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

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Fear And Pride

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{Take A Chance}

There are three things that I wish I had real talent/ability:

Singing, Dancing and Painting.

Alas, I am not particularly good at any of them.

When I shed my fear and remove my pride I find my way with ease through each one of these mazes. I sing loud, dance with reckless abandon and don’t feel obligated to describe my painting as being modern.

Sometimes Fear And Pride Influence Me

Sometimes fear and pride have more influence over me than I wish to admit. Sometimes they stop me from doing what it is that I really want to do. There are moments where they have had their way and I have missed opportunities because of them.

I am not prescient which I suppose is part of why there have been those moments where I didn’t walk into the cornstalks to see where the other ballplayers went. Sometimes I could justify it by basing my decision upon experience and the gut feeling that the time just wasn’t right to go for it.

Sometimes that payed off and I could rest comfortably knowing I did the right thing, but not always.

Wanderlust is a part of my heart and that restless need to find out what lies just around the bend or behind the door doesn’t always accept playing it safe.

What Price Do We Pay?

There is a price to be paid for all that we do and fear and pride are no different. But I remind myself that this is not necessarily a good or bad thing. It is just part of life. Every time we make a choice it comes with a little something but we don’t always know whether that is good or bad until we do it.

So I have tried to adjust how I live my life so that I don’t walk around like some sort of crazy bookkeeper tabulating the cost of every little thing I do. I don’t spend every moment trying to calculate how many calories are in the extra slice of pizza or worrying that playing it safe/not playing it safe will hurt me.

When I think about watching my children learn how to walk I remember how every time they fell they got back up and did it again. Every time they wobbled they kept pushing until they didn’t rock back and forth on their feet.

Once upon a time I was no different.

I was them and most of the time I like to think I still am.

Painting/Singing/Dancing

The reason I wish I could do all three of these things more skillfully than I do now is very simple. I like creating. I like expressing. I like letting loose and finding ways to translate the images I see in my mind.

All three of these things would help with that. They are all made for it. They are made for expression of any and all feelings.

There is joy to be found there and I always look for more ways to experience and share joy.

All I have to do now is keep working at preventing fear and pride from spoiling that, most of the time I think I am pretty about it.

How about you?

How Much Influence Does Money Have On Your Life?

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Ice cased Adelie penguins after a blizzard at Cape Denison / photograph by Frank Hurley

This blog isn’t just a place for venting, story telling or discussions about business. It isn’t just an echo chamber to be used as a joint where we can rehash the same old stuff everyone else talks about.

It is here to serve as a chronicle of thoughts and ideas about life and as a historical document which can be used to see what life was like once upon a time.

When I pose questions about how much influence does money have on your life it is tied into other posts:

Some readers find it helpful to read those links because it helps tie everything together and some don’t because they can’t follow the thoughts and logic that lead from one thought to the next.

I am ok with that because this place isn’t for everyone and wasn’t designed to be.

How Much Influence Does Money Have On Your Life?

It is more rhetorical than literal.  Really it is me asking if you are the kind of person who is willing to fight to live your dreams or content to dream your life.

That’s not directed just at you either, the finger I am pointing faces me too.

Long time readers know some of this and are familiar with many of my stories. You know I have buried more than a couple of friends and am more familiar with how short life can be than I want to be.

You have read the posts in which I said I wasn’t satisfied with how my life was going and that I wanted to change things because it wasn’t working.

I made changes.

Life is different.

Life is better.

Money Is An Excuse and Good Life Experience

I used to think about all the things I would do and places I would go if I was rich. It was fun to dream.

Hard work and luck made things happen for me and there came a day where I had enough money to take those trips and buy those things but what I found was that I didn’t do a lot of what I had always thought I would do.

Some of it was because I was too busy working to go on long trips to far away places. It was easier to go on lots of little trips & say the big trips would come later when the kids weren’t babies.

I didn’t buy everything I thought I would  because I was trying to be responsible and  because I realized I didn’t care about some of those things.

I Lost It All

Things happened. Life happened. The money disappeared. The opportunities dried up.

Five years later I am back but things are different because I learned the difference between want and need and because I don’t use money as an excuse for doing or not doing what I need and want to live.

What about You?

