimes you have to share the ugly images. 🙂

Anyhoo when the audiopost was attached to the post I wrote about it the line below worked and it made people laugh.

This is also known as “Excuse me, I think that your ass just surrendered. It is waving the white flag.

Sadly the audio was lost so we can’t enjoy the tale together nor will you get to hear some of the fabulous old audio posts that used to live here.

The Beauty of Blogging

The archives here are part of what I call the beauty of blogging. There are some goofy stories in there and posts that I hate to see again because I think the writing is awful.

There are some goofy stories in there and posts that I hate to see again because I think the writing is awful.

But there are also some very good memories that I had forgotten about. There are moments in my children’s lives that I had forgotten about but thanks to the posts I wrote I got a chance to revisit them.

I like that, especially now because the boy who was 3.5 when I started is going to turn 15 this year.

Some of the funny things he used to say and do are safely ensconced here. My memory is good, but there is too much to keep track of and this joint you are visiting helps secure things from escaping from a leaky brain.

Walk through the archives and you get to enjoy other nonsense too, like the Dad Blogger Link Bait- The List You Wish You Were On and then you remember the more things change the more they stay the same.

When we do it right, this blogging thing provides us with a snapshot of a moment in time and some of those are worth experiencing again.

On the other hand others are less so, there is not eye bleach to make me forget the dude from the gym. There are worst things, but that doesn’t mean I have to like remembering. 🙂

One More Thing About The Archives

I still haven’t finished cleaning up the archives the way I want to but I’ll figure it out.

I have been thinking about them for a different reason than just to make them look good and work well.

When I moved to a single column look and killed the sidebar I removed the recent content widget and some of the other tools I used to try and encourage readers to read more than one post.

So I have been trying to figure out a good way to help people see some of the older material here too. I’ll save those thoughts for a different time, that teenager I mentioned earlier needs some help from dear old dad.

See you in the comments.

The Lies Bloggers Tell

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Mulled over whether I wanted to make this a funny post but the funny words weren’t flowing from the fingers and I didn’t feel like making funny faces to use for pictures.

So instead you’ll get a link to a fine old post called Cheaper Than A $5 Whore With Less Risk of Infection and some commentary that is worth far more than the $5 quoted above.

A few of the fellas and some of the ladies asked me if I could tell them about publishing on Huffpo and were shocked because I said they haven’t ever asked me to submit anything nor have I ever tried.

One suggested it was a huge mistake on my part and when I said I prefer to be paid for my work they told me I was being ridiculous and that anyone who wants to be a professional writer is published there.

They couldn’t see me roll my eyes at that remark. I thought it short sighted, provincial, mean spirited and wrong. Then for good measure I stamped my feet and screamed that I am a professional writer.

Ok, I didn’t stamp my feet because that is silly. I don’t need to be published in Huffpo to feel like a professional writer because I have been published and paid for my work many times.

But I haven’t accomplished all I want to professionally and I sometimes wonder if a Huffpo byline or two would make a significant impact.

Is There A Huffpo Bounce Rate?

Some of the people I know who have been published there say it has led to a ton of new followers, readers and subscribers.

I don’t doubt that to be true but I wonder about the bounce rate. How many of those new people stick around for more than a short while?

I know from my stats that I have all sorts of subscribers to this blog who are signed up via email, RSS or WordPress but I see very few of them comment.

That might be because commenting is down in general or because they aren’t the kind of bloggers who leave comments on other blogs.

Or it might be they signed up for a bunch of blogs and they don’t read all they signed up for. I subscribe to a bunch of magazines and no matter what I do I find a short stack on my desk that remind me I have more reading material than time.

Or maybe it is more accurate to say those magazines I don’t get to don’t provide enough value for me to consistently make time for them.

People might say that about our blogs.

Some people tell me they read my posts but that sometimes they just can’t figure out what to say so they don’t say anything.

The Lonely Blogger
Those words keep bouncing around inside my head more than I would like. That pinball wizard keeps banging away at the bumpers and the ball keeps setting off the lights, beeps and whistles.

It is because I am wrestling with what has to be done and what must be done. I am wrestling with what my heart desires and with what is required.

Perhaps the two will intersect but I can’t quite see it with the clarity I want and I am concerned.

Concerned because I am too damn old to mess around with the crap I don’t want to do. It feels peculiar to say that because I don’t consider myself to be old.

So maybe it is best to say I am old enough to have enough experience to know what is right for me and what isn’t.

Fear and uncertainty are driving part of this.

I intentionally set out to chart a new course and sail new seas and am afraid I am being sent back to where I have been.

