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

Random Thoughts

Sailing in Uncharted Waters

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Sometimes I feel a bit like Max from Where The Wild Things Are. If you are a purist you may not be as appreciative of the trailer as I am, but for the purposes of this post it is excellent. It does a good job of helping to graphically illustrate some of my thoughts and feelings.

There is a feeling that sometimes comes upon me. It is a sense of being chased. I can’t quite make out who or what it is, but I know that if I turn around and wait for it there is a good chance that it just might be there. I have mixed emotions about it. Sometimes it is a sense of dread and foreboding and I want to take off running.

Not unlike the way you see Max running through the woods, so I can see myself. I can smell the forest and hear the crunch of leaves and twigs beneath my feet. There are moments where I think that if I start running like that I won’t ever tire and I won’t ever stop. The sun will rise and the sun will set and Jack will still be running. Sunlight, moonlight or twilight- it just won’t matter because I’ll keep going.

But then again that feeling of dread and uncertainty makes me angry. It frustrates me and for lack of a better description, I find myself preparing for battle. I don’t seek out confrontation, nor do I hide from it. And the idea of picking the time and place for battle suits me. That graphic imagination pictures me locating a place to take a stand and then doing all that it takes to hold my position for as long as I can.

It is easy to envision. I can hear the birds chirping and the sounds of animals moving through the woods. Suddenly it is silent and the air becomes still. At that moment I brace myself for the roar of the creatures that will come pouring out from the trees. The sound of birds singing will be replaced with the cacophony of swords crashing into each other and the grunting of those who swing them.

See what it is like to live with a graphic imagination.

And then again I can picture myself sailing through uncharted waters. Some days the sea will be calm and I’ll gaze in wonder at a moonlit sky populated by more stars than you imagine. Other times all my skill will be devoted to surviving the raging storm. Waves will come crashing down upon me and it will be all I can do to keep from capsizing or being swept over board.

I suppose that it is fair to say that I do feel a bit like I am sailing through uncharted waters. There are things going on that are unsettling and it is harder to try to maintain balance and perspective. That is not to suggest that the challenges that I face are unique, unusual or particularly different from others.

They are not and I have never tried to paint them as being otherwise. But as I have said many times it is always easier to fix someone another person’s problems. Since they belong to me they are my responsibility and consequently a bit trickier.

So here I sit peering through the fog and haze trying to determine what the best path ahead is. Someone told me that we missed our window of opportunity and I have to ask myself is that really true or is there another path that we have missed. It reminds me a bit of chess and Algebra.

Many years ago I used to play chess several times a week with a friend. Oftentimes he would lose because he would forget that not every chess piece was limited to moving front and back, or side to side. Some of them could move diagonally. In essence it meant that you always had to pay attention the full board because if you allowed yourself to ignore a section you could quickly find yourself in trouble.

The relationship to Algebra comes to mind because of an experience I had in high school. I didn’t always understand how the teacher taught us to solve certain equations. But I was often able to come up with an alternative that provided the correct answer. That didn’t always serve me well because my teacher liked to tell me that there were scenarios in which my solution wouldn’t work but that his always would because it was more universal in nature.

I always suspected that he just didn’t like my figuring out how to do it without him. I’d ask him but he apparently died at a relatively young age of heart disease.

Anyway, the real point here is this. I don’t give up on things easily. I think that there are many different paths that can be taken to meet our objectives and that sometimes it just takes a bit of doing to see how to reach that place. Sometimes you don’t recognize the importance of it until your air has been removed and you find yourself choking. I am not choking, but I am gasping a bit.

So now to quote my son all I need to do is figure out a solution and save the day. I kind of like that term, save the day. And given a little bit of time I think that I just might figure out how to make it happen. Life is like that chess board. I don’t have to attack everything head on, sometimes coming from an angle is really all it takes.

I Squeezed The Trigger (Jack Went Shooting)

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When I sat down to write this post I thought of my blogging friend and Chevrusa, Rabbi Fleischmann. He is an elder of the Jblogosphere whose blog is described as Postings From An Eclectic Soul. I have to concur, but that is a good thing. I appreciate his ruminations and thoughtful remarks.

His style of writing is a bit different from mine, but I like the way he rambles and ambles on. It reminds me a bit of taking a tour of a museum. As you walk your guide provides the background on the art work and little nuggets of information that you won’t find in the guide books.

