Archives for September 2015

People say I shouldn’t use headlines like Spit Or Swallow Still Means You Have Time To Blog or Does Facebook Promote Stupidity & Intolerance?

They tell me that it gives the wrong impression and I ask them if they are bothered because they are concerned about my welfare or if because my words are offending their sensibilities.

I tell them the same thing I tell many of my readers, if you are concerned about what you read here I suggest you check out my post, Blog Cancellation Fees- The Easy Way To Monetize.

Really, it is educational, not only will you learn about ways to monetize your blog you’ll learn about how to deal with loud upstairs neighbors and how to answer hard questions kids ask.

If you are still reading might I suggest you add The Blog Award You Wish You Had Won to the list of posts for the night/evening/day?

Free Advice: Don’t Take Life/Blogging Too Seriously

My dad and grandfathers often told me to remember that free advice is often worth exactly what you pay for it but I know better, there is usually a sucker or two around who will pay you for that same free advice.

All you need is a clipboard, an authoritative attitude and a couple of bucks for a website and an infomercial.

Really, you can charge good money and rest confident that people will pay for your free advice. If you don’t believe me go watch reality television, televangelists and late night TV.

Somewhere 983 motivational speakers are gearing up to tell me why I shouldn’t make fun of them and to ask how I can do it when I quoted Arnold as being motivational, not to mention the tons of quotes I use here.

Allow me to share Mr. Whitman’s words.

Before we move back to some more serious talk let’s take a short intermission to share the last set of songs that played on my iTunes shuffle:

Somewhere between the headbanging, soft rock, folk and all of the classical that floats through my headphones is a common theme of music that moves me.

Sometimes it feeds the fire for a workout, sometimes it feeds the happiness and sometimes it feeds the sadness but it always feeds something.

That is because I am focused and geared up for doing everything I can to live my dreams and not dream my life.

69 Reasons Why We Can’t Wait Any Longer

The only reason why the number is in the headline is because every time I use 69 or other numbers in my headlines more people click on them.

Everytime more people click and more people read I come one step closer to finding the person who loves my writing so much they can’t imagine not helping me get published.

You know the one I am talking about, the man/woman who has the connections and ability to help move me from point A to point B.

That might sound ridiculous to you but I figure that it is an easy way to help try and turn one dream into something more and that is important because we can’t wait any longer.

I tell the kids that all the time.

We can’t wait any longer for someone to decide to do something to help us.

We can’t wait for them to decide to wash our clothes, make our lunches or clean our rooms. We can’t wait for some good Samaritan to come along and give us a billion dollars so that we can retire early.

We have to act now and take control of what we can. We have to take action and do it now because you don’t know when things can change.

We have to take action and do it now because you don't know when things can change.Click To Tweet

I tell the kids to remember that life really can turn on a dime. I tell them about some of my friends who died young and remind them about some of the experiences of lives and encourage them to work hard to protect their investments in themselves.

That means study your ass off because no one can take your education from you. Possessions come and go but education and experiences last forever.

I tell them to collect those experiences, to be willing to step outside of their comfort zones and remember that it is better to try and fail than not try at all.

Most of all I tell them to never forget that dad loves them and to remember that every time I have ever been knocked down I have gotten back up.

They can do it too.

But I make a point sometimes times point out how I failed and how I came back so that they know it is possible and to make them understand I don’t fear failure.

I fear not trying. I fear not being willing to step out of my comfort zone because it might not work.

That doesn’t mean I promote being reckless, but I don’t promote using bubble wrap on our kids either.

Sometimes a picture is worth a thousand words and sometimes a picture needs a thousand words to explain its meaning but don’t ask me to tell how to distinguish between the two.

I am not sure I am smart enough to understand it or capable of describing it in a way you can follow.

Hell, if you believe what others say I am a middle aged white man which automatically means I am part of a class of oppressors who can’t possibly understand how good we have it and how bad others live.