It is one thing to double back when you feel like the sun you look at has barely risen and another to look at the sky and see the sun is dead center or gasp, a hair to the right of it.

I tried to use it as a teaching moment. Told my son that sometimes we do what is required because we have to and for no other reason but it left a bitter and metallic taste in my mouth.

What Kind Of Writer Are You?

Someone asked me what kind of writer I want to be and I said the kind you read.

They told me that wasn’t an answer so I said I want to be the kind of writer that can make any topic interesting and every story interesting.

Maybe I should have said I want to be the kind of writer that Huffpo wants to write for them. The kind they chase because he is too damn snooty to submit his own work.

Writing is a funny art because the measure for what is good, great and awful is subjective.

Some of you will love these words and some will hate them while others will find a nice fence to sit upon.

I’ll tell you a million times I’ll blog whether you read or not and say I don’t care if you like what I write but that is not entirely true either, now is it.

Sure I’ll write whether you read or comment but I’ll feel better when I get comments because it helps me measure whether my words make you feel anything. Helps me figure out if I am more effective than a baboon with a keyboard or some guy from the Valley.

How To Be Happy

I tell my kids the best way to be happy is to learn to be happy with what you have and to not compare yourself to others.

If you don’t like what you have got you need to figure it out and work it out. You want more than you have got you need to be prepared to work hard to go get it.

Most days I am good about following my own advice but there are those moments and right now I seem to be stuck in one of them.

An extended dream that is heading towards nightmare land. I keep trying to wake myself up only to remember I am not sleeping.

I look in the mirror and say this is not what I want. I promise to work hard to change it and do all that I can but the chain around my waist keeps dragging me back towards the cliff.

The weight of the past has already fallen over the side and I don’t want to follow it. I just want to let it go, let it rest.

What was is done and I want my fresh start.

I am blogger hear me roar.

I am not published in Huffpo does that mean my roar is actually a squeak.

Dumb Bloggers & Silly Fathers

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The man looked at me and asked a series of questions about my experience and then followed up with a request to share my two biggest weaknesses and my greatest strengths.

It is not the first time someone has asked me to answer these questions and I have several answers I can give but I pause intentionally because I don’t want it to appear too polished.

Even though my answers are authentic I want to try to lend more gravitas to them so I take a deep breath and share a story.

He nods his head and moves on to the next set of questions and I wonder if my answers were sufficient or if he is simply on autopilot.

Fifteen minutes go by and I am certain he is happy with my answers or this would be over but that doesn’t negate the sense that he is not all there and I start wondering what would happen if I answer with movie quotes.

Perhaps we can revisit the whole greatest strength and biggest weakness bit so I can act out this scene from Real Genius:

Chris Knight: So, if there’s anything I can do for you – or, more to the point, *to* you – just let me know.
Susan: Can you hammer a six-inch spike through a board with your penis?
Chris Knight: Not right now.
Susan: A girl’s gotta have her standards.

I choose not to find out whether he is impressed by my ability to quote from movies and or share song lyrics that might be relevant because sometimes silence is the most useful resource we have at our disposal.

Hard Decisions & Easy Choices

I am stuck in traffic and thinking about the interview I just finished.

The bottom line is it went well and I am confident I have a very good shot at securing this position but I am still unsettled because even though I need the work this doesn’t feel quite right.

At best it is a bridge, just something to get by with and though there is no shame in that something about it bothers me.

The radio is off and all I have are my thoughts to keep me company when my mind decides I need to hear Everybody’s Talkin by Harry Nilsson.

For a moment I consider taking the next exit and heading to the ocean, if traffic isn’t bad I can be at the beach within 35 minutes.

Traffic is at a standstill so I have time to wonder if when I get there I’ll find a boat so I can make like Max and set sail for where the wild things are.

I would be happy to declare it time to let the wild rumpus begin.

My phone buzzes and I see my son is calling but I don’t take the call. I’ll be home soon enough and we’ll resume our conversation about the current middle school madness.

He’ll tell me about his frustrations with some things and I’ll remember that sometimes it is hard to be a teenager.

When he tells me what his friends advise him to do I’ll remind him it is easy for others to provide easy choices for how to handle our hard decisions.

“Be careful about taking advice from people who don’t have to live with the consequences of their advice.”

No Risk, No Reward

Somewhere in the midst of our conversation I’ll share the Teddy Roosevelt quote from above and supplement his words with my own and some from other people wiser than myself.

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When he asks me why I would contradict myself by sharing a quote dismissing quotations I tell him he needs to find the voice inside his head and heart and listen to it.

