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 October 2015

The Memory Collector

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beautiful day track
A beautiful day for making and collecting memories.

The 17 long time readers know I march to the beat of a drummer who is blind and has no rhythm.

Ask them and they’ll tell you if you ask me to pull a card from your deck I will always find the joker and that guy is wild.

Some call it a curse, but I call it a gift, just one that takes a special kind of person to handle…me.

It’s Not My Fault She’s Crazy & Hysterical.

Anyway, when I started blogging in May of 2004 it never occurred to me that one-day blogging would be the reason why I would agonize whether to drive a Ferrari 458 Italia,

Ferrari 458 Italia

or a silver Porsche Cayman,

silverporsche

or a red Lamborghini Huracan.

red lambo

and that is just a partial list of the cars I could have taken out.

Those of you who aren’t into cars might not appreciate just how cool this was but I am here to tell you that I can’t properly express how much it meant to me other than to say that I am a memory collector.

The Memory Collector

I don’t blog solely because I am compelled to write. I blog because memories are of paramount importance to me.

People and things can be taken from you, but not memories. Memories and education are yours for eternity, at least in theory.

I suppose you could make a case to suggest my premise is flawed, but that is not what this post is about.

It is about what happens when someone offers you the opportunity to give/receive extraordinary gifts and why I didn’t hesitate to say yes when I learned what was possible.

opportunities

It’s too bad my high school English teacher isn’t around anymore. I’d like to point out how I embedded that Emily Dickinson quote in a picture of the interior of a Lamborghini.

She’d appreciate knowing that I am still finding ways to make poetry and the poets relevant to me now. And I think she’d appreciate that I am still looking for ways to make ordinary into something extraordinary.

But the real difference between then and now is I am keenly aware of how tenuous our grip on life can be and why it is important to do more than just develop a bucket list of experiences we hope to have someday.

There are more than 100 items on my list. Some of them fall into the probable and possible and others are tagged as less so, but they all hold some kind of importance to me.

So it is with significant gratitude and transparency that I share these thoughts with you. This opportunity to drive a car like the Ferrari 458 Italia came because of a sponsored post.

It came because Cloud 9 Living asked if I was interested in writing a post about their company and how they provide gift-giving experiences.

I did it because when opportunity knocks you need to answer. I did it because I have very few regrets but the ones I do are massive and are there because I didn’t answer the damn knock.

I did it because wrestling about whether I should drive an exotic car, go zip lining, hang gliding, jetpacking, learn how to fly or be a fighter pilot for a day was the kind of mental gymnastics that are fun to engage in.

Ferrari 458 Italia engineI  settled for the driving experience for practical reasons.

It was something that I have always wanted to do but also something I wasn’t likely to do anytime soon. That wasn’t something I could say about the other experiences.

Don’t mistake that for me bad-mouthing the other stuff because I certainly am not but the reality I live in says that there is a good chance that on a family trip we’ll all choose to go zip lining.

There is a good chance that we might go on one of the weekend adventures but driving the car, well that was one that I wanted and wasn’t sure I could make it happen anytime soon.

Between the normal expenses of family life and all that comes with it, well it seemed more challenging.

I liked the idea of learning how to fly a plane or helicopter but set those aside because the opportunity was for a lesson and I figured if I really liked it I would be upset if I couldn’t keep going so the car seemed both fun and practical.

Personalized Instruction

One of the things I appreciated most about this experience was the personalized instruction that came with it.

I kid around about being 200 some odd pounds of five-year-old but at 46 I am smart enough to recognize this car is more powerful than anything else I have ever driven, including the Camaro I drove in college.

And hell, it is substantially more car than the minivan and or small SUV I use in daily life.

So I was more than pleased to learn that the experience came with a technical briefing about the car, a couple of laps around the track, and a professional driver who would be along to advise and guide me.

Jackandinstructor
Me and my instructor getting ready to head out onto the track.

Did I mention that I drove that beautiful car on a track?

That was another part of what caught my eye about this experience. There are car rental companies that provide exotic cars that you can rent but that is for normal driving and I didn’t want to take one for a spin in traffic.

I wanted to have a chance to see what they could do. I wanted to see what it means to push towards 200 miles per hour in a safe environment where I wouldn’t be concerned with police interference.

That wouldn’t be possible through the normal rental experience, but it was here.

Confession

After five laps I don’t think I can say I pushed it any faster than about 130 or so. Might have been a bit slower even, but it didn’t diminish the fun.

