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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

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Archives for July 2015

It Is Still About Dads and Daughters

July 23, 2015 by Jack Steiner 7 Comments

anotherbirthday

You told me to get out of your room and said you didn’t need to hear me speak because you already knew what I was going to say.

I told you to tread carefully because I am your father and you don’t get to talk to me like I am a friend or acquaintance.

When you glared at me I told you I loved you and that I didn’t care if you were angry or if my timing was bad, it was time to clean up your room.

And then I walked out and ignored the words you muttered, being careful not to let you hear me giggle or laugh.

Discipline doesn’t work very well if you think I am not serious and though I am often not, my job is to make sure you learn how to take care of yourself.

Sometimes that means pushing you to make sure you learn about responsibility, accountability and understanding that good things come to those who make them happen.

****

The laughter came because I heard my father’s words coming from my mouth and you said one day you’d be a nicer parent than your own.

We all said that and we all meant it. Didn’t matter how good our folks were at parenting because we all just wing it.

Where The Rubber Meets The Road

Two days ago you surprised me when you asked if I ever write about you guys and I was sort of pleased you didn’t ask to see what I have written yet.

One day I’ll give you the keys to the kingdom and you’ll get a chance to see what has been said about you but for now I think it is good for you to gain a little more life experience.

That is not to say you have to be ancient, like someone who lived in the ’80s to appreciate this but you won’t get some of this now. I sort of figure I’ll wait until you are around twenty or so, maybe a bit older before you get into it.

I can promise you that as you age some of the stuff you read here will take on new dimensions and you might like it more or maybe you’ll like it less.

If nothing else you’ll see that I am just a man, no better and no worse than any other.

That is something I was thinking about because as you grow older it is impossible for me not to notice how much you have grown up and sometimes it is hard to see how every day you need us a little bit less.

That is what I want to happen. I want you guys to reach a point where you are capable of handling anything and everything without us but I would be lying if I said that sometimes I don’t miss the days where we’d search for parking and you’d call out from the back seat and tell me to just pick up a car and move it.

Not long ago you looked at me from the passenger seat and asked me if I could hurry up and find a space because you had things to do besides run errands with me.

I offered to pick up a car and move it and you just shook your head.

“Dad…”

You didn’t remember the ‘old days’ and I am honestly cool with that, but I am not ready to say Superman has left the building just yet.

It Is Still About Dads and Daughters

We still have fun together.

You know how to make me laugh as hard as anyone and though you are very much your own person I’ll take credit for a couple of quirks and attributes.

That clown in you came from somewhere or someone and that guy is me, so did the black hair.

Speaking of hair have you noticed that as mine disappears yours gets much longer. There is no coincidence there.

You know when you turned your brother’s life upside down you did it to all of us. I’d like to point out that even though you guys might make each other crazy no one else will ever understand your childhood in the same way.

No one else will have that same connection and no one else will have your back in the same sort of way. Remember when things get  nutty and they will, that he’ll look out for you.

Don’t blame him for being difficult about some of this, he is just imitating me and I am just imitating my dad. So really if you are upset with someone about that, blame grandpa.

See how that works, send the crap up the line and know that if you say something to grandpa he’ll blame his father and so it goes. 🙂

*****

Did I mention that I try to write something like this every year?

They don’t always take place on around or your birthday. Sometimes I write them at other times, there is no rhyme or reason to some of it.

I do what I do as I choose to do it.

Wonder who else does that too.

Maybe some time you’ll read How To Raise The Perfect Daughter or Of Dads and Daughters and something there will make you smile.

Or maybe you’ll ask me not to embarrass you again and I’ll shake my head and refuse because I won’t ever agree not to protect you guys. You might not always like it and I can’t promise not to make mistakes, but the job description for a father includes “rip, mutilate, shred, destroy, disarm and dismantle as needed or necessary.’

Remember to tell the boys that when you start dating because I will never be too old or decrepit not to look out for you. 🙂

One Last Thing

Happy birthday to you.

Life is a journey and every day is just another part of the adventure. Enjoy it and try not to lose the ability to dream or look for fairy tales.

Sometimes truth is stranger than fiction and even more fun.

Love,

Dad

Filed Under: Children

Who Will Fill The Empty Seats At Your Table?

July 21, 2015 by Jack Steiner 7 Comments

Bookends
Some people write about the best recipes for cooking a cat not because it makes for good linkbait but because they are lost in memories of the place where they found and lost their innocence and confidences.