I tell him that it will help him figure out what the right thing to do is and that sometimes it means he’ll make a mistake.

He tells me he doesn’t want to cause more issues for himself and I tell him I understand but there is truth to “no risk and no reward.”

“Who says that dad?”

“Dumb bloggers and silly fathers.”

What Are You Going To Do?

I am back in the car trying to find that inner voice I spoke with my son about because I need to get a better handle on what I am doing.

People say to listen to our hearts and intuition and swear we can’t go wrong but I am having trouble buying into it.

Fear has crept inside my head and that little demon is doing his best to rally the troops. They want to release indecision and insecurity from their cages but I am fighting it.

Life is much easier when they are incarcerated.

The road doesn’t provide an epiphany or any revelations just the reminder that I can be the hero of my story and that I won’t know what could happen unless I take a chance.

What I fear most is letting fear push me into taking the easy path and going to down a path I already know so I remind myself that is unacceptable.

That inner voice cheers my decision and I think about explaining how I came to a decision by debating with a voice no one else but me can hear.

That ought to go over well.

Except the thing is, it really doesn’t have to be understood or approved by anyone other than me because this is one of those moments where I have to answer to myself.

One of those moments where I need to look in the mirror and know no matter how it shakes loose I did what was required because I am unwilling to live with the regret of not having taken a shot.

How Do You Recognize Windows Of Opportunity?

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The first step into your next adventure.

Some people say what is meant for you won’t go past you and others say that you cannot rely upon anyone or anything you cannot call on the telephone or get a cup of coffee with in person.

My own faith lies somewhere between the two because experience has taught me to do my best to act as the conductor of my life while life has proven that sometimes shit happens.

Even if I didn’t have my personal list of odd and unusual things that have happened to me or people I know I would still be cautious because the Internet has made it simple to watch and witness the bizarre, impossible, improbable and unusual.

Don’t believe me?

Ever watch any of the Failblog videos?

Fathers & Sons

I am a sentimental guy which is part of why I enjoy thinking about the past but I am also pragmatic and recognize that you can’t look backwards if it prevents you from moving forwards.

That doesn’t mean I have never spent a moment shaking my head about decisions I have made because it has happened more than once.

And though I want to say it won’t ever happen again I can guarantee there will be more moments where I wonder what the hell I was thinking.

Let’s all hope there are fewer of those and more moments where I smile because I look at what I have done and know I nailed it.

A couple of days before our seder I sat down with my dad and had a short conversation about the present and told him about my plans for the future and had to laugh because there was this Cat Steven’s Father and Son moment.

Or at least I thought it was going to be, you know one of those times where your parent looks at you and says ‘I told you so’ but I was wrong because it didn’t happen.

He smiled at me and said he was confident I’d figure it out.

I thanked him for the support and explained in detail about I feel like I blew some big opportunities several years back and why I don’t want to make the same mistake again.

‘Dad, you want to know how I know this bothers me. I am not sleeping and I never have trouble sleeping.”

How Do You Recognize Windows Of Opportunity?

Later that week I got to enjoy moving over from the son’s chair and into the dad’s seat because my son had questions for me.

My answers to him mirrored much of what my own father had said to me. I told him I was confident he would figure it out and that sometimes it is impossible to know what will happen in advance.

He asked me if that meant I would make us move and I said it might but I didn’t tell him how strong my desire to do so is.

I didn’t see any upside in doing so. He is a teenager and he doesn’t need to hear all of the stuff that bothers me about staying and why I would prefer not to.

One day we might discuss it, but not know.

So what we focused upon was trying to figure out how to recognize windows of opportunity, those moments where we have a chance to do something that might change our lives.

The funny thing is when I was younger I worried far more about taking one of those leaps because I liked being in my comfort zone and didn’t see much need to shake things up.

Might not have ever changed if life hadn’t happened and things hadn’t forced me to look for a new approach, but they did and I did.

Now I hate looking back at the moments where I didn’t take the chances I should have and do my best to ensure I don’t miss out on future events because of that fear.

Sometimes Change Is Good

I feel unsettled now.

Some of it is because the situation feels an awful lot like a poorly packed suitcase.

It is hard to carry because if you jostle the bag the contents inside slip and slop around making it unbalanced and awkward to move.

Some of it is because I have an idea about what I want to have happen. I see glimpses of a future that looks like it could be very promising.

What I can’t quite make out is if it resembles the echoes of the future I have thought of or if it is something entirely different.

Can’t say if one is better than another, I just know they are possible as are multiple other options.