Even Better Than A 3 Hour Tour

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“A long, long time ago
I can still remember how that music used to make me smile
And I knew if I had my chance
That I could make those people dance
And maybe they’d be happy for a while

But February made me shiver
With every paper I’d deliver
Bad news on the doorstep
I couldn’t take one more step

I can’t remember if I cried
When I read about his widowed bride
But something touched me deep inside
The day the music died”
American Pie– Don McLean

You Put The Bullet In Your Dreams sounds like it might be a sad story but it really isn’t. Rather it is a collection of moments that led to the place where I am now and that is something, warm, happy and magnificent.

We often write about how life is a journey and why we should do our best to be present on the moments and not solely focused upon the destination. Sometimes I read those posts and wonder how much manure the writer swallowed before they regurgitated the very words I am reading on screen and other times I can’t pull my eyes away because they have filled the page with truth.

It is the truth that I want to share with whomever reads my words because of the connection I feel and the way it resonates with me.

“Let your mind go and your body will follow.”
LA Story

Two or three days after I wrote the “dream’ post I interviewed for the position that led me to leave home and though the position wasn’t offered to me during that interview I had a strong feeling it would be.

Somewhere during those days there was a moment of clarity when I realized that had it not been for those experiences I shared I never would have found this opportunity and if by some chance I had, well I would have passed upon it.

I wouldn’t have recognized why this one moment in time could be so very important and life changing. I wouldn’t have seen the opportunity to take a chance to do the thing that I love to do in for pay in a place where it could work like no other.

It took a bit of time for it to sink in and for me not to let fear of change and concern about what makes the most sense to derail things.

Risk is Important and Necessary

Risk is important and necessary. If you never stretch you never find out what you are capable of and you never get the chance to truly grab the brass ring.  You just ride your pony in never ending circles.

Fear masked as “logic” almost made me say no. I came up with a dozen reasons why it couldn’t work and why I shouldn’t try. That was fear of failure speaking. That was the small whisper in the back of my mind saying “maybe you aren’t as good as you think you are.”

I fought that feeling and made a mental list of accomplishments and reasons that proved I could do it and wondered what would happen if I am better than I think I am. I asked if I could say that with humility and the answer came back yes.

Take A Chance On Me

It sounds cheesy but in the midst of all this thinking I heard Abba sing “Take a Chance on Me” and I thought about how often we are good to others but less forgiving of ourselves. It wasn’t exactly in line with the meaning of the song but I took it as a sign to trust myself and really go after this moment.

And now it is the night before my first day and I am feeling a mix of confidence and nerves. I won’t be able to find my groove until I start the daily component and find out what life is going to be like so I am anxious to begin.

It feels a lot like the last night of summer break before the semester begins at the new school and I don’t know any of my classmates. Unlike my school days I made a point to pick out my suit and tie tonight and have them ready and waiting.

I am going to do my best to show them what I have got and hope it is a lot more like the professor than Gilligan. Time to see if I can make those people dance.

Linking up again with Yeah Write.

A Four Decade Love Affair

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If life were based upon technicalities I could adjust the headline to say a five decade love affair because technically I have been a part of five. Technically I watched the moon landing from whatever baby seat my folks strapped me into, but I can’t say that I remember it.

What I can say is I love Los Angeles and that I always have.

The City of Angels is where I was born and raised and when the choice of where to live was given to me I didn’t have to think twice about it–I stayed.

I stayed for a million good reasons and a million more that had nothing to do with logic or reason. I stayed because I wanted to and not just because it was where most of my family and friends are.

But things happen, people change and hard decisions have to be made.

It is Time To Go

Technically a writer isn’t struggle to the find the write words to use but on a day of technicalities I am struggling. It is because I am not sure how I want to express these thoughts and ideas.

The easiest way is to say opportunity knocked and I answered.

Something wonderful came my way and I have to set sail for the new world and find out if the fountain of youth is located there or if this is nothing more than a pipe dream. It is not a bad thing this adventure I am about to set out on, but it is hard.

It is hard because I have to leave the family behind. It is the middle of the school year so it makes no sense to uproot the children, especially when I don’t know what things are going to be like.

From here they look magnificent and golden but you can’t make educated decisions about some things from a distance, all you can make are educated guesses.

They Don’t Want Me To Go

They cried when I told them about the new joy and asked why it had to be so far away. When I explained why I was doing this my daughter looked at me and said, “how can it make things better when you are breaking our hearts to do it.”

