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

People

Remember When Quinquagenarians Were Cool

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He is in his late twenties and he wants to know how it feels to be out of touch with all that is cool.

I tell him it is never something I really worry much about.

He takes it as an invitation to take another poke at me, tries to stick me with another comment about being too old to recognize how dated I sound.

I ask him if he wants to pull down his pants and prove he is the bigger man than I am.

Kid doesn’t recognize the sarcasm and tells me he doesn’t want to embarrass me. I laugh and ask him what he is afraid of.

“You just spent time telling me how I am too old to be cool and suggested that I am so far beyond my prime I ought to be in a facility and now you back down. How telling.”

Before he can respond I tell him I am not a quinquagenarian and suggest that instead of Googling it he go visit a real library.

Don’t Poke The Bear

It is not a conversation I ever wanted to have but we work together and I am temporarily stuck with him.

We’re together for training purposes but he doesn’t seem to recognize it is not a level playing field and I am not particularly interested in pointing that out.

I am not his father so I am not going to tell him not to poke the bear. I am not going to mention that I am supposed to file a report about our time.

What I am supposed to be doing is evaluating his ability to represent the company and to determine what areas he needs to improve upon.

He was told all this before we left by his supervisor and I am not interested in babysitting.

I prefer to see what he is like when he is loose and I figure that this must be it. So for a long while I just wait and see.

I listen to his remarks and I don’t engage until after I have told him it is not of particular interest to me.

But he insists on poking the bear.

Remember When Quinquagenarians Were Cool

The dictionary says a quinquagenarian is a person who is 50 or in their fifties so technically I am not part of that group.

But I have twenty years on him and that is enough for there to be a generation gap.

What he doesn’t recognize is I am not bothered by whether I am considered to be cool, young or old.

I don’t know if I was ever considered to be the cool kid by anyone. It never mattered enough to me to try very hard to be him either.

Won’t say I had no interest because let’s face it, there are certain perks that come with it but I never did see an easy way to try and become that guy.

And though I have never been afraid of hard work I never felt like I should work hard to make people like me.

You either did/do or didn’t/do not.

As for those perks I mentioned, well I never had trouble finding women to date or convincing girls to become my girlfriend.

So even though it might have been nice to have had more women chasing me it wasn’t like I lacked for companionship.

Did I mention that sometimes I wonder who was chasing whom in some of those relationships?

Sometimes I look back and wonder if one or two of them didn’t manipulate me into doing exactly what they wanted me to.

****

Anyway, it is strange sometimes to think about how much has changed since I was in high school and college.

People may technically be the same  but there are moments where I think about things like encyclopedias, the Dewey Decimal system, albums, record stores and drive-ins are things that kids don’t know about.

They can’t relate to the frustration and experiences of not having change for payphones, busy signals, emergency breakthroughs or collect calls.

Computers make erasable ink pens and White-Out sound quaint.

Hell, how many times would I have given my right arm for a computer because I was told a final report had to be submitted error free and without any modifications made to the typing.

musicsoul

I never owned a T-Bird like the one in the photo but I always wanted one.

My dad got a Thunderbird when I was in college.

I have some great memories in that car. When he and my mom went away to celebrate their 25th wedding anniversary I took that car and drove it all over.

It is one of the cars I pictured being part of Sometimes Trouble Finds You.

But at the moment I am thinking about a convertible Cadillac and days at the beach. Might be because I am listening to Don Henley sing The Boys of Summer or because of the music I hear inside my heart.

I have to believe that if the universe can hear anything it hears the song inside my head and feels the one inside my soul.

That Pied Piper called out to me long ago and I have spent eons looking for the path from the earth to his sky castle.

I am pretty certain I am walking on it now.

Young People Can’t See It

Age is definitely a relative thing and I know that there are many who consider me young just as I consider the colleague at work to be.

But I am old enough to have loved and lived and to know what it is I am in search of. Doesn’t matter if I can describe it in terms that you can see or feel because it is an individual thing.

Won’t be long before I move again and though I don’t know whether I’ll move into a house, apartment or townhouse I know it will all work out.

Kind of funny to think about how much I don’t know here and how not so long ago not knowing the specifics would have made me crazy.

But today I look at the uncertainty, close my eyes and listen for the music the piper is playing.

I almost told the kid from work that he hasn’t touched the surface of life yet and that if he thinks he has he is mistaken.

Didn’t because I didn’t want to sound like a pompous windbag and because he wouldn’t believe me anymore than I would have believed an old man when I was his age.

****

Life is about to get really interesting. Someone tell Gandalf I am ready to go to Rivendell with him.

The 10 Minute Blog Post

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I don’t write solely because I want to, but because I have to. It is an  involuntary exercise like breathing to me except

It is an  involuntary exercise like breathing to me and though I won’t physically die if I don’t do it I will see my heart and soul shrink a size or two.