When they think about the ghost you cannot see they wonder what happens when the house you grew up in, the one that has been the rock and the anchor of your family for five decades is prepared to be sold someone outside of the family.

****

Ma and Pa Steiner met with a realtor and are actively pursuing this move to sell my their house and I feel a bit like I got punched in the gut.

It is uncomfortable for a host of reasons not the least of which is I feel a bit foolish for being upset by this. It is four walls and a roof, nothing more than drywall and paint.

Ask my children and they’ll tell you I have told them many times that the people you are with make a house into a home.

People are what power moments and help us turn the ordinary into the extraordinary but no matter how many times I say these words in silence I am still unsettled by it.

It is four years since my last grandparent moved on to whatever comes next. There is An Empty Place At The Table that will never be filled in the same way because they are gone and all I have are the moments that we shared.

The baton has been passed and all of the generations have moved to the next step. It is part of the proverbial cycle of life and perfectly natural but it still feels a bit strange to me to realize that I am not the kid anymore.

I remember my grandparents telling me stories about their grandparents but I don’t think I really understood or appreciated what it was they were sharing.

I do now, but I didn’t then.

You can’t screw an old head on young shoulders.

Who Will Fill The Empty Seats At Your Table?

When I was born all of my grandparents had sold their homes and moved into apartments so I haven’t any memories from grandpa or grandma’s ‘house.’

It is different for my children. Don’t know that it is better or worse, just different.

They are no happier than I am about the coming sale and keep trying to come up with ways for me to or my siblings to buy the house.

But even though I am torn about the move I am grateful for all of the good memories that are tied up in it. Grateful for the gift of gratitude and eager to continue trying to help my children understand this is not something to be insouciant about.

We have more than many and that is invaluable.

My children don’t ask who will fill the empty seats at the table because their primary memories of family meals are punctuated by two sets of grandparents and a smattering of great-grandparents.

Sometimes it makes me sad they didn’t get to know them better, but then again they got to know some of them and that is more than many.

And now for a musical interlude:

All My Life Is a Circle

Midnight approaches on a week night and I am back at the computer pointing-and-clicking my way through cyberspace.

Got a pair of Bose headphones that I purchased because they were supposed to provide great sound and noise reduction but I am not convinced they are as good as advertised.

Thinking about the house and all of the work that is required to get it into shape to move.

The last time Ma & Pa moved was when they were twenty-somethings who hadn’t finished having children.

I tell them they need to give themselves more time to work on this because when you are in your seventies you can’t expect to have the same energy as when you were younger.

They tell me not to worry and mom says “I had four kids by 30 and I didn’t have a nanny. You have no idea how much energy you had. My friends used to look at you and ask if you ever stopped moving.”

I smile at mom and keep silent. There is no reason to belabor the point, they know how old they are and they know this will be harder than they think.

And then a fragment from the past floats to the surface and I hear my parents talking to each other about how much work is involved in moving my grandparents.

That must be around 20 years or so ago and now instead of them worrying about my grandparents I am worrying about my kids grandparents.

Where I Became A Writer/The Problem With Bloggers

It is Spring of ’74 and mom is pregnant with my baby sisters. She tells me there are two babies inside her and says I can help come up with names.

I tell her I don’t want any help from my middle sister because I am a big boy who can come up with good names. She tells me that I need to be a good big brother to my sister and to the babies, even if they aren’t the little brothers I want.

“Go tell your sister a story.”

It is not an uncommon request and it wasn’t unusual for me to do so.

In many ways my house is where I first became a writer and a person who loved to tell stories. But back then I never second guessed myself or worried about whether my tales were good enough to be told.

I shared them with whomever would listen and moved on.

There was no concern about whether it was good enough to get some recognition. No concern about whether it was good enough to promote or conversation about how to get hooked up with more deals.

It was just my stories and I.

Sometimes I need to remind myself about those days. You don’t become a better writer by promoting your work to everyone who will read or listen.

You become a better writer by writing.

I am going to miss my house.

Filed Under: Aging, Children, Parents

Do You Suffer From Cluttered Mind Syndrome?

July 20, 2015 by Jack Steiner 16 Comments

simplicity
Toby Keith is singing his cover of I’m So Happy I Can’t Stop Crying, I am at the computer and the dog is going nuts downstairs.