Those that subscribe to this particular way of thinking have a term they use as a cudgel to try and enforce silence, it is called privilege and if you have it then you are not allowed to speak on certain topics because you just don’t understand.

 

I often refuse to engage with the people that promote these discussions because in an effort to promote tolerance they are intolerant of others whose perspective isn’t the same as their own.

If you have read this far and want to know what I think I’ll tell you I worry more about class than color because if you have money you have access to more than those that do not and having been on both sides of that fence I know something about it.

But I am not going to tell you about having to give up my house or how I went without health insurance so I could put food on the table and a roof over our heads because this post isn’t about that.

Does Facebook Promote Stupidity & Intolerance?

Sometimes I miss the good old days when the worst I experienced on Facebook was being poked, having a sheep thrown at me or the 10 million requests to help build someone’s farm.

That’s because now it feels like a significant part of my feed is some angry status update about how stupid someone is or are.

If you like Sneetches with stars you are a rich bigot and if you like them without you are a poor fool. Of course it doesn’t matter because if you read a bit further you’ll discover that anyone who likes Sneetches with stars and without is a racist buffoon.

Both or neither could be true, just keep reading and you are guaranteed to read a scholarly document that was likely unvetted but shared because it looks professional that will clear things up for everyone.

Many years ago I worked as a youth director for kids ranging in age from 10-18.

We used to organize a wide variety of activities for the kids that ranged from stuff that was just fun to things that were supposed to be fun and educational.

One of the goals was to give them a safe place they could go to after school. A place where they would have access to adults they trusted and could approach with questions they might not be willing to ask their parents about.

Sometimes I wonder what happened to some of those kids, like the 17-year-old girl who told me her mother said she could get pregnant by swallowing a boy.

If it hadn’t been for some of the other teenage girls I don’t know if I would have gotten drawn into that conversation, but the girl who had the mother with the oral advice was being bullied by several others.

That’s because when she told them what mom had said the others told her that her mom was an idiot and it just got uglier from there.

I look back at that moment as the time when I realized how mean girls could be to other girls, including those they called friend.

It is probably a good thing that Facebook didn’t exist then, I hate to think about what those girls might have done.

Sometimes I think about the Mighty Search Engine Gods and all the time I used to spend praying to them to help me blow this sucker up and make it a mighty success.

I put in a lot of hours trying to turn this joint into something more but it never has quite hit the heights I hoped it would.

Most days I am good with that because overall it has served my needs and made me pretty happy but there are moments where I ask myself if that is an honest answer.

Moments where I ask if I have just given up or grown into something and someone else.

Part of it is because I tell the kids that if they want something they have to be willing to work hard for it and to go the extra mile.

I have told them that nothing comes easy and that there is merit in having a good work ethic, one that allows you to take those extra steps to try to distinguish yourself from the average Joe who just does fair work.

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The thing about blogging and writing in general is you never know for certain what is going to be a hit and what is going to be a bust.

Sometimes people love the post that you thought was just ok and sometimes the one you think is outstanding is considered to be awful.

Been five years since grandma died, more than that since my grandfather told me that my grandma had a great ass for a woman in her nineties.

Always meant to share some of my fiction with them, something like this maybe but it never did happen. The how and why isn’t important.

Grandma would have liked the idea of using Facebook to stay in touch with family/friends but she would have hated the politics and rhetoric.

She told me she wouldn’t tell me how to be a dad, but I can guarantee she would have told grandpa what sort of advice she thought I needed.

I’d write more about them but I have to go update Facebook, people need to know that tin foil hats are a sign of intelligence.

It has been years since anyone asked me if I was working out with Arnold Schwarzenegger.

Sometimes it was said in jest and sometimes it was said with malice but I never cared enough to let either one stop me from doing my thing.

Especially in those days when I had no responsibilities besides myself. If I wasn’t in school, studying or hanging out with the guys there was a damn good chance I was in the gym.