For a long time I forgot about the importance of writing but twelve years ago I started blogging and in some ways I was reborn.

If that sounds like hyperbole to you I am guessing you are not a writer and that’s ok. Or maybe you are a writer and it still sounds like hyperbole, that is ok too,

The world would be dull if we were all the same.

A Blogging Experiment

I decided I wanted to link to some old posts but that this time around I would experiment a little bit with how I do it.

We’re going to create a list with pictures and links and see what happens.

The Birthday Party Dilemma

The Shackled Writer

The Cure For A Bad Day

The Great Dad Blogger War Of ’06

The People In Your Life

It Happened One Yom Kippur

Time Is Almost Up

My ten minutes is almost up so I have to decide if I should talk about the value of comments, whether Twitter is still a valuable platform or children and social media.

Chances are I will focus on the children and social media angle in a post later today. Got a situation here that is unfolding that reminds me about how happy I am that this sort of cyber world didn’t exist when I was a kid.

It is not easy helping my children navigate it either and sometimes I find it disheartening to see how cruelty can be extended throughout the night and day.

But there have been positives that are tied into it all too, but we’ll save that talk for later.

For now I will leave you with this thought which applies to writing as well as to photography.

aboutphotos

Giving It The Old College Try

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Steiner the minor called me this afternoon to share big news with me.

“Dad, I got in. I am going to start taking classes next semester.”

It is too bad he couldn’t have seen me smile because the grin on my face would have made that old Cheshire cat feel like a fake and a phony.

“I am so very proud of you, all the hard work is worth it. Good things happen when you put your mind to it, this is just one of many big accomplishments in your life.”

“Thank you, I wanted to tell you in person but I didn’t know when you would be coming back.”

I told him it was ok, and he took a moment confirm he was on Bluetooth. When I said I was he asked me how many miles I had put in and I said it would be around 400 or so today.

“You should be proud of yourself, I can guarantee your family is.”

“I am proud of myself.”

And with those five words I was transported back in time, the high schooler shrank four feet and 13 years.

Giving It The Old College Try

I remember encouraging the baby who figured out how to stand to keep going. I remember how he would cruise around the house and how one day he was so engrossed in walking and learning about the world he forgot he wasn’t holding onto anything.

“Go little Jack! You can do it, walk to me.”

We held out our arms and though he didn’t make it the whole way standing it didn’t take long for him to figure it out.

Hell, once he stopped crawling and went vertical it took no time to move from a couple of steps at a time to a sprint from one place to another.

“Be proud of yourself! You worked hard for it.”

The baby toddler and boy heard that more than a few times because there was reason for him and for us to be proud.

And as he grew bigger and older he also heard us tell him that you didn’t get to be proud for nothing, you had to work for it and you had to earn it.

It wasn’t until he was having a hard time in middle school that there was a reason for me to let him in on the secret that your parents are always proud of you, some times more than others.

Somewhere during those years I think he heard me describe putting an effort into doing something as “Giving it the old college try” but I never realized just how soon that would refer to him going to college.

High School & The College Experience

I don’t know how long it took for the smile to disappear from my face. Can’t say whether it was a minute or an hour after his call.

What I do know is I replayed his words about having gotten into the program over in my head and thought about what it meant.

He is halfway through his freshman year of high school but in a very short time his freshman workload will include a couple of college classes.

When he started at the school I knew this program existed and that some of the students graduate high school with enough college credits to enter as sophomores and juniors but I don’t know that I really imagined he might be one of them.

And then I started thinking hard about what I want him to get out of high school and college. I started thinking about the experiences that he might have and the opportunities that could come from both and tried to figure out if this program helps or hinders it.

It’s A Good Thing

The bottom line is getting into the program is a good thing, at least as I understand it.

Ask me why I am concerned about an honors student being recognized for their hard work and being given additional opportunities to excel and I’ll tell you that I want there to be some kind of balance here.

What that means is I don’t want him to be so overloaded with work he doesn’t have time to be a kid and do other things.

The Cross Country team has been a great experience for him. He loves it and as long as he does I want him to continue.

Not just because I think there are valuable lessons that come with being part of a team but because running is a sport you can do your whole life.

You don’t need a ball or other people to do it.

It is a way to exercise and stay in shape. It is a way to disconnect from the electronic bubble that so many of us live in and to get outside and feel the sun on your/our backs.

I want him to have time to hang out with friends and do the kind of stuff you, I, we did in high school. It shouldn’t be all work and no fun.

But if I understand the way this program works it doesn’t have to be crazy/busy burden time. It can be something that helps foster his love of learning and challenges him.

And if for some reason it doesn’t work, well we can always dial things back.

knowingI am so very proud and so excited for him.

The news today reminded me again how fast the clock moves and how brief a moment our children live with us.