Can’t decide if he is defending the homestead against the very dangerous squirrel outside or if he is communicating with other pooches using the language of their people.

Don’t know if cluttered mind syndrome is a real problem or not because I didn’t ask Dr. Google to confirm or deny but I know that upon occasion it strikes me.

When it does I find myself fighting my own personal Hydra, a fictional construct created inside my own melon, a giant beast whose many heads are all trying to take a bite out of my ass.

Most of the time I am pretty good at keeping the beast at bay. Most of the time I pound those heads into submission so I can attack one challenge at a time, but every now and then it just doesn’t work as well as I would like it to.

The First Garage Sale

We had our first garage sale about this time four years ago. It was at the old house and we knew that since we were going to sell it we had to cut down on the amount of crap we had accumulated.

Part of me really enjoyed clearing away clutter. Part of me saw it as an easy way to clean up and march into the future and part of me hated it.

That is because my first choice wasn’t to sell that place. It wasn’t supposed to go down the way it did but sometimes you don’t have as much control of a matter as you wish.

And though things are 150,000 times better than they were in The Story Of A House- The Final Days there are moments where the memory of that time pricks my skin.

Yesterday was one of those days.

*****

It took place in a multifamily garage sale and I was pleasantly surprised by how much we made.

But that didn’t prevent me from remembering angry children who didn’t want to sell our stuff. Didn’t prevent me from remembering how my daughter reacted when she saw kids playing on our couch.

“I put it on the curb because it is not worth keeping. It is broken.”

“Daddy, you tell him to get off. You tell him to go away and then put it back in my house.”

She was seven and didn’t understand that we were in the midst of a horrific recession. I was unemployed and I couldn’t find work.

I tried to get a job unloading trucks and was turned down. Grocery stores didn’t need another checker and none of the places I really wanted to work were hiring.

We were drowning and that house was the biggest albatross around my neck I had ever had to drag around.

I carried us all for a bunch of years and I found ways to make it all work until I couldn’t take the beating any more. And when I was done, I was finished with it.

Took a long time for me to be able to speak or write about it. Felt like a father’s worst failure and I remember one night where I went out of with the boys and drank like we were still 19.

I remember being ready to take on a group of idiots at one of the bars not caring how many there were because frustration had turned to rage and my fists against flesh would have felt good.

The guys took care of me, calmed me down and reminded me that I had responsibilities and when I said I didn’t know how to fix what was broken they said “you are a fucking phoenix, you’ll rise again.”

They were right.

*****

Otis Redding is singing That’s How Strong My Love Is and I am staring at the ceiling remembering some of those moments.

Some of it leads me down darker paths and I debate whether to put on something darker and heavier.

Got to bang out some sets with the weights and some more pushups. Got to get myself back to 500 of those bad boys a night.

Got to get into better shape, so much harder than it used to be but doable and that is enough.

Sometimes I just rely upon force of will and follow my gut down rabbit hole to see where it leads. Listen to my heart and add a double dose of common sense and I know I’ll get there.

Where is there?

Good question, I define it as the place that provides more peace of mind.

I look back at the house and think about how the experiences forced me to reevaluate things, to grow and how it made me become a better writer.

I think about it how I was a good father, but the house made me a better one.

But there is part of me that asks if I am being honest with myself or if this is just me rationalizing things, a way to make the rough spots look smooth.

Damn Hydra must have reared its head.

Clutter Must Be Eliminated

“It is summer so you have time to go through your rooms and figure out what you don’t need and what you don’t wear. Clutter must be eliminated.”

The kids grumble but when I tell them they get to keep the profits from whatever they sell at the garage sale they get excited.

They’re on board and they are ready.

Four years later we have taken back almost all of the things that were put in storage when we moved. I am amazed by just how much we put away.

Four of those portable pods were filled with odds and ends.

Four were filled with things that we couldn’t just give away or didn’t want to sell.

When you shrink the footprint of where you live you figure out what you really need and what you don’t.

The phoenix has risen from the ashes but the climb out and back up to that place isn’t completed overnight.

The Checklist To Simplicity

The kids are thrilled with how much they made and I am pretty damn happy too.

We talk about a bunch of things they want and I tell them they can get something, but a portion of their profits has to be deposited in savings.

There are a million different things going on and too many details to keep track of now, but I am focused on the checklist to simplicity.

That Hydra never goes away, but he does get stuffed back into his cage. It is just how it works.

