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

Archives for October 2013

This Post Isn’t Being Written To Go Viral

M*A*S*H Set in Malibu Creek State Park

The nameless faces people refer to as they say that life can turn on a dime and experience has confirmed that for me. I have loved and lost, lived, laughed and learned.

People who meant the world to me have passed through my life and shared moments in time that were precious and some that were painful.

That is because life is bittersweet, emphasis on the sweet part of course. There have been moments where it has been harder to focus on the sweet because things have happened that have made me shake my head in wonder,

There have been moments where I wondered why life thought the best way to teach me something was to shove something sharp and barbed into a place that wasn’t mean to receive such a gift and moments where I felt like I had total clarity and understanding of everything.

Now Is When

Now is when I am focused upon because the transition into the next place has begun. In a few days your old friend Jack will leave Texas and head back to Los Angeles.

Babe I’M Gonna Leave You is playing on iTunes and if you believe music sends a message then maybe these lyrics are appropriate.  Or maybe they aren’t, maybe there is better, something that is clearer, cleaner and more obvious.

Maybe it is fate that Coming Round Again is playing now or maybe it is just coincidence and who am I to wonder or worry about such things because none of them changes this moment and the need to do what has to be done versus the desire to do what I want.

Always hard to try to figure out which is which and to do the right thing, the responsible thing. Frustrating sometimes to be placed in positions where you think you have found the answer to want and need but you can’t act upon it because life requires something different from you.

Yet if I have learned anything from having lived a bit it is that you have to play these things out. You have to be willing to take that extra step and to work just that much harder than the other guy and if you do those things you find out the answers.

Answers are what we always seek, even if we don’t admit, acknowledge or realize that we even have questions.

This Post Won’t Go Viral

All around me I keep hearing and seeing more stuff about the impact of Google on search and how the new change has impacted things. I write posts about how become a better writer and/or talk about comments and comment systems and wonder what I am doing.

Wonder because I hate so much of that content. It is stale. It is sterile and it is boring.

Yet I write it sometimes because it is a guaranteed source of traffic and I seem to require that more than I openly admit. Yet I look at some of my favorite posts I remember that I need to focus on stories and posts that fill my soul and make my heart smile.

Call it melodramatic or hyperbole and I will roll my eyes at you, if I acknowledge you at all.

It is because that kind of writing is what interests me most. It is because stories about people are where I am centered. People are endlessly fascinating and not just to me but to tons of readers.

So if the goal is to generate fans and grow a base of readers who can’t get enough of you than one way to do so is to write about people in a way that allows for others to connect.

I Hate Packing & I Hate Waiting

Not a fan of packing and definitely not a fan of waiting for the big moment.  It feels like this giant thing is hanging over my head and I am sick of feeling it there.

I need to move things along because I can’t move from this moment of transition into the next chapter until that movement happens and it feels like I am treading water.

It reminds me of a fight out on the school yard where the two of you circle each other, doing things to try and work up the courage to hit the other guy.

Well, I didn’t always wait. Sometimes when I saw the opening I punched him in the mouth because the anticipation was killing me. Got a couple more days and then comes the big roundhouse.

I feel unsettled, but that won’t last for much longer.

Fifty Isn’t Old

I have got your back. -)

Fifty isn’t old but when you are a hair short of 25 it sounds ancient. Been thinking a bit about how turbulent my forties have been and wondering when life might resemble whatever it is I thought it might look like when I was younger.

Been looking at the men in my family and thinking about their situations and the realization that 50 isn’t old hit me like a ton of bricks. That is because I was thinking about my dad’s little brother and wondering what he might have to say about some things. Thinking about how similar he was to my dad and grandpa and yet how very different.

Dad, grandpa and I share more than just DNA in common. We all got married, became fathers and worked as the sole breadwinner, but my uncle has a different story.

He was gay and lived during a time when gay marriage was nothing but a dream.  I remember when he told me he was HIV+ and I remember his funeral with crystal clarity.

I was him, he was me and grandpa and dad but he wasn’t us. We didn’t give a damn about his choices because he was family and we loved him.

Can’t remember a time when writing about him didn’t make me wish he was still here.

Fifty Isn’t Old

That is me in the photo above, 43 and participating in Movember but I wonder if my uncle would recognize me. I wonder if he still saw me as being some little kid or if he really saw me as being a kid of 25.

Maybe he did, I am not sure but what I am certain of is that even though I knew then he was quite young it is now that I recognize just how young he was when he died.

Fifty is still a few years off but I have more than a few friends who crossed that line long ago and god knows a million cousins that have too. All the big ones I used to look up to are standing on the other side.

So here I am thinking about visiting him while I was in college and being surprised to find him listening to Guns N’Roses. It seems so silly and juvenile of me now, why should I have been surprised that he was listening to cool music.

