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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 2016

A Game Called Fear

July 19, 2016 by Jack Steiner 4 Comments

It is fitting that White Rabbit is playing now and that Grace Slick is filling my ears because the rhythm of her words is helping my monkey mind focus on what is real.

I am smack dab in the middle of the spiral staircase on the game called fear and there is a significant battle being fought inside my head.

Rational thought and fear are grappling with each other, muscles straining they’re both determined to gain control of the situation.

staircase-252836 It frustrates me to circle back and have to fight wars I have won again and I can’t help but wonder why I lost the ground that I had gained.

If the kids asked me to explain it to them I’d tell them the fear I am feeling is normal and that I recognize it is not based upon anything rational.

I’d tell them this is how life goes sometimes and say the best way I know how to deal with it is head on.

You have to power through it.

heartandfear
If the kids pushed me to say more I’d tell them about the chirping and hissing noises inside my head and say the soft whispers that say “I can’t” will lose to the clanging of the “I can.”

I’d tell them that there are a handful of things in life that truly frighten me and most of them are things I don’t give energy to because I refuse to give power to things/people that don’t need it.

And then I’d tell them sometimes there are moments like now where the battle for control rages like a wildfire and I have to really focus.

They already know the easiest way to determine if dad is nervous is to see how many times I visit the bathroom.

But they don’t know how important it is to me to show them I won’t be stopped, slowed down but not stopped.

That is not bravado, it is fact and the only person I need to prove it to is me.

Why?

Because there is no stricter master or bigger critic of me than me.

A Game Called Fear

I suppose the reason I describe fear as a game is because it takes some of the edge off it and makes it easier for me to put it all in perspective.

That is critical, perspective that is.

It is one of the tools I use to create a measured response and to think before I act.

That is not something the old monkey mind likes very much because he wants to take action immediately.

He does better when occupied and doesn’t like anticipation very much and that is why I feeling a bit crazed today.

Got a big meeting tomorrow and if it goes well it will mean some very big changes are coming. Good changes, things that will have a positive impact upon my family.

It is all stuff I have been pushing for and I am in a position now where I can almost reach that brass ring, or at least I think it is the brass ring.

There is a possibility I am wrong and that things won’t go as I hope.

But my gut says otherwise and I am following it, in spite of the significant discomfort because that is fear.

That is uncertainty.

Dammit, I hate waiting but sometimes that is what is required.

people think

Take One More Step

A thousand years ago when Steiner the minor wasn’t in the middle of high school I’d watch him go cruising around the house.

That teenager of mine doesn’t remember how when he would let go of the wall or the table and cross an empty space I would tell him to take one more step.

I’d hold out my hand and say come get it.

The first few times he didn’t quite make it to me. He’d come close and realize he wasn’t holding onto anything and then fall on his butt.

“Get up and walk. You already took a million steps, trust yourself. You have already proven you can do it, come to dad.”

Eventually he realized he had taken those million steps and trusted himself enough to walk to me.

And then he began to run…everywhere.

That is how I am going to win this game, how I am going to beat it.

I am going to remember that I don’t need to to hold onto anything to keep moving forward.

One step at a time is all it takes.

Filed Under: Children, Life

Five Posts Worth Reading

July 18, 2016 by Jack Steiner Leave a Comment

I am jammed for time and racing to get things done but I haven’t forgotten about the blog or the good people that visit here.

If things go well I’ll have fresh content up later today or tomorrow but in the interim here are posts worth reading that you may or may not have seen.

  1. The Best Cover Letter….Ever
  2. There Are No Coincidences
  3. Why Your Post Sucks and Everyone Hates Your Blog
  4. What Happens To Your Facebook Account When You Die?
  5. 1 Foolproof Way To Become a Better Writer
  6. He Died A Hero
  7. The GermoPhobe
  8. Donuts

Oops, guess there are more than five posts here. 🙂

Filed Under: Writing

True Confessions About Real Problems

July 15, 2016 by Jack Steiner 2 Comments

There is a rhythm that comes with my best writing.

A song that sometimes has words and sometimes is devoid of them but never fails to help find my way.

The rhythm sets the pace and helps create the tone of the pieces and posts that I paper on so many different blogs and sites online.

Sometimes the music and I lose touch and the disconnect creates a different sort of chaos than I am used to.

One that prevents me from writing with the sort of reckless abandon I like to write at.

Instead of feeling confident that the words flowing from my fingertips settle softly into the right places and at the proper paces I get anxious.

Anxious because I know I am not getting it done and that the words don’t meet the standard I set for myself.

