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

Children

Into The Depths Of Hell

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The boy shares a story with me and then wanders back into his cave.

It is dark inside and there are no torches nor candles that can be used to light a path but I press on, calling out to him.

He doesn’t answer so I start talking and tell him I know he is listening.

The darkness is blacker than night and I am consistently shocked by how it seems to eat stars and anything that might shine.

“I will go into the depths of hell and I will find you.”

“Stay out, you can’t do anything.”

He is right about some of it, I can’t do nearly enough but he forgets who he is talking to.

Once upon a time I was his hero but that is not why I am doing this. It is only significant to me because if I can get him to remember that time and believe I can pull him back out.

Or so I have convinced myself though I really don’t know if it is true. But I don’t know how to do anything other than try and so I push ahead.

Into the depths of hell, hoping I figure it out as I go.

It Was Like The First Facebook

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A thousand years ago when I spent the summer of ’85 wandering through Israel there was a pizza place in Jerusalem that all the anglos would hit.

A place you would go because of the bulletin board that contained countless notes and messages from friends and relatives.

It was our first social network, an early Facebook that I first blogged about in 2007.  Every month the post Who Remembers Ritchie’s Pizza gets a little traffic because of the good times and memories tied into it.

Times

My kids really don’t appreciate how different things were and how much harder it could be to physically connect with people if you were meeting somewhere.

You couldn’t just show up at the mall and say you’ll call each other when you get there. You had to make a plan or risk never connecting.

There is a certain convenience in carrying supercomputers in our pockets that we can use to connect with others.

But sometimes I miss what was because you used the phone for conversation. You made a point to really talk or at least in theory intended to.

Now you see groups of teens sitting near each other but often their heads are bent over a tiny screen and you wonder what would happen if they had no phones and had to actually talk.

Victory Comes

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Today a teenager succeeded at something they were very uncertain about and his father got to look at him and say “I told you so.”

Not in a nagging or negative sort of way, but supportive, reassuring and warm.

Hopefully it was heard, understood and absorbed as such.

Time will tell.

We all have our paths.

Victory comes in different ways and we have to be open and aware or sometimes we don’t notice.

Motivation For Making Your Bed

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I showed my children the video below and told them it would provide them with motivation for making their beds.

My 17-year-old looked at me and asked if this was one of those things I expected him to get/understand/appreciate when he was older.

“What do you think?”

“I think you are trying to manipulate me.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time and it might not be the last. How do you think I got you to start taking baths when you were really little.”

He smiled and told me I should remember that he might have learned how to be sneakier.

“Maybe one day…”

He smiled again and walked away. A short time later I stood in a quiet house and wondered how much longer I get to live with these kids and how much longer I get to teach them.

It goes so very fast.

A Different World Series Experience

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It is the bottom of the 6th inning of the Dodgers-Astros World Series and the family is gathered around the television.

That is an experience that mirrors the one I grew up with as a Dodgers fan in the ’70s and ’80s which is to say how we watched the Dodgers in the series.

But that is where many of the similarities end because by the time I was the same age as my oldest child is I had seen the boys win one series championship and play in four.

And by the time I was 19 it had turned to 2 series championships out of five visits so I never expected to have to wait 29 years before I got a chance to see them in the series again.

A Different World Series Experience

If my grandfathers were here we’d swap stories, memories and thoughts about this series.

We’d laugh about how the Cubs finally won another title and I know they’d talk about how they can’t believe how old they are because they would both be over a 100.

I am sure they would point out how strange it is to see us watch while occasionally checking our phones, updating statuses or responding to texts from friends/family about the game.

And I am certain they’d include a comment about their favorite grandson live blogging the moment.

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Since they aren’t here all I can do is make educated guesses about their comments and say it is as hard and as fun to watch my boys in blue play.

The series is tied but they easily could have been up 2-0.

The reasons why they aren’t are as cut-and-dried as saying they were outplayed but include the screwy and questionable plays that make sports amazing.

You know the kind that make fans of the winning team declare those destiny and the fans of the losers call cheating.

Memories

As the game progresses I make a point to look at the faces of my children and to enjoy their expressions.

Teens are jaded and some of the looks that cross their faces are harder to come by than they once were.

Sometimes I catch them looking at me and they laugh because they say I am way too serious and there may be some truth in that.

Twenty-nine years is a long time to wait and I didn’t realize how much I missed this until it started.

It turned the pilot light that never stopped burning into something big and bright.

So as we head into the top of the 8th I have to stop writing and focus solely upon my boys.

The baseball lords of superstition must be followed and I must go through the remaining rituals just in case they will help.

Blogging & The New World

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Blogging has been a part of my life for 13 years now and so it has become the instrument I use to record thoughts and feelings about the new world(s) I enter.

Living in Texas for round two, except this time I have moved into a house and find myself preparing for the arrival of the children who have never lived here with me.

Visited yes, but lived, no.

A giant sacrifice on all our parts and one I desperately pray will work out half as well as I hope because it just has to.

Unpacking It All

Alone for now, I unpack boxes and organize preparing for a new life with a bit of trepidation and a lot of hope.

Thre is an inordinate amount of pressure upon me and all I can do is say I am a big boy and take it.

All I can do is my best and hope it is enough to make the sacrifice meaningful and worth it.

My gut says the answer will be yes, but you never do know about these things until you cross through to the other side.

So here is to taking steps into the fog of the great mystery and to having the courage to see it through.

Here is to finding out whether the joke is on me and if so, learning to laugh with and at myself.

Life is an adventure for those who are daring and willing to live it.

I am and I will.