I try not to get aggravated at the idea of staying but it is hard because doing so feels like a lie and a sham. Life here hasn’t been easy or rewarding for so long now I just don’t want to stick around to make it happen.

Doesn’t mean I can’t or that there haven’t been happy moments because both are true but I do believe that it doesn’t have to be as hard to make the changes and improvements I want.

Scratch that, the improvements I need.

Want Versus Need

Maybe what scares me is I think I see the opportunity to secure much of what I need and a handful of what I want.

The fear isn’t getting those things but missing out on them because of missing another one of those windows of opportunity.

Makes me wonder if maybe I should have had my blogging privileges revoked so I could pay more attention.

Maybe the thing to do is stop wondering and just accept the words of smarter men than I.

Einstein miracle

 

Things Bloggers Write About

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I don’t know if anyone has found my blog by searching for Gimpy George the recently disabled dude from Texas but it wouldn’t surprise me if someone did.

That reference comes from Good Vibrations- Breaking Bad While Breaking The Blog but if you are truly interested in George you might want to read How To Use 5000 Pounds of Bananas To Terrorize Noisy Neighbors.

I don’t pepper my posts with links solely to help provide references to past writings but also because I hope that one or more of you will check out the past and that you’ll be so impressed you’ll want to stick around for the present.

And if you choose to stay to see what the future holds, well that is so much the better.

Did I mention I feel like I am back in the land of sleep deprivation?

I am not entirely sure if that is accurate because the fact is this transition I am going through scares the hell out of me.

Part of that fear is a good thing, helps to remind me I am alive and actively working on continuing to be so. It is good because I don’t want to be the guy who just exists, I want to live a life that is beyond description.

But the other side of that fear is a big fat energy suck. It is a whirlpool of nonsense that exhausts me and I have to fight extra hard to keep going.

Maybe that helps explain why I keep hearing that Chariots of Fire song in my head, because I am running one hell of a race.

Finding A Rhythm

I don’t know about you but I like trying to find a rhythm to work, move and live to. I like finding it because I always feel like I am more productive when I tap into it.

It is part of why I like working out on a heavy bag so much. When you start throwing combinations and dancing in a circle around it you have to find a rhythm or you end up exhausting yourself earlier than you expect to.

Maybe I should have been born a drummer.

My best writing always feels like there is a rhythm to it as it flows from my fingertips.

That reminds me, I have always wanted to shoot lightning from my fingers or rockets. Not sure that I have a preference there but if I had to pick it would be the one that didn’t cause any issues going through airport security.

That would be kind of a bitch now wouldn’t it.

You can empty your pockets of metal and take off your belt/shoes but you can’t take your fingers off.

Ok, some people can do that but I am willing to bet the overwhelming majority of us don’t want to lose a hand(s) so we can gain a prosthetic device.

I’d be willing to look into using some sort of exoskeleton or Iron Man type suit, but not at the expense of my hands.

And even if you did give me some of those things I’d still have to deal with the damn TSA.

Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate having people look out for our security but there are moments where getting groped in the name of safety is less than exciting.

How Do You Identify Your Best Posts?

Got David Lee Roth and the rest of Van Halen singing Hot For Teacher in my ear but they have yet to help me come up with an answer for how to identify my best posts.

Ask me why I need to know and I’ll tell you every writer needs to be able to identify their best work. But I wouldn’t limit it just your personal opinion because that might not include work you have done that is admired by the masses.

Like how I used masses to describe the vast readership you and benefit from. Ok, it might not be masses now but there is no saying it won’t be accurate in the future.

And if I know anything about people it is that very few people like to eat in an empty restaurant, at least not for the first time.

We’re like Dr. Seuss’ Sneetches chasing after the chance to apply or remove stars on our bellies.

That is a conversation I have with my son on a semi-regular basis.

He doesn’t like chocolate and he wears a light jacket to school every day regardless of the weather.

That makes him stand out just enough for people to ask him about the jacket but they don’t hassle him about that as much as they do about his dislike of chocolate.

People can’t understand it and they quiz him about it. I know it is not an exaggeration because I have seen it happen.

So he always asks me what is wrong with people and why they should care about whether he likes chocolate or not.

My response is always some variation of the Sneetches story and how many people are afraid to be unique and or different.

It makes them uncomfortable.

That doesn’t answer the question of how to identify our best post does it.

Damn.

Writing For The Joy of Writing

This post you are reading is being written solely for the joy of writing and not because I have to. Blogging is not an obligation for me or at least I don’t see it that way.

The only obligation I feel now is the need to find full time employment again. That is a grind and a big part of what is helping to destroy what is left of the hair on my head.

