His Profound Myopia

The tweet read, “I like you, get a grip” or something like that.

It made me wonder what the author’s intentions were because if he really likes me and desired to motivate me to rethink my position that tweet was misguided.

Hell, it wasn’t misguided, it is a prime example of how to encourage me to tell you that you’re profoundly ignorant, willfully blind and probably mentally ill.

Ok, that last part is my irritation rising to the surface and sharing its voice with the world.

But the other parts, well I mean them.

I was familiar with some of the author’s beliefs prior to their tweet and had already decided not to bother engaging with them about politics.

Not because I thought it was polite but because their aforementioned ignorance and unwillingness to consider other options made it seem like a waste of time.

His Profound Myopia

I’ll admit my initial response to the tweet was to send something back that expressed my displeasure in no uncertain terms.

Hell, they are lucky I don’t have a phone number because I would have unloaded upon them.

Some of it is because they deserve a verbal ass kicking and because I hope it would wake them up because we’re not living in normal times.

We’re not dealing with a good president surrounded by good people.

There is bad stuff going on and this fool is trying to gaslight us into believing that he is our savior and not an inveterate liar and manipulator.

He is not a steward of our rights and someone who understands how to reach across the table to negotiate compromise.

No, he is a Machiavellian fool who believes fear and cruelty should be part of how you crush the opposition.

So the foolish person who suggests I ought to get a grip better hope and pray that I am truly wrong here because their rights are getting crushed along with mine.

They better pray this doesn’t go down the dark path we are on because it will hurt all of us and the net result could be very ugly.

But what do I know.

Maybe I am wrong and the fool prefers to let the government tell us what to think and maybe they think women are silly little creatures who overreact.

Wouldn’t surprise me because their profound myopia sure makes it look like that.

The Undying Blog

Your friend Traveling Jack hasn’t given up blogging or forgotten about you and the joint that started the ride.

He still lives, breathes and writes albeit in other places but not without regard or thought for those who only know him here.

Sometimes he thinks about writing with the sort of blistering honesty he hasn’t used in quite some time.

It is not because he doesn’t want to or hasn’t felt the need in forever because he has but there are consequences to opening yourself up in that manner.

Consequences that you can’t control or predict with the sort of accuracy one would like.

You could end up as Ozymandias or the Passionate shepherd–maybe both.

The Undying Blog

So here at The Undying Blog we reaffirm that which we haven’t said in forever.

We say that those who remember the days of Judy, Hamilton Guy and Willie remember a love that doesn’t just flame out and go away no matter what others may say.

We say that ring of fire burns and that you have to make an active choice to follow or ignore.

The decision isn’t simple or easy and at this time doesn’t require a life long commitment nor does one decision preclude making another.

But that is now and who can say what we will experience down the road.

Maybe the words of the prophet shall come back to haunt us or maybe they shall lead to healing.

And let us say, “amen.”

Let us say some loves last and some fizzle but even those that fizzle can spark up again and remind us of the warmth they can provide.

And that warmth can be felt and seen, like a star in the night sky it can help you find your way back.

Confusion may accompany it, but only that caused by a refusal to take action.

The Aftermath Of The Storm

It’s almost a month since my father died and now I wander through the aftermath of the storm picking up the pieces.

Sometimes I feel like I am wandering on a sandy beach picking up pieces of driftwood, marveling at the majesty of nature.

One moment the storm is mighty and terrible and then it is gone and you can’t imagine a nicer, warmer and more inviting place to be.

And then there are those other moments where the sea rages and I fight to keep the waves from tossing our ship against the rocks.

Love hard and live hard.

It is how I roll.

The Aftermath Of The Storm

I started this blog in May of 2004.

Dad was on life support and the docs said he was done, but Steiner the Elder challenged Death to a bare-knuckles brawl and Death was dumb enough to accept.

Dad beat him.

He kicked his bony ass up and down the street and embarrassed him so badly that it took Death a decade to try to come back.

That sneaky bastard made an effort to slip in through the back door and we’ll give him credit because he did all he could to weaken dad.

And so we reached the place 14 years later where Death felt comfortable coming back and they went at it again.

When I got the call they told me dad wouldn’t make it through the night, so I did what I had done before.

I booked the first flight I could catch and drove like Batman chasing the Joker to the hospital.

Dad was still conscious, still fighting but in more pain and distress than I had ever seen before.

He made it five full nights beyond the doctor’s prediction.

Intellectually it all makes sense and I understand exactly what happened. My father had a pretty damn good life.

We had lots of time to talk about all that was going on and we said most of what had to be said.

I say most because you never really feel like you got enough time. I expected it but the truth i I am surprised at how much harder this is.

Surprised that as an almost middle-aged man there have been moments that reminded me of being a 10-year-old boy who just wanted to play catch with his dad.

The silence is deafening and though I accept it I will never like it.

One day at a time is the new mantra.

What Comes Next

We move on from Words Are For You to a month of silence into the new place where we wonder what comes next.

I don’t have the time to provide a proper post that fills in the blanks, gaps, nooks, and crannies for what I am referring to here.

This isn’t intended to be a teaser where I give you a taste of something that will catch your eye and make you anxiously await the next installment.

It’s just one man saying one of the hardest and biggest changes a person can face has come about and now that it is over I am standing on the other side trying to catch my breath.

This is the first moment I have had to think about and consider what I want to do, what I ought to do and what I need to do.

It is the first moment where I can try to wipe away the fog and figure out what comes next.

Life is forever changed and for once that is not an exaggeration. The lack of hyperbole in that underscores the intensity of the moment and the profound sense of “WTF” just happened.

I guess I am going to find out.

Words Are For You

These words are for you.

Your ears are who they are meant for.

Along with the hope you’ll hear, understand and listen.

No one knows for certain what will happen if we walk down one path.

But we know alone and apart is an unwanted companion.

Fear says they won’t be heard or understood.

Hope says fear is foolish and far too anxious.


Hope says be patient and what will be will unfold.