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Filed Under: Children, Life

The 876 Finest Recipes For Cooking Your Cat

July 18, 2015 by Jack Steiner 4 Comments

The dog and I are listening to The Moody Blues sing Tuesday afternoon, both of us occasionally flinching at the unexpected summer thunder.

While I have been wrestling with what picture to use the music has moved to Isn’t Life Strange and I am nodding my head because experience has proven that truth is often stranger than fiction.

If there were no boundaries in blogging and I had no concern about what to share here I could tell you a few tales that would illustrate that in a way that would make you nod your head in agreement, but I won’t share those today so you’ll have to rely upon your own experience to determine whether you agree or not.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA
Light follows darkness.

My initial intent for this post had been to write about social media and blogging again. I hadn’t decided whether I was going to follow up on Blog Readers Come & Go or talk about Twitter but it was going to be one of the two.

Either one of those probably would have included commentary and or references to It Is What Every Blogger Wants and  Do You Miss Old Fashioned Blogging?

Hell, I might have even included How To Become A Social Media Superstar because that is a post worth referencing again but my mind is elsewhere.

Mostly it is focused on trying to write something that doesn’t make me cringe because I am embarrassed by the quality of the output but other things have my attention too.

knowing

I tell my children they should do their best to learn something new each day and to never waste time because you never know when you’ll regret not having more of it.

Today I learned that the devil hates me and that he has decided to use my dog as his instrument of evil because Satan has taken up residence in the dog’s ass and the gas attack almost rendered this room useless.

But if you know me well you know I am sometimes stubborn to the point of stupidity and willing to prove my bravery in the face of grave danger by pushing the envelope.

So instead of taking the laptop into the other room I stayed here so that I could use the good speakers to help me decide what songs to buy on iTunes.

Though I miss record stores and the fun of buying a new album I don’t miss paying for 13 or 14 songs when I only really liked about half of them.

What I Bought Today…So Far

  1. Ain’t No Sunshine (Single Version) Bill Withers
  2. Lovely Day- Bill Withers
  3. I’m So Happy I Can’t Stop Crying- Toby Keith
  4. Kiss On My List- Hall & Oates
  5. Ooh La La- Faces
  6. Mendocino County- Willie Nelson with Lee Ann Womack
  7. Pancho & Lefty- Emmylou Harris
  8. Rhythm Of My Heart- Rod Stewart
  9. Can I Play With Madness- Iron Maiden

Serious Advice- Make It Easy For The Readers

The long time readers know I always write first for me and then for you. They know I believe it is important for a writer to be engaged and excited about the words they write because there is a better chance that energy will be transferred onto the page.

But I don’t know if I have done a good job of also expressing that I try to pay attention to the physical look of the content I put out.

So I keep hitting preview on this post to try and figure out if this post is easy on a reader’s eyes or if it looks cluttered and busy.

But what I haven’t put much effort into is trying to figure out if this post is too disjointed for you to follow.

Those who know me best will recognize this post as being a classic sign of how old Jack Steiner engages in deep thinking, how he sometimes processes the same sort of crap we all go through.

As for the rest of you, well I hope you can follow it but I am not going to make myself crazy trying to determine that. Second guessing is a good way to stop us from publishing content, sometimes you have to just write.

I figure at least a few of you will find it easy and interesting enough to keep reading so I am going to keep writing.

“And then all that he thought he was and would be was turned upside down.”

My parents are thinking about selling the house I grew up in and moving into something smaller and better suited for them.

The adult in me says that makes perfect sense but the kid who lives inside me too hates it.

That is my house and I dislike the idea of others living in it.

We moved into it when I was about three-years-old so it is where all of my formative memories are tied into. If they choose to do it I suppose I’ll write something more detailed and specific about it, but right now is not the time.

Doesn’t mean I won’t share a thought or two here. Doesn’t mean I won’t tell you that my grandfather died in the kitchen and that sometimes when I am there I feel his presence.

Doesn’t mean I won’t tell you about how a couple of girls helped teach me a thing or two in my bedroom and the echoes of those moments are part of why I’ll be cautious about letting my kids have boys/girls in their rooms.

But those same echoes also make me wonder how to best address those issues when the time comes too because I don’t want the kids to get themselves into trouble or to get a complex either.

****

That house is where I lay in bed and knew that one day I’d be a professional baseball player and where I knew that one day I’d live in Israel.