Disappointment and I grow very close during these moments but I do my best never to become its favorite acquaintance.

Instead I just keep pushing myself to pump out the words because sooner or later that musical muse will be found and the rhythm returns.

bora-borared-685303 True Confessions About Real Problems

Sometimes I make a point to take a hard look at my life and create a list of true confessions about real problems.

It’s a simple check I use to prevent myself from wallowing in fake misery.

For example, I have been thinking about the costs involved with blogging and trying to figure out if it is time to make some changes.

I am not talking about the less tangible costs such as the time invested in writing and promoting but the ones we can easily track.

Hosting, themes, domain name registration all come to mind.

Hosting is where I am feeling the most pain because at the moment it feels like I might be paying too much.

I have done some very basic research into other hosting companies and plans and felt like banging my head into the wall.

It is not because it is complicated but because these changes I keep writing about are wearing me down a bit.

Feels a bit like I am juggling chainsaws and flaming torches so I can’t be cavalier about catching them.

I know enough about tech to move it all by myself but not enough to feel confident that I can do it without struggling.

That doesn’t mean I will struggle, but I very well might encounter some real challenges and I don’t have a ton of time to dedicate to figuring it all out.

So I really need to look into hiring someone to do it and I don’t have a ton of spare cash that I can dedicate to it.

****

That is problem and one that I don’t take lightly but it is not as serious as when I was unemployed and the bank was trying to take my house.

Not as serious as when I wasn’t sure how I would come up with the cash to put food on the table.

Those were real problems.

Hosting is a problem, but not like those.

thosechallengesinlife

Ten Years Of Perspective

A decade ago I wasn’t just a home owner.

I was in the midst of remodeling my house, had two kids in private school and was the sole provider.

Dear old dad was the man, the guy who had a successful career and was doing well enough to cover everything on my own.

Man I was proud of that, so very proud that I had figured out how to do it all.

And then I was given a personal tour of life after shit happens. 

It started out slowly and then snowballed into something much larger and more challenging.

We said goodbye to private school, the house and so much more.

When Rocky talks about life beating you to your knees I understand because that is what happened to me.

Didn’t matter how hard I tried or what I did because it all failed.

I failed.

It crushed me.

Took a long time before I could say it aloud our admit it.

Tastelife

I never gave up, not completely.

There were moments when I wanted to and times when I wanted to let my anger/frustration free from where I kept them chained up.

But I didn’t and I clawed my way back to the surface.

That is and was part of why I say I tasted life because I have known the good and the bad.

It changed me and I am not who I was when I waltzed into the storm because that man never conceived of a problem he couldn’t solve in a short time.

Can’t blame him because until that time it was all he knew and experience had proven him correct.

About Protective Big Brothers

In a very short time my baby is going to turn 12 and all hell will break loose.

That last part isn’t true but sometimes when she asks me to tell her stories about what happened when she was born I say all hell broke loose.

She rolls her eyes at me and gives me that “DAAAAD, that is not nice” that preteen girls sometimes come up with.

Anyhoo, she informed me that she would like to have a birthday party with boys and girls. I said fine and said we need to pick a time/place.

Shortly thereafter she began texting with some other girls to try to figure out what date was best and all hell broke loose.

One of the other girls started yelling via text and said my daughter couldn’t use any of the dates she had proposed.

Somehow her older brother convinced her to let him text this other girl and my boy used his finest diplomacy by using four letter words.

Part of me was very pleased to hear he stuck up for his little sister and part of me was irked, because the kid knew those words were probably not going to solve the problem.

But my little man did it and when I suggested he might try a different approach next time he told me he would take whatever consequences came.

I asked why and he said no one is allowed to talk to his sister that way.

All things considered I guess we have done something right in raising them to look out for each other.

And though this party may be a pain-in-my-ass to get arranged I don’t mind it because in the scheme of things it is not really a problem.

Not so long ago I wouldn’t have been able to do anything and now I can, so I am grateful for that.

Filed Under: Children, Life

What Happens When Your Blog Declares A Mutiny?

July 14, 2016 by Jack Steiner 4 Comments

There is nothing better than trying to write a snarky post than discovering your attempt to be sarcastic and funny was derailed by technical errors.

It is kind of frustrating because if you believe as I do that pictures are worth a thousand words you’ll understand why I was irked to discover that two didn’t show up in the post.

The strange thing is that I can see them in the editor but can’t figure out why they aren’t rendering in the final output.

And Then He Saw The Light

Three minutes into writing the post you are reading I realized there was an issue with the shortcodes I used to make the pictures stretch across the page.

