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

Jack Steiner

How To Define A Dying Blog

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“Jack, is your blog dying, or is it dead?”

I asked the writer of the email how to define a dying blog but I didn’t get a response to the question I asked.

Heck, I didn’t get a response or any indication they received it, not even a remark about how annoying it can be to answer a question with another question.

We could build a 1000-word post on this without much effort and could probably go deeper but there is no interest on my part.

I am on vacation and if the subject doesn’t move me I don’t intend to move. Nonetheless in this circumstance, I am prepared to share a few thoughts.

A blog doesn’t have to have to comments to be considered a living blog, just new posts or comments that advance/continue the discussion on old posts.

You don’t need a specific editorial calendar or schedule of new posts either. You just need to update it periodically and voila, the blog is a living thing.

The mighty JackB isn’t dead though you could argue it has periods of semi-hibernation compared to what it used to be.

If you keep visiting you’ll keep seeing new posts and various changes that could include a resumption of a daily or weekly update.

Remarks of my death, the JackB are greatly exaggerated.

Five Minutes Of Writing

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Got five minutes to tell you about how I started this blog as a self-hosted venture that was designed to take my Blogger blog into a more professional setting.

Had no idea what it would become or where it would go but the Shmata Queen told me she thought I was a fine writer and that I was making a mistake by not working with my gift.

Wasn’t certain I agreed with her about having a gift because I never thought much about my writing compared to others.

Figured I wasn’t as good as some and better than others. Based upon some nonscientific gut feelings and some awards I won for pieces I wrote elsewhere.

Never worked hard on trying to take this to the cliche people call Next Level because if I had I would have done things differently than I did.

Would have spent more time trying to produce the kind of content that resonated with many instead of a few.

It would have built a bigger readership and led to more opportunities

Did ok for myself overall and well, here I am 18 years later still writing, but not like I used to. Too many things going on in too many places so this one doesn’t get the coverage it used to.

Can’t say it will stay like this or not, life has shown me things change and not on our schedule.

Who Can It Be Now?

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Who could that be at this hour?

I jumped when the phone rang and managed to knock the cork board off of the wall. I am not a fan of late-night or early-morning telephone calls because they rarely offer good news.

“I am in trouble and I need your help. They’re back.”

It took a moment for me to realize I wasn’t dreaming and a moment longer to grunt in reply.

There was an awkward silence followed by a plea for my help and reminders of promises I made. I said I would do what I could and hung up the phone.

Lay down in the dark and stared at the ceiling and made a mental note about what supplies to pick up and where to get them. I figured I had about two days to get it together before they found me.

Public transportation was out. There wouldn’t be any planes or trains on this trip and I probably wasn’t going to be able to get any help from any of the old crew.

We had all gone our separate ways years before and intentionally not shared the details of where we were going. We did it for safety reasons. No one was invisible but we figured if things went to hell it might give the others time to prepare.

I didn’t have time to worry about the others. If I found a way I would send word to them and if not, well they were all capable people.

Right now I had two days worth of work and a three-day drive to prepare for.

The clock on the desk read 2:49 AM.

Might as well close my eyes again and try to get another two hours of sleep because once I start moving sleep is going to be scarce.

Closed my eyes and tried to sleep and then the other memories hit me like a torrent of water and I remember why I had to walk away from her…and them.

****

My mind said it took morning twice as long to arrive as normal but the alarm I set the night before made it clear the laws of physics hadn’t been broken.

The day was still 24 hours long and the drive would take just as long as it always had but this time it would be harder.

Not just because of age, time or any of the feelings I was trying to set aside but because the world was more connected than ever.

The digital revolution and prevalence of smartphones and a hundred social media platforms would make it easier than ever to be found.

He thought about ignoring the call and promises once made but didn’t waste time thinking about how to do it because he was never going to be able to do so.

Some bonds never release you from their grip no matter how hard you try or what tools you use to free you from their fetters.

In a moment it would be time to walk away from the one and run towards the other.

The Greatest Dad Blogger You Never Read

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A colleague started a blog last month but I didn’t read any of their posts nor comment on what they were doing.

My time is more limited than it has been and my interest level was low. Blame that upon their poor email writing skills.

They lack structure, contain grammatical errors and serve as a tool for curing insomnia so I had limited reason to believe a blog would be an improvement.

Fate smiles upon the judgmental so I was paired with them for an assignment and they asked me if they remembered hearing that I had worked in marketing.

“Yes, I have some experience there.”

“I recently started writing one of those blogs people do.  I want to use it to make money. I am going to make some Tik-Tok videos and do some other stuff that I’ll place there. But I need to get people to read it. Could you look at it and tell me what you think. I need to know how to promote it.”

I told him to remember some people are internet famous and that doesn’t translate into income.

“Hell you could be talking to the greatest dad blogger you never read.”

“What is a dad blogger?”