I wanted to go faster. I wanted to push harder and really make that car move for me, but this was my first time driving something so powerful and it was on a track that involved a few curves.

So I was cautious and a bit conservative at times.

My instructor pushed and encouraged me to move beyond my comfort zone. He was fantastic, but I just wasn’t ready to do more than I did.

But like I said it was incredibly fun and when it ended I wrestled with whether to buy more laps because I knew that each time around the track would lead to more comfort and a willingness to go faster.

I might go back and drive it again just to see what it is like a second time or I might go back and drive something else. I don’t know.

What I am certain of is that I have no problem recommending Cloud 9 Living and their services. They aren’t limited to the Los Angeles area either. Check out their website and you’ll find experiences are offered in cities throughout the United States.

If you do decide to use them don’t forget to use this promo code so that you can get a discounted rate on your experience.

XMASJACK15

BTW, if you are want to know about the car I drove feel free to check out the Ferrari 458 Italia Test Drive and Review.

Disclosure: If it wasn’t clear before let me remind you that I was compensated for my services on this post but all opinions are mine.

See you in the comments.

Drunk on Blogging Or Intoxicated With Writing

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Bradburyonwriting
If I told you I am dying because I haven’t had as much time to write as I want you would probably say I am exaggerating.

And I would agree there is a certain amount of hyperbole involved in that, but I would say I am feeling pressure to sit down and let the words flow freely.

Don’t have time to do it now, just a few moments to post this thought and links to posts I am thinking about. Might write about them later, might not.

Stories that are never written might as well be dead.
Stories that are never written might as well be dead.

But I can guarantee you’ll see a post about an experience I just had, a bucket list moment.

I promise you my best effort to provide something better than adequate about the memories we made this weekend. Got to run first, but stay tuned because it is coming soon.

It’s Not My Fault She’s Crazy & Hysterical

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genius
I can neither confirm nor deny having told someone’s mother that is not my fault she is crazy and hysterical. However the rumors about my having had to duck following the words that might not have been said might be true.

Maybe.

Someone might have said “relax” to someone else a couple of times for the sole purpose of trying to encourage them to do the opposite but I can’t confirm or deny such a rumor.

All I can do is suggest that you keep reading and determine for yourself whether an insouciant dad blogger who defenestrates his enemies would ever engage in scandalous behavior or do anything that might lead people to call him a scoundrel.

Trouble Knocked On The Door

There was a time when someone asked me what I would do if trouble knocked on the door and I told them I would answer.

“Why would you ever do such a thing?”

“Because trouble and I are old friends and a good friend looks out for his buddies.”

That didn’t go over so well so I tried to support it by suggesting I was paraphrasing what Groucho Marx said about friendship but they refused to listen so I suggested they remove the barbed stick that had been shoved up their behind.

It didn’t go over as well as I had hoped it would. In my head it was cool and witty, but apparently cool and witty didn’t accompany it through my lips.

Pity.

ugly

Maybe I should have quoted Mark Twain instead. Maybe an author of classic novels would have been better received than a comedian who starred in classic movies.

Have I mentioned that if you say you don’t like the Marx Brothers, Three Stooges, Princess Bride and or Seinfeld I begin to question your intelligence.

Is it wrong of me to say that out loud and not just wonder quietly to myself if you are an uptight prune lipped knucklehead who is in dire need of something that will cause you to loosen and lighten up.

You might even be the person or persons who are trying to kill blogging.

Ok, you might not be doing it intentionally but your grand desire to turn your cyber shack into a cybermansion of swag and might isn’t doing much to help the blogosphere.

It is not pushing people to write insightful, authentic and engaging content. It is not adding value. It is sucking the life out of us and not in the kind of way that makes us groan, smile and snore.

Damn you.

Don’t Take This Too Seriously

Don’t take these words too seriously. Life has been so bleeping busy I haven’t had time to write the way I want to and when that happens I get a little squirrelly.

Got way too much to do, way too much to write about and way too many ideas for changes I want to make here.

Been trying to decide if I want to go through the older posts here and try to clean them up. Posts like the excerpt I shared below where I wonder what the hell I was thinking.

It would be so much stronger if I cleaned it up a bit and added a picture. But it wouldn’t be as authentic if I did that and I am not sure that is a good thing.

I admit to suggesting that if she hoped for more than simple companionship she might consider spending time at the produce market.

Apparently this is not advisable nor is suggesting that he would probably die in robbing a drug store for used condoms. Don’t ask me to explain why” Preserve Your Memories

There are benefits and advantages to maintaining that authentic look/feel. It provides a nice benchmark I can use to help measure my improvement as a writer and storyteller.

