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

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.

Ask The Old Man About Age

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I spent five out of the last seven days slinging iron in the gym and was reminded rather aggressively about how much time I have spent outside of it.

The audible cracks and creaks combine with sore muscles to make it clear that I can’t just pick up where I left off, no matter how badly I might want to.

Can’t just walk into and do what I did or expect my body to respond as if no time has passed and so I find myself having to make a significant effort to be patient.

It is the smart and mature move–I hate it.

And the silly thing is if my kids or friends asked for advice I would tell them to take their time.

Be smart, be safe and work your way back.

Guess I am not particularly good at taking my own advice.

Ask The Old Man About Age

I haven’t seen my family since January 1 and am starting to get excited because we’re only a few weeks away before the next visit.

And we’re all of two months or so before the move and we live together again.

That is a good thing, an important thing and something I am looking forward to.

It is not easy to parent from a distance and I haven’t been pleased that I have had to do it, but it is part of making a better life for us all and I think ultimately it will work.

There have been some very hard moments and challenges and it hasn’t been as smooth or easy as I had hoped.

There is some guilt and anxiety about the changes.

A certain amount of nervousness about whether it is going to be good and some fear that it could go south.

I don’t really think it will, but it might and that would to use a technical term…suck.

But I figure old Al is correct and that the only way to figure it all out is to keep going, got to put one foot in front of the other.

Can’t tell, know or see without trying it out so we’ll push on and see where it leads.

And that leads us back to the gym where the old man is doing his damnedest to stop the clock, if not turn it back.

Most of the time it feels like that is working, but there are moments where I wonder.

Moments where it becomes clear that I am not 25 any more and that I better act like it because this old body starts to bark at me if I don’t behave.

Got to trick it into forgetting how many miles I have put on and think it is younger or at least in better condition.

We’re getting there…slowly.

Not Quite Final Notes

The kids are a mix of excited and nervous about the coming move. They ask questions and tell me they look forward to seeing me.

Sometimes they ask if there is any way to avoid moving and wonder if maybe I could move back instead of them moving here.

I get it.

I understand.

I feel badly, but sometimes the best thing you can do is take a chance and leave your comfort zone.

I am keeping my fingers crossed, it might be bumpy, but it could be great.

Hope they see it as an adventure and a chance to explore uncharted territory.

Just have to wait and see.

The Homeless Writer

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Five weeks, 12 hours and five minutes from now my lease expires and I don’t where I am going to live.

Those numbers might not be entirely accurate because I didn’t confirm their validity but they are close enough.

That is ‘cuz I know the lease ends the day before the 19 and after the 17th, but don’t worry about whether old Jack Steiner will have a place to hang his hat because if need be he’ll knock on that wacky Shmata Queen’s door and tell her to make room.

But chances of that happening are pretty slim because I have been quite active in searching for a new joint to call home.

The Homeless Writer

The good news is I have lots of options for where to live and that I am actively looking into new places to call The Ponderosa.

Put in some applications in a few different spots and am waiting to hear back, kind of excited and nervous.

Got one in particular that I think could be very cool, but it is a bit of a stretch financially. Not a horrible one, but initially it might be a little challenging.

So I signed up today to be Lyft driver.

Did so based upon the recommendation of a friend who said he averaged about $200 a week in spare cash and figured I’d try it out.

That is the kind of easy extra income I can go for and I figure if I hate it there is limited risk.

And if I like it, well it is guaranteed blog fodder and something that I can do as a way to help make some luxuries possible.

Not that I need all that much because I don’t.

But I tell the kids that if you really want something you will figure out how to work for it.

Anyhoo, when you have moved as often as I have you soon learn to care much less about where and what than who is with you.

Who I Am Meets Who I Was

I completed another circuit around the sun last Tuesday which means I am 48 and that much closer to middle age.

Kind of peculiar and surreal to think about how young I feel versus what I see in the mirror.

Strange to stare at pictures of my nephew and his prom date (kid is a junior, but he took a senior) and to reconcile it against reality.

He won’t appreciate my saying I sometimes think of him as being this little kid or understand how my eyes sort of narrowed when I think about prom.

I skipped mine and haven’t a single regret but I do remember how my girlfriend chose to celebrate and wonder if I ought to be the good uncle and check in with him about certain things.

Not because I want or need details but to make sure he is being smart and that he doesn’t get himself into trouble.