Maybe it was just me. Maybe I was the one with the perception issue. It doesn’t really matter. If I found out that he still pictured me as as a little boy I won’t care any more than I would if he saw me as a man.

Time Moves So Very Quickly

I am listening to GNR now and maybe it is coincidence, but their cover of Knockin On Heaven’s Door just came on. I’ll take it as a hello from somewhere else.

What I know is that I would have very much liked for him to meet my family. My daughter thought I was kidding when I told him that grandpa had a younger brother.

Dad just laughed because his grandchildren can do no wrong, but it bothered me a bit. Bothered me because even though we didn’t live in the same city we still saw him frequently and he was at every major family event until he wasn’t.

That is just how it was and still is in my family.

We show up. We go to family parties for all sorts of things.

Not everyone does that. I listen to some of my friends talk about how they hate family events and I feel badly. I don’t always love them and like everyone else I know there are family members on both sides that irritate me.

But family is important.

Can’t rely on everyone but family is always there and it is important to me to make sure my kids see that.

Streets Of Philadelphia

I remember seeing my uncle kiss his boyfriend once and I remember not being sure what to make of it. I was 18 and trying to figure out what it meant to be a man.

My uncle wasn’t the stereotypical gay man and he didn’t push that kiss in my face. It was as natural and normal as the way I kissed my girlfriend back then.

I remember going to see Streets of Philadelphia in the theater. I remember two guys in front of me silently sobbing through the movie and trying to figure out if I would feel any different at my uncle’s funeral. He wasn’t dead yet, but HIV was a death  sentence so I knew it was coming.

Feels kind of silly saying that because it is obvious. It hurt. I loved my uncle and I missed him. We all did.

Nineteen years later I still do.

The Police Will Arrest You For Trying To Give Congress An Enema

Some of you might wonder if I am trying to see how many people I can scare away from sharing this post and some may wonder how many I am trying to get to read it.

Truth is I am not sure how I came up with this headline. I am too busy staring at my son’s grades and trying to decide if I should be worried  or not.

Boy and Sheep
Not the greatest quality shot but few will have better because how many times do you see a sheep riding a bike.

Little man is an honors student with A’s and B’s in everything but math where he is a hair short of a B. Not sure if I should be concerned because math is his strongest subject and he isn’t doing as well. Not sure if I am supposed to let it play out as it will because he needs to learn to advocate for himself or if this is where I play dad, kick him in the ass and say step it up.

Focus on What Is Important

I am trying to focus on what is important and I don’t see grades as being particularly accurate form of measurement. But people like to measure all kinds of things so that we can make various determinations about this and that.

Sometimes those things are useful and sometimes they function as well as a government that thinks it is ok to stop working because they don’t like each other.

Yeah, that is simplification but I get irritated because in the real world most of us risk getting fired when we say we won’t work with a colleague because we don’t like them. It is as logical as saying we are going to use Lake Superior to drown the Pacific Ocean.

But what the fuck do I know about anything. Some people think it makes sense to help make sure their sheep isn’t late for an appointment by letting them ride upon their back while peddling a bicycle.

Maybe that is more effective than Crossfit. Might be worth looking into for me.

Really, been looking in the mirror and noticing that there is a bit more gray on the sides of my head, a few more wrinkles and one more pair of old Levis I can’t wear comfortably.

Do We Care About Becoming Better Content Marketers?

Do we care about becoming better content marketers or finding ways to increase the number of readers. Does it matter that I only have 516 Facebook fans?

If I hate grades and think they are worthless am I a hypocrite for noticing or complaining that I don’t have as many as the next Sneetch. Am I a jerk for saying that it irritates me to see inferior writers with more success.

And what kind of father am I for pushing my kid to do better or not pushing him harder.

When my daughter tells me she doesn’t think twerking is cool should I celebrate managing to protect one more piece of her innocence or do I cry because there are still homeless people and the jackasses in Washington are hurting people who need the services and resources of the government.

Am I a schmuck for telling the birthers that they are dire need of the kind of blowjob that makes your eyes roll back in your head or am I an ass for not going after the other side more aggressively.

Hell I have been told more than once I am intolerant, unresponsive and angry white asshole for bashing millenials. If I am not bothered by that maybe I should come down harder on these people, whomever they are.

“Not all those who wander are lost.”  J.R.R. Tolkien

I am a wanderer and a seeker. Life is most assuredly different than I had planned and or expected. Don’t know exactly what I had thought it would be but this isn’t it.

Not saying it is bad or that I am upset but it is different. I could share snapshots in time with you and give you what I think I was thinking in those moments but that is not part of this post.

I am just doing my best to be a good father and a good person. Most of the time I feel pretty good about those things but they don’t give grades to parents so what the hell do I know.

What do you think?