Sometimes I look back and wonder if I have regressed, stagnated or just lost it. Sometimes I look back and smile because it is clear that things are better.

Most of the time I don’t pay much attention to either because there isn’t enough available to look back, look to the present and gaze upon the future.

That is preserved for the few moments between the time I close my eyes and fall asleep. That is when I think about how to grab the brass ring when my pony passes by.

Will I do so with the right or left hand or just leap off the horse and grab ahold with both. I probably should just use one hand, but I know myself far to well to believe that I’ll just stab at it.

Nah, I’ll send all two hundred something, something hurtling through the air with reckless abandon and hope that I don’t land on anything sharp.

That is the problem with aging, that shit hurts now. Ok, it always hurt a little but in the old days I didn’t care because when you are 19 you watch the bruise appear and fade away as fast as it showed up.

It is not like that anymore.

These days those motherfuckers act like you invited them to move in. They stick around for a bit.

And now friends I must head out into the woolly and wild outdoors because dad is a hunter-gatherer and I must go hunt down some food and build a fire to cook it upon.

Steak…it is what’s for dinner.

Your Blog Could Cure Insomnia

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new beginnings
One of my the best emails I ever received was the one where someone told me my blog could cure insomnia.  It was proof that someone, somewhere took the time to read my words and respond to how I made him/her feel.

It might not have been the kind of response I had hoped to get. It might not have been praise but it was something that included constructive criticism.

Something along the lines of please delete and destroy all of your posts and forget your passwords because you are an awful writer.

It reminded me of the good old days when crackpots, wingnuts and whackjobs would stroll through here and threaten to kill me and or have my children removed from my home.

Why?

They didn’t like my politics and didn’t appreciate my posts. But they read and read and read and responded with as much vitriol as they could master.

Mind you those letters had about as much sophistication as an adult with the writing skills of a three-year-old could muster.

That kind of feedback is few and far between. People are too busy fighting on Facebook and Twitter about things they don’t understand but claim expertise in to visit my blog.

Yep, the traffic here just isn’t what it used to be. My kids say it is probably because I shave my head but I say there is no correlation between the two.

And then I tell the kids their argument is as logical and sophisticated as most adults use on Facebook when debating politics.

Your Blog Could Cure Insomnia

It is too bad that this is an exaggeration and not truth because it could have changed my life.

If my blog really is/was a cure for insomnia I could license it out to some giant pharmaceutical manufacturer and make millions.

Hell I could look my children in the eye and tell them I am proud to say that we have become rich by bamboozling people into paying for something they don’t really need or have to have.

Or maybe not.

Maybe I could release the snark and tell them that my effort to become a better writer and storyteller had paid off in a most unexpected and unusual way.

Because if the blog cured insomnia it would probably mean that I was/am an awful writer whose devoid of skill. That might even bother me enough to get through my thick skin, but maybe not.

Millions of dollars and early retirement might be the kind of salve that eases the pain of such a wound.

What Writer’s Fear

I don’t know that I can speak for all writer’s about what we fear. Granted I could give you links to lists of things I fear like being eaten alive or being burned to death but that wouldn’t really address the question.

You wouldn’t hear that I wonder if I’ll ever complete a real story and sell it. You wouldn’t hear that I worry sometimes about whether my stories have enough substance to make them into the kind of tale that people would pay for.

Or maybe you’d hear that my biggest concern is that I’ll never get started and that I’ll fritter and waste my time talking about it and not doing it.

It is part of why I write each day and why I have been working on tying things together. It is part of why I have been thinking about what story I should tell first and how much reality/truth I’ll put into it.

whatisreal
More truth would make it easier to write now wouldn’t it or so Mr. Twain would have us believe.

It is too bad he is dead, I really would have liked to have met him. Better yet I’d love to have spoken with him about writing.

Taking Chances

If things go as I hope and plan this is going to be the week I get to cross off a couple of items on my bucket list. I am on track to make them happen and if they do, I will blog about it.

But I won’t identify them now, won’t say more until they happen because I am superstitious that way.

It reminds me of a conversation I had with my son about how honest we are with people. It was one of those conversations where we talked about taking chances and being vulnerable with others.

I told him that sometimes you have to give others a chance to see what lies beneath the surface and to experience our/your heart.

When he told me it sounded like it could be hard I nodded my head and told him that sometimes it is scary.

“What happens if they don’t treat you well?”

“They might break your heart. They might hurt you.”