I did a very good job of keeping my parents out of my business and know they didn’t have a clue how active I was until I was in college.

Call that a thinly veiled reference for having played with fire a little bit because I was dumb and so were some of my friends.

I do know a couple of guys who have children who are about 30 or so now. Did I mention we graduated high school in ’87.

****

Anyway, I have been thinking a bit about how good Texas has been to me and how fucking hard a lot of this adventure has been.

Been thinking about how hard I have been working to make it easier for my children and to do something that will help them immeasurably.

None of that provides you with specific details about who I was and how it compares to who I am now so you might wonder about the subhead.

It is really a placeholder for me and a time marker that will help me remember this moment and that is important.

The blog is a chronicle of time and events, a place that helps me see where I have been and figure out where I am going.

And those Whitman quotes, well consider them to be significant and substantive words I live by.

I’d write more but I keep getting interrupted and am taking that as a sign it is time to publish, sign off and walk.

If you are a new reader and interested in seeing more good stuff try one of these:

And

The Flying Clown

Donald Trump Hates My Blog More Than He Hates You

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Spammers hit The Brazen Blogger That Made Cleveland Cry and Spit Or Swallow Still Means You Have Time To Blog.

Can’t say it is because they thought older posts were less likely to be monitored or if it is because of some automated software.

Nor can I confirm or deny that I am slowly unraveling because I see it as something that is happening at light speed but has taken decades.

Yeah, it is a contradiction, probably one of the great contradictions of my life.

But that is ok because life is a giant contradiction and I am living it hard.

I Might Be That Guy

I am somewhere between supreme confidence that I am going to exceed expectations and life is about to explode in a way that might not be real comfortable but I can’t tell you where.

What will be is going to be and much of it doesn’t matter because no matter what I do or how I do it the control over the situation is nonexistent.

All I can do is control how I respond and or react.

I still get comments and letters from people who dislike my words and my writing.

That is ok because I am not here to make everyone happy or ask to be loved by all. It is one of the most important lessons I can teach my children.

Be who you are.

I understand why they sometimes don’t like hearing it because it is hard.

Be who you are means taking a a risk and giving people a chance to reject you.

Happens to me all the damn time.

I hear a million reasons why I am not who I could or should be and how that might hurt me in a million different ways.

Thing is I hate not being me more.

That hurts far more than capitulating.

I haven’t always been this willing to just let go and let it all hangout but I haven’t been afraid to be different either.

It has been sort of a seesaw where I swung one way or another. It is not always easy to feel like you’re the oddball or screw up.

Sometimes it is easier to try and go along to get along.

That is something I have shared with my teens more than once because they see me as a guy who is unafraid to make a spectacle of himself and is willing to say/do anything.

I have made sure they understand even though I am unfiltered there are still those moments and that as crazy as I can be I know when to reel it in.

Donald Trump Hates My Blog More Than He Hates You’

I don’t know if that is true because I am not sure if Trump has read my blog.

Can’t tell you if he has stayed up at night wishing Jack Steiner would leave him alone or wondering why I choose to pick on him.

I hope he doesn’t because I haven’t begun to tear apart his stupid policy, ridiculous commentary and unhinged rhetoric.

What I have done is say he has proven that it is ok to make shit up and pretend the false facts you promote are true even when it might make you look bad.

Hell, I can’t figure out if he is that dumb, that ignorant and or that ill informed and confused.

All I know is he is some combination of those things and if he tweeted about this blog I would be besieged by wingnuts, nutjobs, conmen, thugs, ugs, bugs and nazis.

But I might find some interesting folks and cool people too. That might even include people I disagree with politically but who are still able to present a well reasoned argument for why they disagree.

Maybe.

Sucker Punches & Suckers

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Sometimes things happen and you find yourself somewhere between the familiar landscape of heartbreak and hope.

You look out the window of the train and pray it stops on the right side of the tracks but hold your breath because you know you can’t do a damn thing to impact it.

All you can do is hold on and see what happens.

It makes me think of sucker punches and suckers.

 

Of Fury & Rage

Hit some pretty big bumps in the road and found myself involved in an unexpected and unnecessary struggle.

Took a deep breath and told myself to do as I tell the kids to do, “breathe, think, breathe and work it out.”

And then I discovered the cause of the struggle could be traced back to an intentional act by someone else.

That brought out my inner Taurus and the horns were lowered and I had to work hard to not go out on a mission of seek-and-destroy.