************

A shooting range is an interesting place. Walk inside and you are truly among the people. It is a mix of classes and ethnicities. People of all shapes and sizes, ages and backgrounds converge inside. Some are in there because they want to shoot their demons and firing endless rounds of ammo is a good source of stress relief. Some are there because they want to feel impowered or powerful and some are there because they are a forty year old man who has never fired a real gun.

It doesn’t really matter what the motivation or reason for being there is. I included it because I liked the way that it sounded. I am not antigun and didn’t grow up in an antigun house. Can’t say that I see the reason for owning assault rifles or fully automatic weapons, but I understand why someone would want to own a gun.

I don’t have one and am not sure if I really want one in my house. I have mixed emotions about it. In part I just don’t want to have to worry about it. Some of you might find that to be silly, but I know what it is to engage in a fist fight. I can tell you what it feels like to feel your fist smash into the side of a head, to break a nose or knock out teeth. I know what it is to be hit and to hurt.

************


I took aim and slowly squeezed the trigger. Again and again I fired, creating a pattern of dots on the target. After a while all of the clips were empty so I stopped to reload. My friend looked at the target and congratulated me on my aim. He explained that I haven’t been shooting long enough to compensate for the recoil and had me switch from a 9mm to a revolver.

I took that .357 in my hands, and thought about Dirty Harry. I had been inside for more than an hour and was really beginning to enjoy it. Initially I had been a bit nervous. What if I did something stupid and hurt someone or me. I didn’t want to be that guy, not the guy who shot himself in the foot.

He put a new target up. Instead of a big sheet of paper with black and white concentric circles it was a sheet of gray. On the paper there was the drawing of a male torso. It was sectioned off with point totals for hitting various parts of the body.

I listened as he explained why it was better to shoot at the torso, how these places offered a bigger target and would most likely disable the attacker. Then I put four shots through the head of the target.

Seriously, no exaggeration. He told me to switch to the body and I made a nice little pattern across the chest. Was it beginners luck? I don’t know. I am not bad at the video games that require shooting skills.

************

In between rounds of shooting and watching I thought about it all and why I was there. When you are angry and in a physical altercation you don’t think about what you are doing to the other guy. You are thankful that it is not you who is getting hurt, at least until it is all done. Because it is only later that you discover all the injuries to yourself.

But I took the guns more seriously. The potential for serious injury or worse is much higher and I thought about it. Regardless of whether I ever own a gun I want to be proficient with their use. There are plenty of reasons why, more than enough to make sense to me.

And from an entirely different perspective, it was a lot of fun. I enjoyed the challenge of hitting the targets. I appreciated the stress release. And I appreciated how while I was shooting the world became very quiet. For a brief moment in time, it was silent and there was a peaceful feeling.

Now that may sound barbaric to some of you. It may sound backwards or strange, but I seek out the things that bring me that sort of focus. I seek out that which allows me to shut out the noise and have that quiet.

That sort of quiet is far too important and far too rare.

Time is Slipping Away from Me

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Part of the impact of turning 40 has been a near obsession with the impact of time on my life. It is not that I expect or am worried that I am going to die any time soon.

The genetic makeup of old Jack is good. Two grandparents who are 95, a grandfather who lived into his nineties and other relatives who made it past the century mark are reassuring. Truth is that I expect to outlive a lot of people, it is my fate. That is not supposed to be arrogant, just a feeling. Hard enough to bury friends now, but to outlive many is a different story.

Anyway, I live with this contradiction. I have this belief that I have a minimum of 50 years left to walk the earth and this fear that I am not getting enough out of life now. There is an enormous list of things that I want to do. It includes the simple task of just building my vocabulary and more complex desires such as my interest in going back to school to get degrees in a variety of fields.

Scratch that, I’d like to become an expert in a bunch of fields. Anthropology, history, science, medicine and more. One of the reasons that I am constantly reading is because I find so many things to be of interest.

But there isn’t time to read and learn the way that I’d like to. You see I have these responsibilities, family, mortgage, retirement and what have you that get in the way. There are these little people that run around the house calling me names like dad, daddy and abba.

Sometimes they call and I look for my dad. I may be 40 but they can’t possibly be talking to me, can they. Actually they can. I can say that they look and act like me, so they must be mine.