I’d lie in bed and daydream and think about how when I came home to visit I would walk in through the front door, hug my parents and then go put my bags in my bedroom because if I came home that would be where I would stay.

And that house is where I first learned sometimes people plan and G-d laughs.

It is where I figured out that our dreams can change and that sometimes the plans for our future had to change and that those changes would work out better than we could imagine.

Embrace The Change

The dog has wandered into a different room and my olfactory system is celebrating.

Certain scents are forever linked with important people and places. Sometimes I wonder what sort of scent I have and who recognizes it.

My kids would know the same way we all recognize the scents of our parents/grandparents but I sometimes wonder of those we have been intimate with associate a particular smell with us.

If we cooked meals together would they associate a particular scent with those memories too? I rather imagine they would, but I am fairly certain it wouldn’t be any of The 876 Finest Recipes For Cooking Your Cat.

I hate cats, but I can’t share a recipe with you because I don’t have any and I never have.

If you just exhaled in relief you don’t know me very well because I wouldn’t cook a cat. I would banish them all to Cat Island but I would never cook them.

*****

One more thing to share with you.

The  last half dozen or so showers I have taken have been punctuated by a feeling that someone else was inside my house.

Yet every time it has happened it has been during a time when I know for certain the dog and I were the only people there.

Might blog about this later, might not.

Got The Macallan 12 a good book and dinner to get to yet.

See you around…maybe.

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Filed Under: Life

The Best Family Vacations Are Free

July 16, 2015 by Jack Steiner 2 Comments

one slip

You might ask yourself why a father would dance a jig as the sun slowly set when he could be seated in a comfortable chair enjoying his favorite drink while watching the waves lap against the shore.

Or if you are like me you might wonder if you could still throw a football 80 yards with enough velocity and accuracy to smack that dancing fool or his way too smug companion in the head.

It would make one hell of a story, especially if you could say you got away with it but that sort of antisocial behavior would make people wonder about you and there is a damn good chance you’d get your own pair of silver bracelets.

Trust me, I’d tell you it is not worth getting arrested.

Some of you might wonder if you fell down the rabbit hole of the blogosphere and are probably asking yourself who the hell is this Jack Steiner guy.

Did he really write a story about a flying clown and a battle with ‘Jersey Santa?’

Do I Have Your Attention?

Fifteen or so years of parenting has done more than provide me with blog fodder and posts where I describe myself as being insouciant about the challenges parents face.

It has helped me ask some very hard questions about my beliefs, my needs and what I want for my children.

Parenting is where I learned that in an age of electronics and instant gratification that sometimes the best way to get my kids to pay attention is to be a little silly and sort of goofy.

They get plenty of time with the serious father who asks them about their days and helps them with their homework. They get plenty of serious time in school.

So I like to try to and mix it up and show them that there is plenty of time to relax and play but the thing is  we never have as much time to do that as we want, at least not like we do when we are on vacation.

The Best Family Vacations Are Free

This isn’t one of those posts where I try to sell you on some wacky idea for obtaining a free vacation. I may be silly and goofy, but I am a bit cynical about what strings are attached to that kind of free vacation.

What I am thinking of here are trips that are free of work and school stress. The kind where everyone leaves their daily baggage at home so they can enjoy spending time together.

When you can’t forget about the office or you have studying/homework looming over your shoulder it is hard to really be present wherever you are.

I suppose that is also part of why I am torn about letting the kids bring their electronics on our vacations because I wonder how their electronic bubble impacts the trip.

But this isn’t about whether the kids should or should not have that gear on the trip. It is about trying to find more opportunities to go away and have more experiences as a family.

As much as I said it is not about finances, part of it is because we are like many families where we don’t have as much disposable income as we would like to so I follow many of the travel websites and look for deals that will work for my family.

I have had good luck with Hotwire so when I heard that there was a Groupon Coupon (see link) that I could use I jumped on it.

Haven’t figured out all of the details for our next trip but I am working on it and every buck I save makes it that much easier to take the trip.

Experiences & Stories

My kids are in high school and middle school so I am even more intent on trying to have share more experiences with them while we can because time moves far too quickly.

Dear old dad is a storyteller and has been his whole life. Go back to the goofy stuff from above and check it out, you’ll see that I know how to spin a yarn or two.

What I hope is that these experiences with the kids give them their own stories to tell and that better yet, they’ll be true stories based upon the good times we had together.

That is what family is all about.

What do you think?

Disclosure: Although this post is sponsored, all opinions are my own.