My son composed himself and asked why I would have to move when technology makes it possible to do anything from anywhere. I told him he was right but that sometimes it is still easier to get work done when you are in the same place as the people you are working with.

I told them no final decisions have been made about where we are living but technically that is not true. Unless I absolutely hate things this will be a short separation and we’ll find a place for all of us to live.

Sometimes I hate technicalities but in this case I know it will make it easier for them to finish out the school year without much fuss.

Call Me Jack Reacher

Tomorrow I’ll load up my car with a couple of suitcases and my laptop and take the first step of this new adventure. I intentionally haven’t made a reservation anywhere so I will drive until I get tired and than find a place to sleep for the night.

Along the way I’ll listen to music and lose myself in whatever thoughts come my way and probably come up with a half dozen different Jack Reacher scenarios all starring me.

Technically they’ll work because it is my imagination making them happen. Technically it will work even though I am not as tall as Reacher and never was in the service. And although I am confident in my ability to handle myself I prefer not to imitate Reacher’s penchant for fighting his way through a town.

It makes for a good story but not part of this one.

I’ll Be Back

I can’t remember a time when I liked saying goodbye so don’t worry Los Angeles, because today isn’t any different. You know I am the guy who slips out the door and rides his horse off into the sunset.

No muss, no fuss.

That is how I prefer it. Would much rather be the lone gunslinger riding towards the next adventure.

Technically I am leaving, but I’ll be back again. It might be for a visit or it might be for something more, can’t say.

Be good Los Angeles and I’ll see you around.

Upside Down & Inside Out

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English: American Airlines Boeing 737-800 taki...
English: American Airlines Boeing 737-800 taking off from Los Angeles International Airport (LAX) in October 2007. Français : Un Boeing 737-800 décollant de l’aéroport international de Los Angeles (LAX) en octobre 2007. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I find people to be…fascinating. They are endlessly amusing creatures who like to think that the things that they do are based upon logic and reason, yet they aren’t. They rarely do anything that isn’t arbitrary in nature. We don’t like to admit these things. We don’t like stare at our own foibles or accept our own mortality.

It is late afternoon and I am seated on an American Airlines airplane waiting to fly back to Los Angeles. The seat belt sign is on and the flight attendants are preparing for takeoff.

My toe is tapping and my knuckles are turning white from gripping the seat. For a moment I wonder if I can crush the armrest with nothing but my fingertips. I am trying hard to think about anything and everything other than my father.

He lies unconscious in a hospital bed some 30 miles away from the airport. He is being kept alive by machines and medication. The flight home will take almost six hours and it is possible that he will die while I am in the air.

A short time earlier I sat next to his bed and spoke softly to him. In the midst of the beeps, clicks, clacks and whirling noises made by the machines that keep him alive I told him about his grandson and reminded him that his daughter-in-law is pregnant

Asked him to wake up for me, begged him to open his eyes and acknowledge me. Asked him not to die because I needed him. Told him that I want him to celebrate my 35th birthday with me and squeezed his hand, but he didn’t squeeze it back.

The captain makes a few announcements but I can barely focus. I don’t know what to do. I am not panicking because dad wouldn’t panic and so I won’t. But he is unconscious and I can’t do anything to help save his life- not from 3,000 miles away.

I close my eyes and think of my son. He is almost 3.5 and I can’t believe that there is a chance that my father will die before they really get to know each other. I can’t believe that he might not get to meet the baby who is yet to come.

Dad is a huge presence in my life and always has been. I feel guilty leaving him. I feel guilty leaving mom there. I hadn’t realized until this moment that he was/is human.

But I can’t stay. I am a father and I learned from my dad that I have to take care of my family.  My grandparents don’t know how serious this is. I didn’t tell them that I wasn’t sure if he would survive long enough for me to fly out and now I have to do it all over again.

I remember telling dad and grandpa about my uncle dying. I remember the pain in my father’s eyes and how I made grandpa cry. I told him that his youngest son was dead. Am I going to be forced to tell him about his oldest too.

The plane pulls away from the gate and begins to taxi towards the runway. For a moment I consider jumping out of my seat and demanding that they let me go. I am sitting close to and emergency exit. I calculate the distance between the door and my seat, figure that I can get there fast enough to open it and jump.