“That doesn’t sound good at all.”

“It is not, but sometimes they open theirs and you discover things about life I can’t explain. You have to experience them.”

Millions of dollars and early retirement might be the kind of salve that eases the pain of such a wound.Click To Tweet

The funny thing is I didn’t tell him how many times I held back and how I sometimes wondered what would happen if certain people and I had real conversations. Conversations about what we really thought and felt.

He is a cautious lad and I was concerned that if I told him about how many times I protected myself it might make him hold back more.

I don’t want to be that kind of influence. I want him to figure this stuff out in way that works for him, don’t know what way that will be, but I am confident he will get there.

Change Is Coming

There is a good chance that I’ll change the theme here soon. I haven’t made a final decision but I am thinking about moving to something that provides a better reading experience.

Something that allows for bigger pictures and more storytelling opportunities. If you stick around I promise you’ll be among the first to know when I mix it up.

Don’t Fear The Teenage Driver

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2015-04-Life-of-Pix-free-stock-photos-st-madeleine-farm-hangar-campaign-veronique-marierWe bought the car when my wife was pregnant with our son because we thought it would make a good family car. I never imagined that 15 years later I would still be driving it and that the kid who helped break it in would want it for himself.

I remember sitting in the dealership wondering how many kids would one day fill the car and desperately trying to figure out if I would be able to buy a house for all of us.

Funny thing is a short time later I switched jobs and quadrupled my income so the house that seemed impossible to buy showed up the next year.

Fifteen years later the house and the decade we lived there is just a memory and the baby who was in utero has become a teenage boy who wants to know why I don’t understand how difficult his little sister can be.

In between telling me she won’t stop bugging him he says he doesn’t want me to get rid of my car because he wants it to be his.

It is a not a horrible idea but it is unlikely that I’ll hold onto the car.

Dad Needs A New Car

I started test driving cars a couple of weeks ago. The plan is/was to take some time to figure out what I really want and then wait a short while for the 2016 models to start coming in so that I could get a better deal on a 2015.

What I didn’t think about was how I would react.

What I didn’t think about was how every new car I have driven feels like it is a 1000 times better than my car. I feel kind of silly saying that because it should have been obvious to me.

Modern technology, lumbar support, seats that have coolers and heat warmers and a million other little details make it hard for my current steed to compete.

All it has are memories, a good run of safety and reliability and the fact that it was paid off years ago.

Those are solid traits that merit thought and consideration but they aren’t enough to quell the now burning desire to trade those wheels for something new.

But I am not sure if the safety and reliability I have long enjoyed are solid enough for me to be willing to pass it along to a teenage driver.

wisdomlife

“Dad, if they are no going to give you a good deal on the trade-in you ought to just hold onto the car and give it to me.”

I nod my head, smile and tell him I am almost 100 percent certain I’ll trade it in and use whatever they give me for it as part of my down payment.

“Dad, wouldn’t it be cheaper to just fix the car and give it to me.”

Part of me is pleased he is finally talking about driving because until recently it wasn’t a big deal to him. I never understood why he didn’t start talking about it sooner.

A driver’s license was one of those things that was never far from my teenage mind or my friends. The freedom we pictured that came with a license and a car was huge.

A while back I asked the boys if they were having similar experiences with their kids and they all told me they were having similar experiences.

Shared ambivalence among the teens made me wonder what had changed between now and when we were kids. I figure it has to do with how parents have collectively been more protective of our children than our parents were of us.

That is not to say our parents loved us less than we love our kids because I don’t believe that is true.

But what is true is that we were far more likely to walk to school, play outside and do things that were unsupervised and unscheduled than our children are.

One of the best things I ever did for my kids was to give them the opportunity to walk to and from school. It helped them gain confidence and mature.

But I am not sure if the safety and reliability I have long enjoyed are solid enough for me to be willing to pass it along to a teenage driver.Click To Tweet

My first car was a ’69 Dodge Dart Swinger and the only thing it was missing was a turret.

That sucker was a tank.

Ok, it was missing far more than a turret. It didn’t have air conditioning, power steering or almost any of the modern comforts we expect cars to have now.

It was just a giant hunk of steel wrapped around an engine, but that hunk of steel helped ease my parents’ concerns about me on the road.

The funny thing about it is that if you compared its safety ratings and records against the Honda I drive now I am confident my Honda would have the superior record.

Technically it should be perfectly fine for my kid to drive, but because he is my kid and I worry I want him to have a different car.

I am not talking about a brand new car because I don’t think would be appropriate but a car that isn’t 15 years old should be a better choice.