When I pulled those from the post the pictures rendered and voila, a chorus of angelic voices rained down upon me from the heavens.

gladiator-1249010
I know the damn blog wasn’t too happy about that because it sent the gladiator in the picture above to teach me a lesson.

Sadly he didn’t fare so well and since this is a family blog I can’t show you the pictures of the beating I just gave him.

What I can tell you is that this experience makes for a good teaching moment so later on I’ll have a conversation with my children and talk about the importance of sticking with problems.

Don’t know if we’ll have that discussion tonight, tomorrow or next week but we will talk about how perseverance and determination can be your best allies in solving problems.

themoon

Life and responsibilities call but I’ll make time to share another thought here.

I keep hinting at some of the things going on behind the scene and referencing how I expect some big changes to be on the horizon.

Since I am a superstitious man I won’t provide many details because I don’t want to jinx anything and then say things took a step forward today.

Nothing is set and things can turn on a dime, but damn if I am not a mix of nerves.

Scared it will happen and scared it won’t.

Feels a bit like I am walking on the razor’s edge and dancing in the fire hoping I am not cut or burned.

It is important to me to share that so that I can record this moment and to let my kids know down the line that dear old dad isn’t some tough guy who never says he is afraid.

Am I scared?

Yeah, but it is really the good kind of nerves and I won’t let fear dictate how I live my life.

Sometimes you have to make a move and take a chance.

I can’t tell people that when I die I want to say I lived hard unless I do my best to actually do it.

The goal is to die feeling like I did my best to have chased after my dreams and provided for my family.

Can’t do that without making some mistakes or chalking up a few regrets but I prefer those that come because of action.

Time to strap in, the ride is just starting.

Filed Under: Children, Life

Your Parent Blog Is My Cure For Insomnia

July 13, 2016 by Jack Steiner 4 Comments

Morning has broken and I am exhausted.

That is because I just fought off the Canadian 993rd Polar Bear Army and the seven Englishmen who were offended because I disagreed with their opinions.

Told the Angry Canucks that I love our little brother to the North and think the Monopoly money they call currency is cute.

Most of them were too polite to say I offended them but that didn’t stop an angry Habs fan from throwing a handful of Looneys and Tooneys at me for saying PK is overrated.

Last but not least let’s not forget the Man U fan who didn’t think it was funny when I asked him to speak American.

He ranted for a moment damn near lost it when I told him William Wallis should have won the war and burned the nation to the ground.

Guy tried to accuse me of promoting genocide but I eviscerated his remarks with a few comments ab0ut the empire and then for good measure made fun of his football team.

In theory that elevated my troll rating to somewhere above hated but below despised.
grouchio_idiot

I’ll let you decide whether a man who shares the story about a thief who breaks into a home and cooks a pork roast in a Kosher kitchen should be taken seriously.

Or maybe I should say I’ll let you decide how seriously he should be taken because someone who speaks in third person and uses the ‘Royal’ We to describe parent blogs as a cure for insomnia might have some issues.

Then again maybe issues isn’t the right word, maybe problem is a better descriptor.

Because my problem is that I find a ton of your blogs to be devoid of humor, emotion and substance.

Maybe it is because some of you are so desperately trying to be noticed by brands and other blogs you tear the soul out of your writing and publish sterile nonsense that won’t hurt or offend.

You publish posts about the great product you got for free and limit or avoid real criticism.

Not every product is amazing or great.

Some of them suck or have things that suck.

I don’t care if you write sponsored posts provided you are authentic in your writing.

If it is great there is nothing wrong with saying that but then again there is nothing wrong with saying that it needs some work.

Constructive criticism is a good thing. If I read your review I want to know what you think and not feel like you were nice because you hope to get more crap.
226Hred

Tell me you love the life size teddy bear costume but that because of how it is made you crapped down the side of it in the outhouse at the fair.

Show me the raw and authentic side of your life and I’ll nod my head and cheer you on. I’ll tell you that being the father of teens and preteens is really freaking hard.

I’ll say The End Of Goodnight Kisses was hard and that I wasn’t completely ready for it.

I’ll tell you that the kids have figured out that I don’t have all the answers and come up with really good questions.

Heck, there is a lot I’d like to say and share assuming that people are listening and or reading.

Thing is I am not sure how much of that is really happening any more.

Engagement & Noise

I won’t bore you with a long rant about engagement levels have changed since I began this gig.

Won’t spend a lot of time talking about what was and or offering hypotheses about content shock and or whether people are just tired in general.

I’ll just say that my traffic numbers are down a bit but not so much that I expect engagement to have plummeted the way it has.