This Is The Reason I Shot Him

"Come, Sit, Tell Me About America..." (#1 of 2 - a set)

I am quite tired today because I spent two hours in a ridiculous argument with a friend. It started out as a simple conversation in which we were catching up and turned into something rather ugly.

In the midst of a discussion about the government shutdown he went off on a rant that was based on what he thought he heard and not upon what I said.

As I sat there listening I wondered if old Abe ever had a similar experience.

People Listening Without Hearing

I was tempted to page Mr. Simon and Mr. Garfunkel because the beginning of the disagreement started when my friend cut me off during a story about something I read on Facebook and went ballistic because I didn’t agree with him.

Those of you who know me well are aware that I hate being cut off.  No one likes it very much, but it is a hot button with me. If you cut me off midstream you are telling me that my story/thoughts aren’t as important as yours.

If you don’t have time to talk than tell me you don’t have time and I’ll understand. Send me an email or text to let me know you are thinking of me and then call when you have a moment.

I see moments like last night as proof of the problems that come from not listening.

The genesis of the disagreement began when I told him about a Facebook post where someone wrote no one should ever be a billionaire and then used inaccurate math to prove their point.

The point I had wanted to make was that anger, misinformation and a lack of real conversation was causing chaos but when my friend heard billionaire he lost it.

No One Should Be A Billionaire

He went nuts because I told him I disagreed and I didn’t think it was impossible for someone to become a billionaire under fair and equitable terms. I said I thought I someone could earn it and he ranted about the disparity of wealth and how no one should ever earn that much more than others.

When he refused to listen to my side I egged him on a bit but I didn’t say anything I don’t believe. He made blanket statements and suggested that the gardener and janitor work harder than any millionaire and suggested that anyone who was wealthy inherited it, got lucky or made it on the backs of others.

Some people are lucky. They are born into wealth or they come up with an idea and good timing but that doesn’t mean they are bad people.

And some people just work their asses off, save, invest and manage their money well. If you do that it is impossible to turn a couple of bucks into something more and do it in an ethical way.

But he insisted it was wrong because someone built a foundation to make it possible for them to do that.  I hear what he is saying, but I thought at some point you give people credit for the work they do. Most success is built upon prior success and that doesn’t automatically devalue it.

What You Deserve and What You Earn

It’s worth mentioning I think there is a slippery slope here. When you start deciding what is fair and how much people need/deserve you get into an area that makes me uncomfortable.

It is also worth mentioning I’d like to more equitable taxation so we are all paying the same proportion. Pay people a minimum wage that is enough to live on and I’ll be happier too.

But I don’t particularly cotton to trying tell someone that they don’t need a $80,000 car or a 10,000 SQF mansion because perspective is relative and those are the kinds of decisions that can bite you later.

The disparity of wealth concerns me and I am always interested in trying to have as a level a playing field as possible but I also recognize that luck isn’t always involved.

Some people work harder. Some people make smarter decisions and they shouldn’t necessarily be penalized for that either. A rising tide lifts all ships but it doesn’t translate in every possible way.

One Last Thing

I don’t need my friends and relatives to agree with me on every thing, in fact I prefer they don’t. I like differing points of view and having my thoughts challenged.

I just don’t like wasting time in a stupid fight because someone wasn’t listening and being told that because I disagree I am uninformed. Difference of opinion doesn’t always mean one purpose is right and the other is wrong. Sometimes both sides can be wrong because they are both misinformed.

What Is The Value Of A Comment?

Red Umbrella

5 Songs

  • Skyfall- Adele (Theme to Skyfall)
  • In My Life- The Beatles
  • I’m On Fire- Bruce Springsteen
  • Over You- Cassadee Pope (The Voice)
  • Pictures Of You- The Cure
  • American Pie- Don McLean

If you aren’t paying attention there are actually six songs listed above. iTunes says those are among the top 25 songs I have been listening to and I could use those six as inspiration for about 36 more posts, no exaggeration.

But that is not what we are here for because today we are talking about the value of a comment and the search for meaning is probably a big part of why/how we could write those other 36 posts I mentioned.

It has been a few months since I installed the Comments Evolved plugin and began offering my readers multiple ways to comment. Google+, Facebook, Livefyre and DISQUS are all available for your use and in theory that was supposed to energize the comments here. Multiple options were supposed to make it easier for people to comment and that was supposed to start the fire.

Traffic Increased & Comments Went Down

Based upon my unscientific study of the last few months traffic has increased and comments have gone down. The increased emphasis on Google+ has definitely brought new readers and new subscribers but the posts don’t receive as many comments as they used to.

Of Dads and Daughters is one of the best posts I have ever written and in the old days it would have generated three times as many comments as it has now, but it didn’t. Part of me doesn’t care because I write first for me and then for you. Writing is like breathing for me so this happens regardless of everything else.