So many things to do and so little time to do them. I find it frustrating to do things that I don’t like or don’t find fulfilling. There is this fire burning inside of me and a little voice that whispers. The murmuring sound in my ear makes me a bit crazy, what if something happens. What if I don’t have as much time as I think, am I getting enough out of life.

That is part of the balancing act we undergo each day. The question of how much of our own happiness needs to be subjugated for our children and our responsibilities. We can’t ignore them. We can’t just walk away and do exactly what we want.

But we can’t just ignore them either. There is a finite amount of time to live and I can’t accept not getting more out of it. I can’t accept not trying to suck the marrow out.

If you don’t have any regrets than you haven’t allowed yourself to live and if you don’t take a chance you are making a mistake. It is all about balance and it requires constant readjustment.

Anyhoo, it is getting late so I’ll sign off for now. More to come on this topic.

Don’t Take The Car You’ll Kill Yourself

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A mixed assortment of memories and thoughts:

If you grew up in Southern California and are of a certain age you might remember a commercial in which a wife screams Don’t Take The Car You’ll Kill Yourself! Not sure if it ever aired anywhere else, but I remember it well.

Or should I say that I remember how much of a joke it turned into. The sentiment was sincere and the idea behind it was/is not a joke, but not unlike so many other things it evolved. Kind of reminds me a bit of the commercial for Life Alert.
“I have fallen and I can’t get up” became a huge joke. It was one of those things that we made fun of for a thousand years. If you tripped and fell it was a virtual guarantee that someone was going to say or think it.

My sophomore year of high school had a number of highlights. I remember one class in which we had this bitter old man teaching us, at least that is how I remember him.

Twenty-five years later I see a man in a worn cordoruy jacket sitting behind a desk. Sitting behind his desk, dark oily hair on his head, he’d lecture us about life. Tell us that it was his job to puncture our illusions of grandeur and make us face reality. We weren’t as smart as we thought, or so he’d tell us.

“I am going to get you ready to take the the ASVAB (Armed Services Vocational Aptitude Battery) test so that you can see what you are really good at it. Some of you will end up as janitors and plumbers. Only a few will do really well. Most of you will be lucky to get by. The ASVAB will help you understand what you are good at it so that you don’t waste time.

One of my classmates would sit in the back of the class and sing Institutionalized to himself. He was a year older than me, had a beard and wore boots. At first I was a bit intimidated by him, but as time passed we developed something. Occasionally he’d grunt at me. I heard a while back that he was shot and killed during a gas station robbery, but I don’t know if that is true.

At fifteen the lyrics to Institutionalized were pretty radical, or so I thought. I see them a bit differently now, but not really what I want my kids listening to.

Sometimes I try to do things and it just doesn’t work out the way I wanted to.
I get real frustrated and I try hard to do it and I take my time and it doesn’t work out the way I wanted to.
It’s like I concentrate real hard and it doesn’t work out.
Everything I do and everything I try never turns out.
It’s like I need time to figure these things out.
But there’s always someone there going.

Hey Mike:
You know we’ve been noticing you’ve been having a lot of problems lately.
You know, maybe you should get away and maybe you should talk about it, maybe you’ll feel a lot better

And I go:
No it’s okay, you know I’ll figure it out, just leave me alone I’ll figure it out.
You know I’ll just work by myself.

And they go:
Well you know if you want to talk about it I’ll be here you know and you’ll probably feel a lot better if you talk about it.

And I go:
No I don’t want to I’m okay, I’ll figure it out myself and they just keep bugging me and they just keep bugging me and it builds up inside and it builds up inside.

So you’re gonna be institutionalized
You’ll come out brainwashed with bloodshot eyes
You won’t have any say
They’ll brainwash you until you see their way.

[Chorus:]
I’m not crazy – in an institution
You’re the one who’s crazy – in an institution
You’re driving me crazy – in an institution
They stuck me in an institution
Said it was the only solution
To give me the needed professional help
To protect me from the enemy — myself.

I was in my room and I was just like staring at the wall thinking about everything
But then again I was thinking about nothing
And then my mom came in and I didn’t even know she was there she called my name
And I didn’t even hear it, and then she started screaming: MIKE! MIKE!
And I go:
What, what’s the matter?
And she goes:
What’s the matter with you?
I go:
There’s nothing wrong mom.
And she goes:
Don’t tell me that, you’re on drugs!
And I go:
No mom I’m not on drugs I’m okay, I was just thinking you know, why don’t you get me a Pepsi.
And she goes:
NO you’re on drugs!
I go:
Mom I’m okay, I’m just thinking.
She goes:
No you’re not thinking, you’re on drugs! Normal people don’t act that way!
I go:
Mom just give me a Pepsi, please
All I want is a Pepsi, and she wouldn’t give it to me
All I wanted was a Pepsi, just one Pepsi, and she wouldn’t give it to me.
Just a Pepsi.