And I’ll say the first thing I do is ask myself if my content is simply boring the readers.

Some of that is to be expected but I also know from conversations with others that similar things are going on across the blogosphere.

And I know that as I mentioned I simply stopped showing up at some blogs because the real and authentic content I like is non existent.

You don’t have to write for me, especially when I say that I write first for me and then for you.

But I would be remiss if I didn’t mention why some places see me less and less.

It is just not that interesting anymore so I am looking for new places and spaces.

I figure people do the same with their evaluation of this joint.

Don’t mistake this for my desire to go back in time because I am not trying to turn back the clock, but it would be nice to see a new beginning where the content and conversation were more interesting.

I don’t know, maybe it is just me.

Got to run now, the Polar Bear army is back at the base of my castle.

Filed Under: Blogging

The Mad Butcher

July 11, 2016 by Jack Steiner 2 Comments

The thief cooked a pork roast, two cans of beans and drank two six packs of soda.

Presumably under cover or darkness they used my best skillet and a pinch of my best spices to prepare their meal.

Can’t tell you if they enjoyed their food or whether they toasted their ill gotten gains in my kitchen because their were no cameras to record the incident.

What I do know is what they ate because of the dirty cans and wrappers they left behind and the confusion about how they ended up in my kitchen.

Because I can’t tell you if their Pork Roast celebration was a fluke or if it was intentionally celebrated in my…Kosher kitchen.

I suppose before we go further I ought to clarify that while I keep a Kosher home the truth is that kitchens, bedrooms, and bathrooms don’t eat so they don’t care what they eat.

But if you go with the personification of objects a certain confusion might arise so I choose to nip it in the bud before it out of hand, to steal the bacon of it is truth as it were.

meat-1030729

For a long moment I stood inside the  entrance of my kitchen and tried to imagine what had taken place in there and why.

Blame it on countless hours of crime shows watched and this nagging feeling that I could be like Sherlock Holmes and solve the crime.

Bu first I had to use this visualization technique I had once seen on a late night informercial, one that could help me lose weight and stop smoking as well as play amateur gumshoe.

****

Scotland the Brave is the first and only song I learned to play on the bagpipes.

For years I believed it was because my parents ran into financial difficulties and couldn’t pay the music teacher but it turned out not to be true.

It was because my mother believed that Ms. Mahoney, my Irish music teacher had the sort of feelings about me a music teacher isn’t supposed to have.

Or so I once was told by one of my grandmothers.

Some years after that my maternal grandfather cleared up any misconceptions I had about that and said mom killed the lessons because she was worried that Ms. Mahoney would have allowed me to teach myself about the finer parts and points of women.

It probably would help if I mentioned I was 17 when I took the bagpipe lessons with Ms. Mahoney, my Irish music teacher.

Ask me why I describe her that way and I’ll have to go into a 39 minute long story that isn’t relevant now but describes in detail why it is important to mention I learned how to squeeze a Scottish music box while being taught by the Irish woman I wanted to be squeezing.

Damn if I didn’t want to be the one responsible for making Mary Katherine Mahoney confess her sins to G-d or at least scream his name.

****

Mary Katherine isn’t related to the thief who used my kitchen to cook their meal, at least I don’t think she is.

I haven’t seen or heard from her in thirty years or so and have no reason to believe she was involved or is The Mad Butcher.

Still it is such an odd and unusual case it wouldn’t be more ridiculous or crazy if she was part of it all.

Really, the long lost music teacher who was the great crush of my youth would be exactly the person who broke into my home to cook a pork roast and some beans in my kitchen.

That would be the crowning moment of the general insanity surrounding my life. Really dear universe it would be the cherry on top of the sundae.

Might be fun to prove that Twain was right when he said Truth is Stranger Than Fiction.

Hell, all you have to do to confirm that is look back upon some of the recent events that led up to the Butcher’s arrival at my pad.

Fortune ‘Smiles’ Upon Me

Make no mistake about it, I never enjoy getting hit. I am not one of those guys who wishes that I could be an MMA fighter. I don’t need to prove my masculinity by stepping inside the ring to see who is the last man standing.

That is not because I am a pacifist or have any moral issues with hurting another human being. I don’t. Never have. Don’t go out of my way looking for trouble but if it finds me I am not always good about turning away.

I should be. It would be the smarter move to walk away. It would have saved me a lot of trouble but I am not that guy. I don’t play or consciously think about it. I just do it and when I do it is without concern for consequences.

Last Saturday night I went out for a drink. Didn’t have a particular destination in mind or a need to be with friends. I just wanted to have a beer and watch whatever ballgame might be on the television.