I loved to workout. I loved the pain, the burn and how my body responded to it all. There was an adrenalin rush that came from it that made me smile all day long.

The only problem I had with working out was how cranky I would get if things got in the way. I didn’t mind occasionally missing a workout or two but missing somewhere between three and several made me edgy.

I figured if I had to be addicted to something than exercise was a good thing and I was never addicted in the sense that I couldn’t go without. I just didn’t like it.

Things Happen

Steiner the minor called when I was in Texas and asked me what my plans were because he wanted to talk to me about some things.

I told him I was available to talk whenever he wanted but that if it had to be in person it wasn’t going to be that day. He said not to worry and that there was no rush but like any good father I asked him to give me more details than “sometimes things happen.”

It is the sort of nondescript statement that can make a person crazy because it can refer to something of grave importance or the kind of narishkeit (foolishness) that doesn’t require serious attention.

And since my son is a teenager who shares my DNA I had to get clarification for my own sanity.

Remember that when people ask me if anything scares me about being a father I say I sometimes worry about my kids doing the same stupid crap I did.

That happens when you used to pretend to be a stuntman and had little regard for whether jumping off of roofs and out of trees could lead to injury.

It has been years since anyone asked me if I was working out with Arnold Schwarzenegger.Click To Tweet

My son is very much his own man and though there are many things we share in common he seems not to have gotten the jumping gene that still lives inside of me.

I am not complaining about that because it is probably a good thing. Go back through my life and you’ll see I have had a minimal number of injuries.

Broke my nose three or four times while wrestling or playing basketball, chipped the talus on my right ankle, and dislocated a few fingers.

By my count that is not too bad, especially if you look at all of the times I put myself at risk.

Confession: Sometimes I still jump off of things, just like I did when I was a kid.

Second confession: It is less and less unusual for me to take a moment to consider whether the action I am considering is going to hurt.

I hate that.

I hate wondering if maybe I might hurt myself or end up with one of those niggling pains that doesn’t want to go away.

Time Changes All

Last week I had a conversation with some guys who are in their late twenties and early thirties and realized that many of my pop culture references are things they don’t really get.

We debated about how good Michael Jordan, Magic Johnson, Larry Bird, Bo Jackson, Walter Payton and Barry Sanders were compared to modern players and I realized I was the only one who had seen them all play during their peak years.

They had only seen tape (did I mention that I was told using ‘tape’ as a reference ages me?) so they didn’t have the same feel for these players as I did.

Most of them didn’t like baseball very much either. That was strange to me, I mean I understand that not everyone has to like all of the same things but when I was growing up baseball was a constant among boys.

Everyone played and everyone knew the names of the most popular players.

But then again, when my son was little he really didn’t like the game and I didn’t force it upon him. That changed over time, but there are moments where I wish I would have put the glove on him.

Some of my favorite memories are of playing catch with my dad or friends.

Are You Hanging Out With Arnold Schwarzenegger?

I had to give up my gym membership a while ago.

First it was because money was too tight and it was more important to be able to feed the family than own one and then because I didn’t know where I was going to be living and I wanted to join one that served my area.

So last week was the first time I had been to a gym in a long while. It was good to be there but frustrating because it provided proof that I hadn’t been there in too long.

I couldn’t lift as I wanted to and I was sore for two days after it, but it was worth it.

Midway through my routine I stood in front of the mirror and stared at myself. I didn’t like what I saw because it was more proof of how I let things happen and I felt guilty.

Guilty because I let myself down and I swore years ago it would never happen. But then something happened, my old friend Arnold came to visit by way of YouTube and I was inspired by what I heard.

I have watched and listened to the video below several times because it makes sense to me and I relate to it. Those last four words are the most important, “I relate to it.”

When you want inspiration or change the most effective way to do it is find a way to relate. I am not afraid to push the envelope or failure. I have failed and I will fail again but I will always come back.

Few things come easy for me but working hard is one of them. See you in the comments.