They give you a white shirt with long sleeves
Tied around you’re back, you’re treated like thieves
Drug you up because they’re lazy
It’s too much work to help a crazy

[Chorus]

I was sitting in my room and my mom and my dad came in and they pulled up a chair and they sat down, they go:
Mike, we need to talk to you
And I go:
Okay what’s the matter
They go:
Me and your mom have been noticing lately that you’ve been having a lot of problems,
You’ve been going off for no reason and we’re afraid you’re gonna hurt somebody,
We’re afraid you’re gonna hurt yourself.
So we decided that it would be in your interest if we put you somewhere
Where you could get the help that you need.
And I go:
Wait, what are you talking about, we decided!?
My best interest?! How can you know what’s my best interest is?
How can you say what my best interest is? What are you trying to say, I’m crazy?
When I went to your schools, I went to your churches,
I went to your institutional learning facilities?! So how can you say I’m crazy?

They say they’re gonna fix my brain
Alleviate my suffering and my pain
But by the time they fix my head
Mentally I’ll be dead

[Chorus]

It doesn’t matter, I’ll probably get hit by a car anyway

Sometimes it is hard to believe that so much time has passed. I sit here thinking about that time and certain memories are easy to pull up, but some are hard. I don’t have any journals of my thoughts, or at least none that I am aware of, so I am stuck with memory.

I suppose that I should clarify and say that sometimes I wonder what that 15 year old thought the future was going to be like. I think that I remember. I think that I know, but the passage of time makes me wonder.

In theory that won’t be a problem that I am going to have, at least when it comes to the five years of my life that I have spent blogging. All I have to do is sift through the archives and it all comes flooding back to me.

Wonder what I’ll think about all this in twenty years.

Reason, Season, Lifetime- Do You Believe

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REASON, SEASON, LIFETIME!!!

People always come into your life for a reason, a season, or a lifetime.

When you figure out which it is, you know exactly what to do.

When someone is in your life for a REASON,

it is usually to meet a need you have expressed outwardly or inwardly.

They have come to assist you through a difficulty,

or to provide you with guidance and support,

to aid you physically, emotionally, or even spiritually.

They may seem like a godsend to you, and they are.

They are there for the reason you need them to be.

Then, without any wrong doing on your part or at an inconvenient time,

this person will say or do something to bring the relationship to an end.

Sometimes they die. Sometimes they just walk away.

Sometimes they act up or out and force you to take a stand.

What we must realize is that our need has been met, our desire fulfilled; their work is done.

The prayer you sent up has been answered and it is now time to move on.

When people come into your life for a SEASON,

it is because your turn has come to share, grow, or learn.

They may bring you an experience of peace or make you laugh.

They may teach you something you have never done.

They usually give you an unbelievable amount of joy.

Believe it! It is real! But, only for a season.

And like Spring turns to Summer and Summer to Fall,

the season eventually ends.

LIFETIME relationships teach you lifetime lessons;

those things you must build upon in order to have a solid emotional foundation.

Your job is to accept the lesson, love the person anyway;

and put what you have learned to use in all other relationships and areas in your life.

It is said that love is blind but friendship is clairvoyant.

Thank you for being part of my life.

Everyone hears what you say.

Friends listen to what you say.

Best friends listen to what you don’t say.

I go back and forth about these sorts of statements. People want to believe that there is a purpose in everything, some sort of hidden meaning that they can sniff out.

I am no different. During hard times it is comforting to say that everything happens for a reason. When you are heartbroken you want to say that person xyz came into your life so that you would learn some profound lesson.

It is not easy for me to buy into all of that. I want to. I love the sentiment and I want to believe, but sometimes I don’t. Sometimes I latch on and have complete faith and other times I shrug my shoulders and just roll my eyes.

On the other hand there are people that I share too many coincidences with. They have come into my life and turned it upside down. So in the end I find myself waffling on whether I believe or disbelieve. I am not a fan of sitting on the fence, but in this case…

What do you think?