In the midst of it all music rescues the moment.

How?

Sophie B. Hawkins singing Damn, I Wish I Was Your Lover.

Suddenly it is 1992 and I am all of 23 and hanging out in a bar in Santa Monica with some of the boys. The song comes on and a group of girls start dancing and singing along.

A couple of them are staring at us and we work extra hard to try and look cool while simultaneously debating whether they’re serious or not.

“That blond wants me.”

“How do you know?”

“Because she is staring hard.”

“You’re an idiot, she is staring at me.”

I listen the guys go back and forth and occasionally add my own comments. I am not convinced they have any interest in us and am not sure I want to be the guy to walk over to the group and get shot down.

“Jack, I’ll bet $20 dollars you can’t get a phone number.”

I smile and tell him I’ll take his money.

I walk over to the group and tell them I need their help.

“My friend bet me $20 I can’t get one of your telephone numbers. He is a cocky pain in my ass. If you give me a number that I can bring back I’ll take his money and give you the $20.”

One of the girls smiles kisses my cheek and then writes down a number and sends me back across the bar.

I take the $20, turn and deliver it.

Mission accomplished.

Some hours later I try the number and get an answering machine upon which I leave a message. The call is never returned.

Sucker Punches & Suckers

I don’t know that I agree with Freud but I have told the kids there is a benefit to struggling.

You learn how to appreciate what you have and the work it to took to gain/acquire and or obtain it.

Most of the time I believe it to be true and feel like I ought to be open to one day looking back upon the beauty of the struggle.

But the thing is I am killing myself right now to make the things work and worrying about a million different things,

I am busting my ass to not get knocked upon it by another sucker punch or punches and wondering if maybe I am the sucker.

Flying The ‘Friendly’ Skies

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People say you shouldn’t write when you are jammed for time because you might make some silly errors but I don’t follow that advice.

Mostly because I think there is a certain beauty that comes from not having time to question your muse and his/her idea for the words you’ll put on paper.

I am jammed now because I have to finish packing so I can catch a flight in a couple of hours.  Got to build in time to toss the clothes in a bag, drive to the airport, park and then walk through security.

It is not high on my list of desires, flying, that is.

I don’t like it very much anymore but I do it often enough I am pretty good with the drill. Still, post 9/11 flying is a task and it is not made any more enjoyable by seeing videos like that one from United.

Flying The ‘Friendly’ Skies

I often remind my children that our attitude has a big impact upon how our days go and am doing my best to just smile and stay loose today.

The more relaxed I am the easier it becomes or so I tell myself.

It works most of the time, but not all.

Have I mentioned how happy I am not to be flying United today. Can’t say I am interested in paying for food, blanket, ticket and a beating.

****

I didn’t get as much sleep last night as I wanted to because I had to make sure I talked to the kids before my flight today.

Since they are two hours behind me and were busy until quite late it meant I didn’t finish speaking with them until after midnight.

Most of the time I don’t think twice about that because I am good at sleeping on planes but this flight is all of an hour so I am not sure if I’ll be able to catch as long a nap as I might like.

But I’ll do my best and maybe some lucky person will get to hear me snore. 😉

I kind of feel badly about it because no one wants to listen to someone snoring and yet I need the rest. Since I am unlikely to see these people again I’ll just let it go I suppose.

That reminds me of a conversation I had with a friend who asked how many social conventions are lifted if we are with strangers.

The answer for me is not many.

You won’t catch me clipping my toenails on a plane or engaging in other personal behavior like that, especially since I have seen it on flights before.

I don’t gross out easily, but that just makes me go yuck.

Reading Material

Been a while since I provided links to other posts here and since I won’t be able to update for a few days I’ll provide a list you can dig into if you so choose.

Here is a short selection of posts to get you started:

An Uncertain Certainty
Words Are The Death Of A Blogger
A Father Describes Parenting
A Father’s Burden
How Sister’s Helped to Train A Father of “Daddy’s Girl”
Inside the Blogger’s Studio- A Dream, Er Nightmare
The GermoPhobe
What I Dream About
I am In Love
Becoming a Dad
Dad’s Most Important Job
A Decade of Dad
Grandpa
Donuts
Why Your Post Sucks and Everyone Hates Your Blog
Of Dads and Daughters

See you in the comments. Back with new material later this week.

P.S. The post before this isn’t bad, try giving it a read.