Filed Under: Groupon Coupons

A Ghost That You Can’t See

July 15, 2015 by Jack Steiner 6 Comments

readmymind
Once upon a time I wrote posts called How Much Does It Cost To Be a Blogger and Decisions & Dilemmas because I needed some clarity on what I thought and felt about things.

There have been so many moments, incidents and activities since those posts were presented for public consumption I can’t quite figure out what was going on.

I only sort of recognize the man I was and barely remember the moments so I ask myself if the purpose of the blog was filled and or the point of the post.

If this joint is supposed to be serve as a snapshot in time I should be able to read my words and remember. But then again if the purpose of those posts was to provide clarity in my thoughts and serve as a way to ease the stress of those times I shouldn’t complain.

Because if I can’t really remember than the posts performed as needed but the blog failed.

1000 miles away
Maybe that is what it is all about. Maybe the higher purpose, the one that serves the greater good was served by making it possible for a man who remembers all of the slings and arrows to forget.

But if King is correct that a good writer has to remember every scar might I ask if I have done myself a disservice by finding a way not to bring the bad back instantly.

If I teach my kids to journal and stress the importance of clear communication than I suppose I ought to ask some questions of myself.

When I can’t quite remember what happened am engaged in hypocrisy or a simple case of “do as I say and not as I do.”

It reminds me of a moment from yesteryear.

My three-year-old son was supposed to be fast asleep in his car seat and not listening to his father call another driver the dumbest motherfucker he has had the misfortune of encountering in the last ten minutes.

Instead we had almost 35 minutes of me trying to convince him I said “mothertrucker” and wouldn’t you know it, that little boy just refused to buy what I was selling.

This reminds me of a moment he and I shared not long ago.

“Dad, I just realized what motherfucker means and I am traumatized.”

“Good use of traumatized sonny, isn’t 8th grade a wonderful time of your life.”

“No, I just realized what you and mom did.”

“If I was you I would bleach my eyes and bang my head against the wall.”

“What kind of advice is that? Do you want me to hurt myself?”

“The ER is cheaper than therapy.”

“Ha ha dad. I am not going to hurt myself.”

“Good, do yourself a favor and try not to bring this conversation up with mom. She won’t find the term very romantic.”

“That is good, I don’t find it particularly romantic either.”

“And now you know why we were smart not to name you Oedipus.”

Ray Charles Musical Interlude
If You Were Mine
Come Live With Me
Mess Around

If you are ever around me when I listen to Mess Around you’ll see me play the piano along with Ray, too bad I can’t play the real thing but whatever. I play the hell out of the air piano.

The kids used to play their own air pianos with Ray and I too, but that rarely happens now. They got old and are too cool to be caught like that.

On the other hand if I am quiet and act like the ghost they can’t see I sometimes catch them playing with old toys and or doing things they are too cool to do now.

I tried to take advantage of that last conversation with my son to make a pitch for safe sex and to be smart about drugs and alcohol.

He is starting high school and even though he protests about girls and swears he thinks drugs are stupid I want those thoughts about being smart to roll around the inside of his skull.

A while back I had a similar conversation with a nephew about girls and girlfriends. He is already in high school and his friends talk a really good game on his Instagram.

Did I mention my daughter follows his Instagram and asked me to explain what some of those little boys were saying?

Uncomfortable Moments For All

When she came to me and said she could Google all of the words but thought I would do a better job of explaining I found myself in an uncomfortable situation because she doesn’t need to know why some boys used Fuck in a way that didn’t sound like it was supposed to be an insult.

So when the conversation with my nephew took place I was both father and cool uncle but the thing is, cool uncle doesn’t mean I have to act like a 15-year-old boy and try to be his friend.

I did my best to set him straight and recognized that in the age of social media and the Internet our kids are growing up faster than we might like.

Can’t put them in bubble wrap cocoons or keep their eyes and ears away from all they shouldn’t hear, but we can manage it a bit.

Some people have secret feelings.
Some people have secret feelings.

It is well after midnight and in a few minutes I’ll climb into bed and be asleep before my head hits the pillow. But before I do I’ll voice my irritation again with the people who ask questions but ignore your answer.

I’ll tell you it makes me crazy when someone engages in a conversation in which they expect me to ask about them and never bother to listen to the answers to the questions they ask about me.

What is the point of talking if you don’t want to listen.

Filed Under: Blogging

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