But I am a seeker of answers and someone who works with social media so there is personal and professional curiosity about why things changed.

Some of it might be tied into my own participation on other blogs having dropped and some of it might have something to do with the type and quality of content here.

And that brings me to the question of what is the value of a comment?

What is A Comment Worth?

This is not the first discussion about comments here. You are welcome to read Blog Comments Are Not Currency and What Is The Value Of Comment Sense? and see if the line of thought is consistent.

I am torn about comments because they remind me of the big jar of Jelly Bellys I sometimes buy at Costco. I love some of the flavors, like others and some I dislike because of the awful taste.

The really good comments provide insight and or inspiration. They educate and motivate you and those are wonderful things. Comments help you recognize you are not in a vacuum and that can be a good thing too.

When I first started blogging I was shocked to see that I had readers. It seemed crazy to me to see that people not only read my words but were motivated to say something about them.

Hell, it reminds me of the opening of American Pie

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

It feels good when people tell you they love your writing and that you made them laugh, cry and or get angry. It feels good to make others feel because it means you have managed to steal some fire from the gods and have harnessed the power of lightning.

Because when you want to be a published author who just writes there is merit in showing those that hold the purse strings that you can do this.

Contradictions

I know how to game the system so that traffic continues to increase and the comments keep coming. Some of that can be done by writing “how to” posts, especially when you cover basic blogging tips.

Some of it can be done by writing nothing but controversial posts or by spending time commenting everywhere. You can do it by writing about how much you love being a parent and writing stories about what that involves.

Do those things and make the rounds and people will come and comment.

That is not a knock against those who do that, because I did it and who knows might do it again. But you don’t last at this game unless you enjoy it and for me I am ultimately focused on doing things my way because it is what brings me joy.

“All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.

From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken,
The crownless again shall be king.”
― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring

Well Hung Bloggers Make More Money

car fans III

Let’s preface this with it is never wise to Poke The Bear, Irritate Grumpy or Wake The Curmudgeon. And yes I am referring to myself and no you won’t see me in the picture or for that matter any of those cars.

Hell, unless I win the lottery you aren’t going to see me driving one of them new fangled, fancy race cars because I have kids and I am more interested in feeding and clothing them than owning one of those cars.

If I did win the lottery I would definitely buy a car  or two for me because I like cars and I like driving so might as well have something fun. But the caveat here is that I own the car, it doesn’t own me.

What that means is that I have be in a financial position where I am willing to park it without worrying about whether it will be stolen, dinged and or damaged.

Writing For The Sake of Writing

I am a writer and I write for the sake of writing and not because I hope that every brand will pay me to sell their products. I am a writer and I write because I don’t know how not to write.

I write, I write, I write and then I write some more. It is why I have multiple blogs, several lap tops and lots of pens and paper. Writing is like breathing for me and I expect that when I stop writing it will be because I am what the boys used to call a ground monkey.

Don’t ask me what that means or to explain its origin because I am not sure and though I love etymology don’t have time or inclination to look that one up.

Too busy trying to take care of moving my stuff from the current temporary location to the next temporary location. Love being a nomad but unlike my younger nomadic years I own a few nice things so I have to pay attention to making sure they stay that way.

That is part of why you haven’t seen as many posts here, life has taken me elsewhere but I never stopped writing.

Yet I can’t escape the daily dozen posts about how to monetize the blog, how to use a list to make money and all the triple chaser of “do this to be a better blogger who people love and want to be.”

Pay Me To Write Or Write To Pay Me

Don’t misunderstand me, you can pay me to write. I have written for brands and I will do so again. Don’t mind getting paid for a blog post provided it is profitable.

Those last three words are of paramount importance and many bloggers miss them.

I don’t work for free and I get irritated with those who do because they devalue my work. Don’t tell me everyone needs to start somewhere which is why you will put in 100 hours of work  for a $10 gift card.

Most of you are probably smart enough to know better and I am sure you wouldn’t agree to be my sex slave because I told you I would bring you another five readers. On the other hand if you are someone who puts out for promises that no one can keep I might want to talk to you, never know when I can use the stress relief.

Want to know what write to pay me means?

It means that I write because it feeds my heart and satisfies my soul. That is not hyperbole. I don’t love everything I write because some of it is crap, but the only way you improve is by doing it on a regular basis.

Teach Your Children Well

Sometimes my kids ask me how they’ll figure out what they should do when they are grownups and I tell them they have to give life some time to help them see what makes them happy.

If you are lucky you figure it out early and go from there. It doesn’t always work like that and sometimes you have to spend some time living a little bit before you recognize what does it for you

Blogging is what helped me remember how much I loved to write and for that I will always be grateful. Writing is like my air and part of why I just don’t get crazy about whether I am the blogger who monetizes my blog or not because I won’t ever stop.

Hope my kids feel like this about something some day.

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