It wasn’t a night for small talk nor was I an angry or upset. I just felt like being among people but not with people.

I chose a local college bar. It fit the bill of what I wanted and was close enough to my place to not worry about how to get there and back. All I needed were my own two feet. That suited me just fine. Human powered transportation. Environmentally friendly, reliable, steady and safe, mostly.

Most nights it would have gone down exactly as I expected it to. I would have walked over, ordered my beer and burger and eaten my meal in quiet. This time I pulled the Joker out of the deck.

And I knew it.

Hadn’t been there more than five minutes when one of the kids bumped into me and gave me a glassy-eyed stare that told me he was too drunk to recognize that there are some people you just don’t mess with.

I didn’t say excuse me. He had bumped into me and frankly I wasn’t in the mood to kiss his twenty-something ass. I saw his two buddies and the girls they were speaking to. I knew that he was going to act like an asshole. I knew that an apology would have defused the entire situation, but when trouble comes looking for me I don’t flinch.

So when he called me an asshole I punched him in the face and watched him crumble. If this would have been a movie I would have been worried about his little friends who most certainly would have joined in, but it wasn’t and they didn’t.

I finished my beer and I walked out of the place. Not because I was asked to leave or was afraid of getting arrested but because the little prick soured me on the place.

Two blocks south of the joint a man stepped out from between two cars and pointed a gun at my head. He didn’t look like the speed freaks you sometimes see roaming around the edges of society. Didn’t look like any of the junkies I have seen at all. His eyes were clear and his hands were steady.

“Give me your wallet.”

His voice was flat and there was no intonation in it.

“I don’t have a wallet.”

For a moment there was a flicker of something in his eyes and then it was gone. He walked up to me, put the gun against my head and repeated “Give me your wallet.”

Make a note, don’t ever point a gun at me unless you intend to use it. I don’t take kindly to it and I don’t appreciate being threatened. I am not afraid of dying. I am afraid of being crippled by some jerk off who can’t shoot straight.

And when I get scared I tend to get angry.

So I reached up and wrapped my hand around his wrist and pulled the gun away from my head. When he didn’t shoot I realized what had just happened and I really got angry. One quick twist and a small step to my left and that gun wasn’t in his hand anymore.

Smarter men would have taken the gun and run away. Smarter men would have gotten out of there, but I proved not to be that smart.

Instead of running I took the butt of the gun and hit the guy in the head with it twice. “Don’t ever put a gun against my head unless you are going to pull the trigger.I hope that hurts motherfucker.”

And then I dropped the gun next to where he lay in the street and resumed walking home. Probably would have gotten there without incident, but he shot me. Clipped me on the left side and put me on my ass.

Maybe I should taken the gun with me or fixed things so that he couldn’t use his hands, but I didn’t. Remember when I said that I pulled the Joker from the deck that night, well I think getting shot qualifies as one hell of a reminder.

The Joker

Some people have all the luck in the world and some people, well they have none. Me? I am somewhere in the middle.

Cop said that I should be grateful that I didn’t die and that I ought to go to church and say thanks in person. A smart man would have just nodded his head, but I am not that smart so I told him that g0d was for suckers.

Apparently my luck extended to finding the one cop that was easily offended but because I am not smart enough to keep my mouth shut I made it worse. I told him that of all people cops should know better.

With all the bad shit you see you really have to be stupid to believe that some mighty being protects the murderers, crackheads and pedophiles.

He might have let that go, might have given me a break but I took it a step farther and told him the guy on the cross was the model for the zombie shows. That sent him right over the edge and it is how I got handcuffed to a hospital bed.

“Getting shot doesn’t make you a hero, it just makes you another stupid jerk.”

I almost responded to him, but by that time I was more interested in getting the nurse to give me another shot of whatever would numb the dull ache.

I’d like to tell you that was the end of a very long day but instead it was really the beginning of a very long night. I told you, I pulled the joker in the deck that day.

playing-cards-665390

Mary Katharine made a comment once about bad boys and how they gave woman the kind of tickle they remembered.

I like to think that is what made me more interested in running towards trouble than walking away.

Maybe because it almost makes my stupidity seem less stupid, that it helps me become more noble.

I am pretty sure most people wouldn’t agree with that or see any sort of connection between the fight in the bar and my behavior but a man has to try or something like that.

Hell, every good hero has an interesting back story like the Mad Butcher…right.

Editor’s Note: Getting Shot Doesn’t Make You A Hero was integrated into this story as were additional fragments of fiction. Stay tuned, more to come.

Filed Under: Fragments of Fiction

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