A used vehicle that is newer than something that rolled off the line in 2000 should have a few more safety features and benefits that my current one doesn’t have.

Don’t Fear The Teenage Driver

“Dad, I am going to be careful. I know that as a new driver I might make mistakes or have an accident, but I am going to be careful.”

I don’t tell him about all of the accidents I have seen or even mention any that I have been a part of. I don’t tell him all of the stories I know because now isn’t the time to get into it.

Instead I promise that when the time comes we’ll do our best to make sure he gets time behind the wheel.

“You become a better driver by practicing and learning how to focus on the road and what is happening around you. I worry less about your focus than I do about what happens when you encounter other drivers on the road.”

“Dad, don’t fear the teenage driver. Embrace him.”

I am working on it, I am just glad I have a little more time before I have to figure it all out.

Fifteen years went by in the blink of an eye.

I Hope That You’ll Be Happy

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Reasoned
Toby Keith is singing  I’m So Happy I Can’t Stop Crying and I am thinking about how many of the boys have gotten divorced and remarried.

Thinking about how many weddings I was a groomsman in and wondering if the pictures of those days have been burned, given away, hidden or forgotten about.

I don’t have an opinion on what should happen with any of them because it is not my business, but a man like me is curious about anything and everything.

When I look at things I often wonder how they were built, how many pieces were needed and how many people were involved in building whatever it is I am looking at.

What kind of machining was needed, who handled the fabrication, how many salespeople were involved and how long it might have taken to take an item from concept to production.

It is interesting to me and if you catch me staring off into space I just might be lost in thought about those very things. I just might be taking the car I am staring at apart and thinking about all of the different elements that go into selling it.

because it is not my business, but a man like me is curious about anything and everything.Click To Tweet

I don’t know much about my father’s dating history but I suspect there weren’t many women in his life besides my mother.

Can’t tell you for certain because even though I am a very curious fellow for some reason I never needed to know more about dad and his dating.

The primary reason I figure dad didn’t date much goes back to some advice he gave me about women when I was around 20.

It was the first time I had really had my heart broken and I was just gutted by it. Dad told me a bunch of things punctuated in not so many words that eventually I needed to suck it up and remember that she could be replaced.

Looking back it is kind of funny to think about because my father would never let me leave the house for a date without telling me to remember that I have sisters and I should treat women the way I wanted my sisters treated.

I haven’t any doubt that dad meant everything and that whatever he said to me was him giving his best effort to make me feel better.

Everything he did for my sisters and I makes it clear that he is and was focused upon our well-being.

He taught me what it means to be a father and I am grateful for it all but it doesn’t mean he didn’t do things that made me promise to myself that I would never do that to my kids.

Of course back then I didn’t have a clue about how challenging parenting can be and how often we just wing it.

I Hope That You’ll Be Happy

I overheard a conversation between my daughter and her best friend about boys. I didn’t catch all of it but I heard the other girl tell my daughter that sometimes you break up by telling boys that you hope they’ll be happy.

Part of me wanted to walk into the room and tell them how disingenuous I think that line is and that when it was said to me it usually did nothing but piss me off.

I didn’t want to hear “I hope you’ll be happy.”

If we were done, well we were done and it was better not to get into all of the stuff like “I hope you’ll be happy and we can be friends kind of thing.”

But I didn’t walk in and say anything because I didn’t think there was a need to get into it now. My daughter may like to pretend she is older than she is but she definitely knows she isn’t ready to start dating.

No reason to talk about how to break up with a boy when I am not really sure what sort of guidance/advice I’ll want to give.

I need to think about it a little. Think about how I can best help my girl and hope that when the time comes she feels comfortable speaking with me about it.

goforit
I don’t know when these conversations will start any more than I know what I will say when faced with them.

I know that I’ll want to give the kids something that is helpful, comforting and useful but I can’t guarantee I’ll come up with something that is better than what my father came up with for me.

Maybe 35 years from now they’ll think about how dad was sweet but completely misguided or maybe not.

But all things move in their time and if we are smart we don’t push them faster than they need to go so I’ll wait for these moments and hope that when they come I manage the situation well enough to have been helpful.

In the interim, I am beginning to hope that whenever my daughter hits her next big milestone it will be when her mother is around.

It is not because I am unwilling to try to help because I am, but what the hell do I know about dealing with periods from anything but a man’s perspective.

I know her mom and she have already had some conversations about it so she may be prepared, more or less.

Life is nothing but interesting.