I have had a lot of activity but have yet to close the deal on the stuff I am working on.

Makes me a bit crazy that these prospective employers don’t share my sense of urgency. Would make life a lot easier if I was their biggest priority but I haven’t been that lucky yet.

Since I have little control over that I find myself working 12 hours a day, M-F to find something.

I am very cognizant of how much time I have put in and when I am not doing something it is hard to relax because it makes me feel guilty.

This is a numbers game and the more doors you knock on the better your chances are.

Except there comes a time of diminishing returns, a moment where you start to wonder if you have pushed too hard and need to chill out so that you can become more productive.

I probably crossed that line a while back because that is what I do, I cross lines. You never know how far you’ll go if you don’t stretch.

What do you think?

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Do People See The Real You?

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Nerudalovewithoutreason

Many years ago in the days before I became who I was and grew into who I am now a woman told me she couldn’t see taking a chance on me.

I remember listening to her list of reasons and shaking my head at her and walking away. She yelled something about not wanting to hurt me and I shook

She yelled something about not wanting to hurt me and I shook my head again.

“We can’t do this because I’ll break your heart.”

“No, we can’t do this because your heart is already broken and mine will never be yours.”

I remember walking away knowing that I had dodged a bullet there, not because she was a bad person but because she never would have gotten me.

She never would have seen the real me.

Do People See The Real You?

Sometimes I look at the past eleven or twelve years and think about how very different my life is and the direction I am heading in.

It used to scare me to look out into the dark and realize my ability to see the future was clouded. Used to worry me that I didn’t have the sort of clarity I wanted to make informed decisions and then I found out what happens when you hold onto what you have got for reasons like just because.

You miss out on opportunities to live the kind of life you could be living.  It is hard because you can’t ever know with complete certainty what that life would be like without living it, but if you are like me you regret choosing to watch that train leave the station.

Sometimes I think of myself as being like a classic car that has been locked inside a barn for so long no one remembers it can do more and be more than something that collects dust.

And unless someone recognizes that there is more there, unless someone sees the potential there that classic car just sits there serving as a model of mediocrity.

Except I am not a car and I am not intentionally collecting dust, it just feels like it sometimes.

Because when I ask do people see the real you what I am really trying to figure out is why more people don’t see the real me.

Or maybe I am saying I fear they see the real me and they reject it outright or fail to at least consider maybe there is some substance there.

Maybe it is part of why we write. Maybe we write because it is our chance to try to show the world or at least the few people who read our words who we are.

No one can interrupt you here. They can’t stop you mid-sentence to tell you about how they understand what you are saying while they take over the conversation and ignore you were just telling them something important.

Or maybe what we are really doing is holding a mirror in front of our faces and making sure we hear what our heart has been screaming for so many years.

Maybe this is where we finally stop to listen to what we are really saying and hear for the first time what our true desires are.

The Greatest Gift A Blogger Will Ever Receive

Maybe the chance to sit in perfect silence and do more than listen to the echoes of your heart is the greatest gift a blogger will ever receive.

The chance to figure out with certainty the direction you want to walk in as and to stop just going with what you think makes sense.

Some people say they are most afraid of being completely open and vulnerable to someone else because they fear the pain that would come with rejection.

But I have begun to wonder if the root of that fear lies more in the second-guessing that comes after that rejection.

Truth is I am not really sure, I am just thinking out loud.

What I am certain of is the way I feel about the Neruda quote above and the knowledge that if you have never loved someone with the sort of fierce passion that comes with that you are missing out.

Again, this is just me, but I know with perfect certainty what it means to think of love as your air and how you can struggle to figure out how to breathe again when you think it has been removed.

But when you figure out how to see the real you there is a moment of clarity that comes with it, a realization that when you don’t look for reasons to love but do so just because the depth becomes immeasurable and feels limitless.

What I Fear Most

What I fear most isn’t the loss of such a love but the idea that I might forgo trying to live a life that feeds it because of fear.

What I fear most is allowing uncertainty to serve as rejection and refusal to take a chance to be the real me.

Because when I let go of that fear I give possibility the chance to turn into opportunity.

Sometimes I look at painters and sculptors and wonder if there is a way for me to borrow some of their skill. The ability to take stone and chisel away at it until it turns into something beautiful is amazing to me.

The way you can lay paint and brush upon a blank canvas and create something out of nothing is magical.

garden

A good gardener is like that painter or sculptor too. They look at patches of dirt and understand that if they tend to their garden they can grow something beautiful there.

It may be dirt today but with some patience and some love you can turn weeds into flowers.