It is crazy and I know it. But my father might die. There is a voice telling me that I am betraying him by not being by his side.

He wouldn’t have left me. That is not how our family works. I am the only son. I know him differently than my sisters. My grandfather wouldn’t leave me either. I can see him crying, can hear grandma say no. The moment haunts me. It is one of a few that stick with me.

The engines roar and as the plane gains speed I am pressed back into my seat. Now all I can do is wait and make silent promises to the future.

You Put The Bullet In Your Dreams

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oodnata
Along the Oodnadatta Track, Australia- Picture taken by Jamie Brelsford

My name is Jack and most of you know me as the insouciant dad blogger who teaches his children to live their dreams and not dream their lives. That is not rhetoric or hype, it is what I believe and what I want for them.

Part of it is because I am their father and my job is to help them grow up to become menschen, to be responsible, productive members of society. The other part is because I sometimes wonder if I am responsible for putting a bullet in my own dreams.

I don’t carry many regrets with me but those few that hang around are massive beasts that swim in the darkest depths occasionally surfacing with the goal of making me question and doubt myself.

The Butt Of The Joke

I spent the Summer of 1985 in Israel and it changed my life. I remember watching Live Aid in a pub in Jerusalem, a beer in my hand, friends to the right of me and my girlfriend on my lap.

I was 16 years-old and my parents were 10,000 miles away but I knew I had found a second home and that the benefits of being far away weren’t the only reasons why I felt so comfortable.

Certainly some of it had to do with feeling of alienation so many teenagers have. I wasn’t on the outside looking in, I was a part of something that wanted and needed me as much as I needed it.

So I decided that I was going to try to spend my freshman year of college in Israel. It sounded like a very grown up thing to do, a reasonable and rational way to try to turn a dream into a reality.

I worked hard and was admitted to a special program at a university and made plans to go, but at the last minute had to pull out because the finances weren’t there.

It was hard and it was painful, made all the more so when I found out I became one of the group jokes. My name was on all of the literature, but I wasn’t there.

Things Change and We Adapt

Several years later I have another shot to go. This time it is for my junior year abroad and I am more determined than ever.

It all looks good, but I have a serious girlfriend who is a few years younger than I am. She asks me not to go, says she wants to go with me and wonders if I will wait.

I am an idiot and I say yes.

She’ll break up with me months after the deadline has passed and going has become an option that only exists if I drop out of school.

That is when I know a put a bullet in that dream and pushed it down where it wouldn’t bother me.

It is also when I start my push to become a professional sportswriter. I love writing and I am part of the college newspaper so it seems to me like I have an opportunity.

A Narrow Window

Things at the newspaper move along nicely and I move from staff writer to editor and eventually become the Editor-In-Chief.

It is a great feeling and I am convinced I am on the right track, except I didn’t become a sportswriter.  Won’t bore you with the who, what, where, when,why and how of it–it didn’t happen and I wonder if I am responsible for that.

I wonder if I am not accountable for putting a bullet in that dream. I wonder if maybe I didn’t want it badly enough or if maybe I was afraid to really try.

It is hard to say for certain, but I take some responsibility for it because I have to.

Israel- The Third Time Is The Trick

Several years after graduation I go back to Israel for a business trip and then hang out afterwards for pleasure. Now I am truly a grown up, or so I think of my 25 year-old self.

That feeling I had before is still there and I know I have to do something about it. So I make arrangements to live with a friend in Jerusalem.

He has a couch I’ll sleep on and knows a guy who needs someone to work at his bar. It is not perfect but I figure it will be enough to get me on my feet.

A couple of weeks later I fly home to pack up my apartment and finalize the details of a big move. I tell my girlfriend about my plan and she says she’d move with me.

Two weeks after that we get engaged and 13 months later we are married.

We did go back to Israel together but not to live, graduate school and children came along and plans changed.

That Was Then and This Is Now

December 2004 changed my life but I didn’t recognize it at the time. It was when I wrote two posts that showed me the power of blogging and helped me engage in some course correction.

Those posts came about six months into my blogging career and are among the few from that time that don’t make me cringe when I read them now.

What I didn’t know was how they and blogging would help me understand the difference between what I want and what I need.

Blogging also helped me realize that I am not old now, maybe older, but not too old to run down the dreams I had or to accept that sometimes dreams change and that is ok.