Sometimes it feels like forever and then sometimes things happen that remind you how quickly time is compressed into then and now.

The toddler is long gone and so is the little boy. Now the teen stands before us.

There is still time before he heads off into the world on his own, long enough to be noticeable but short enough to be recognized.

I’ll take whatever time we have and give it the old college try to be present and enjoy it, but damn, that sun in the sky above moves far too quickly.

The People We Meet Online

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people
I don’t know when Leon Noone stopped commenting on my blog but I know that I noticed it.

For a while he was a regular fixture here and someone who I looked forward to seeing.

Maybe it was because he seemed like this warm, affable fellow who was filled with all sorts of interesting quotes or because I thought he was a sharp man I could learn from.

Most of our exchanges were in the comment section here or elsewhere around the blogosphere but every now and then there would be an email and  a promise to look each other up should I be in Australia or he in the states.

It never happened, we never did grab a pint together or get a chance to connect in person and I am sorry for that.

Every time I look at the quote in the photo above I smile and I think of where it came from.

It was part of a comment he left on Mean Girls Come From Mean Moms. It was preceded by “Take care Jack. That 5 year old horror will grow up to be somebody’s teenage daughter.”

I almost led with that part, but I didn’t want people to think Leon was a mean man so I saved it.

Truth is I don’t really know if he was. A person can be anyone and anything online, but I really just don’t believe Leon was a bad guy.

And now I found out I won’t ever get to make that decision from personal experience.

Readers Come & Go

During my time as a blogger I have had a series of regulars that read and comment here but there are very few that have been around since the start.

I don’t know about any other bloggers but I would guess the old timers have similar experiences to mine.

People come and go and you don’t always know why.

There have been a few times where I had it out with someone and they stopped because they didn’t like my politics or were offended.

My best guess is others may have been bored or found other places that they got more out of and moved on. That is ok, when you are busy you have to make choices about how and where to spend your time.

I noticed when Leon stopped coming around because his comments were usually well thought out and often witty but I didn’t write to ask why he wasn’t here because I figured it was his business.

The People We Meet Online

It took a long time before I met any of my online friends in person.

There wasn’t any particular reason for it other than for a long while I saw my blog as nothing but an online journal. It wasn’t until I tried to monetize it and started thinking about using it to get work that I really thought about connections with people.

I feel sort of foolish writing that because it sounds not just obvious but silly.  What can I say, sometimes I am slow on the uptake but the good news is once I catch on I am pretty damn fast.

Anyhow that is not the point.

I would have liked to have met Leon and now I won’t.  But I think he would appreciate the sentiment.

And since Leon and I liked to exchange Mark Twain quotes I’ll close this post with some in his honor

“Keep away from people who try to belittle your ambitions. Small people always do that, but the really great make you feel that you, too, can become great.”

“Never argue with stupid people, they will drag you down to their level and then beat you with experience.”

“Go to heaven for the climate and hell for the company.”

“I have never let my schooling interfere with my education.”

― Mark Twain

Here is to you Leon, may your friends and loved ones be comforted and forever retain warm memories of you.

Do You Know How To Ask For Help?

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A wise person knows when to go it alone and when to ask for help.
A wise person knows when to go it alone and when to ask for help.

Twenty some years ago I spent around ninety minutes or so of my day lifting weights and or playing basketball.

I was single and for reasons I can no longer remember decided I wanted 16 inch arms and the ability to bench press more than 300 pounds.

So each day I would hit the gym and run through my routine and push myself to hit these arbitrary goals I had set for myself.

Since I wasn’t gifted with grace but was supplied with lots of natural strength it didn’t take real long to reach a place where I started slinging some serious weight around.

Don’t ask me why, but I remember being particularly proud of being able to curl more than 130 pounds.

One day I was feeling particularly good so I banged out some extra sets and decided to hit the bench without any spotters.

I had heard that NFL players who could pump out several sets of 225 were considered to be serious athletes so I set myself up and started pumping out the reps and then surprised myself by almost dropping the bar on my chest.

Young And Dumb

Since I was afflicted with the dread disease known as young and dumb I didn’t have a spotter and tried to push myself beyond where I normally went.

Exhaustion hit sooner than anticipated which is part of why that bar almost came crashing down upon me.

A smarter man would have asked for help but pride didn’t let me so I lay there on the bench struggling to lift the bar up one more time.

Fortunately one of the men there saw me and ran over to give me a hand so I was able to put the bar back up on the bench and didn’t get hurt.

I was lucky that nothing bad happened.

That sort of thing wouldn’t happen to me in the gym today because I have learned to be far more aware of my limits and to set my pride aside…in the gym.

Do You Know How To Ask For Help?

If you read About Writers & Managing Expectations you know I have a series of stories floating around my head and that I want to move said stories from head to paper.

And if you read Of Fear and Failure you know I am in that in between space people sometimes occupy in life and that I am trying to use this time as a teaching moment for my children.