I reframed and refocused the conversation about the task that pays the bills and let the opportunity to market myself go.


Anonymity

I am semi-anonymous online and that is mostly by choice. Some of you know my name and some have broken bread in-person multiple times.

Most of that is by choice, but there are a few who found out through other means and though there are good stories tied into that we’ll set them aside for the moment.

There are more than 10,000 posts in this blog on a wide variety of topics and a limited upside to being read for professional colleagues.

Should they be found I am confident and comfortable with having a discussion about them but my preference is to not engage.

We’re living in a time in which people are less tolerant and more sensitive on a wide variety of topics and I am sometimes a blunt instrument in my approach.

Why engage and risk irritation if I don’t have to.

That is tied into why this blog doesn’t have pictures of my family or the names of my children. They are entitled to living their own lives and creating their own digital footprints.

It would have been more profitable for me to take a different approach.

Had I used their names and pictures I could have gotten more brand ambassadorships, more sponsorships and more opportunities to become a bigger brand.

That is not how I roll and I know too many stories about other bloggers whose children are irritated about the stories.

It is also why I slowed down on some of the stories as they aged.

My oldest was 3 when I started this and they’ll be 22 this year. If people search for them online they will not find stories they can identify as belonging to him and I am good with that.

My baby will be going to college in the fall. She has no reason to worry about admissions officers turning her down or commenting on anything written about her.

She hasn’t done anything that would serve as grounds for not being accepted but you never know what or how people will interpret things.

Bottom line is my job isn’t to just teach them how to grow up and be good people, it is to protect them however I can…forever.

Most of that has gone through the natural evolution that comes with their not being little children anymore.

They don’t live a life in which they are enveloped in bubble wrap or prevented from taking risk.

Sometimes that is hard because I have seen them make choices I think are questionable, but I let it go because that is how you learn.

They have done a stellar job overall. But you never stop worrying completely and that is ok, it comes with the job description.

The Shmata Queen Tales Or Tells

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Won’t be long before I am to pack my bags and get moving again because the Traveling Jack show can’t stay grounded forever.

Can’t say how long it will be before the Shmata Queen returns as a regular and we move from the Shmata Queen tales to tells because the woman has much to say.

We don’t agree on everything but enough to keep it interesting.

Hell if she was asked about what we can talk about and was honest she would tell you we can go for weeks.

Doesn’t happen much anymore because life has gotten in the way but there is no telling when it might start again and how long it will go.

Kids will be out and there will be fewer distractions and the burning questions will be placed in a position in which it will be obvious if they aren’t answered.

We’ll have to make some decisions then as do many others.

The best part of it all is that “then” is so undefined. Could be a week, a year, a decade or a lifetime.

Could be.


Traveling Jack

Going to head back to see my old man for the first time since his unveiling and it is weighing on me more than I like.

I think it is is because it is the first trip back that isn’t tied into going to visit while he was sick and we had the unknown of how long we had or because he was going into the hospice.

Beginning of a new chapter and I am torn between running towards it and staying away.

Won’t stay away because it is not in me. It is not how I was raised and it is not who I am.

But there is a piece of me that recognizes in a way it feels like he is dying again and I am in a new state of mourning.

The pain is visceral and I think it bothers me in part because it feels irrational. He died in 2018. I saw his body.

I took that time to say goodbye but here I am feeling a bit like it is happening again and this time I can’t look him in the eye and say anything.

This time I’ll sit at his grave and share the silence as we did so many times before knowing the only one to break it will be me.

I am mostly ok with it and not just because I have to be.

Kind of glad the kids won’t be with me because this time I just want to be his son and take that moment without looking out for them.

He won’t mind my saying that but if they were there he would expect other behavior and so would I.

This one is for me.

 

What’s A Little Chaos On A Saturday Morning

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Eventually the Shmata Queen will get back around to read this and I can tell her the 198 texts she sent me while writing this are why it is relatively short.

Not really complaining because the conversation and information is important.

We’re exchanging thoughts, ideas and information about the hostage crisis here which we both experienced though in slightly different ways.

Neither of us were physically there but we were on the livestream and had it not been for Covid there is no guarantee that we could have been or not been there when the terrorist showed up.

It is disconcerting and infuriating that this happened yet again and that we expect there to be another incident.

Certainly we hope that is not the case, but prudence and experience dictates that preparations need to be made for ourselves and the institutions we support, believe in and attend.

Put Anger Aside

I told the kids to remember in a crisis situation we need to put anger aside and be smart. We need to do our best to be logical, rational and deliberate in our actions.

Let emotion drive you during such things and bad stuff can happen. I also told them not to expect to be automatons or that I expect them to be such.

Irks me to no end, but I operate in reality as the world is and push to build the world we want to live in while recognizing the one we are actually in.

Be angry after. Use it to motivate you to take necessary actions, but prepare and try eliminate, reduce and avoid the problems up front as best you can.

It is a sad statement, but important.