It is that spot where you know you are growing and changing and that you want to move your life from where it is into a new space that will suit you better.

But sometimes the hard part about those times is that you can’t always see the next rung so you reach blindly into the dark for where you think it is and hope that your fingers wrap around something solid because you’d rather not fall.

It is an exciting moment and one that reminds me a bit of the twenty something monster who could lift all that weight.

That guy didn’t ask for help because he liked figuring it out on his own and figured if he fell he’d just bounce back up.

This morning when I rolled out of bed and tried to shake off the last of the jet lag I realized that as much as I grown and changed in many ways I am still that kid.

Even though the body isn’t the same as it was the mind keeps telling me how much smarter I am than the kid and how much more clever.

Except the thing is, I am still not asking for help so I wonder if I have really learned anything at all.

It Is Like A Sculpture Or Painting

So I stood in the shower and thought about what I am trying to accomplish and decided that I am indeed smarter because I do know how to ask for help.

But sometimes the reason people don’t or at least the reason I haven’t is because I haven’t figured out what kind of help I really need.

I could give you basics. I could tell you that a million dollars would go a long way and it would.

It would solve a number of ‘problems’ and provide some additional ability to work on things that I don’t currently have.

But it wouldn’t necessarily touch the core issues.

It is a bit like a blank canvas or piece of rock that needs to be sculpted.

There is an image in my head that isn’t defined as well as it could be so asking for help is more challenging.

This isn’t a ‘Jack Steiner’ problem/challenge either.

This is a people problem/challenge.

It is a taking the time to determine and identify what you want so that you can figure out what you need to do to get it moment.

Or so I would argue because I would rather be the wise man who knows himself to be a fool than the fool who thinks he wise.

How To Get A Rave Review From Bill Peebles

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New Nepean Bridge
I was there and I saw what happened the night the Argento River reversed course and started flowing backwards. It was the same night we christened the Sam Houston Express.

If you ask the locals to tell you about that night and the things that followed you’ll hear all sorts of different stories but most of them won’t be true. They won’t tell you they are lying because you can’t lie when you think you are telling the truth.

But some of us know better because for one reason or another we weren’t affected by that thing, well at least not our memories. Whatever made the Argento River flow backwards didn’t do any sort of harm to our heads, at least none that I can tell.

Heck, it didn’t do much of anything at all to us other than turn us into people who never get sick, don’t age and seem to have lifespans that are ridiculously long.

Look hard at the picture above and you’ll find me and Bill Peebles looking back at you. Chances are you’ll look at the date, 1893 and then make a comment about how Bill and I look an awful lot like our great grandfathers.

It might be factually true to say Bill and I look like our forefathers but the reality is the reason those men look so much like us is because that is us.

I know, it sounds ridiculous.

People might live to be more than a 100 years old but they don’t do so without some significant changes in their physical appearance.

Well I can’t explain exactly how or why things turned out this way but when you have lived as long as we have you learn life is filled with much more of the “I can’t tell you why it happened but it did” than you realize.

Who Is Bill Peebles?

I suppose before I answer the question I should clarify that everything that came before the first subhead is part of ten minutes worth of fiction that I just threw together.

Bill Peebles is a real man but I don’t know him in person.

We met through a dad bloggers group on Facebook. Truth is I can’t tell you much about him. Sure, I can pull bits and pieces from his blog and things he has shared in the group but I think it is up to him to share more with you if he chooses to.

What I can tell you is that he is married, the father of two boys and he plays guitar. I can also tell you he is diligent in reading the posts the fellas share in the group and tat he often leaves a comment about those he has read.

My impression is that he does it because that is who he is. He is a nice guy who likes to let the authors know what he thought about their posts.

He has been doing it long enough that it has turned into a thing in the group. A Bill Peebles comment is worth something, it is meaningful.

I hope he understands the headline for this post is supposed to be playful and not mean or malicious.

Teasing and Friends

It is a timely topic for me, teasing and friends because the stories I am hearing from my son about middle school include a lot of tales of teasing.

The guys he hangs out with are doing a lot of the same crap we used to do when I was their age. Some of it is just silly and fun and some of it isn’t.

Or maybe it is more accurate to say it is not always taken as being silly and fun.

Every now and then I’ll hear a story from my son about how one of the guys did something that upset him. Thus far those are the exception and thus far he has handled everything quite well.

But I am wondering if any of this is going to transition into something less fun and more ugly. I hope it doesn’t but I remember that age and how crazy kids can get.

When I listen to these stories I think back and I remember how a few moments changed for me and well, I hope they don’t for my son.

But he has to figure these things out for himself so unless he tells me about something that sounds dangerous I’ll keep my mouth shut and let him figure out what temperature is comfortable and what isn’t.

Parenting isn’t for the weak.