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

Dad Blogger

The Definitive Guide To Being a Dad Blogger

Read, Write at Coco Momo

They say that if you ask you shall receive and I have certainly seen that happen to me. An unnamed publisher is paying me a very handsome sum to write The Definitive Guide To Being A Dad Blogger.  If you ask me what I am happiest about I would tell you that it is a handsome sum of money and not something ugly and meaningless.

Or maybe the thing that makes me happiest is that I get to write the Definitive guide and not some cheap unauthorized knock off.  Hell yeah, Jack doesn’t roll with imitation Kate Spade bags or fake Rolex watches. I am so damn cool and suave that the Three card Monty scam artists won’t let me play because I always take their money. Not only that, but the valets pay me to park my car.

How do you like them apples.

Damn if I haven’t gone off on a tear again. I am taking the blogosphere by storm punching out high quality posts that are stamped Grade A. If these were steaks you would call them Kobe and pay exorbitant sums to eat my meat. But I am all helping the common man and woman which is why I provide these words free of charge.

How exciting. How novel. How different.

Some of you are probably wondering how I was discovered and what kind of mojo must reside in my pants pocket. Well I have to tell you that you can’t buy the sort of mojo I have and it is not because I swing to the right, left or center. It is because I am a proud American who has pulled himself up by his bootstraps and created an empire out of a mound of cyber dirt.

My kids walk tall at school and tell all their friends that I am a blogger and then they just smile. Fortunately their old enough to pronounce the word because there was a time when they said that I was a booger and that creates an entirely different sort of image than blogger.

I have so much street cred at that school that the mean mom mafia hides from me. No teacher, parent or student dare cross me because I am armed with a laptop, internet connection and fingers of fury. From my post at the coffee shop I can heap copious amounts of scorn down upon their deserving hides.

Sadly the fine folks at Maybach haven’t figured out how important I am. They don’t take my calls or return my letters and consequently you folks won’t get to read the review of my week driving a Maybach. But I see that as a good opportunity for the other automotive companies to step in.

Drop me a line and we can talk about how this mighty keyword stuffing, SEO hating, semi anonymous dad blogger can take your car for a spin and then write an amazing review that will make people want to buy your vehicle for their own magical mystery tour.  Come correct and do the right thing so that I can do the write thing. Together we can create a Revolution that won’t go Helter Skelter.

Stay tuned to this bat channel my friends and watch as I work my magic. Witness and wonder the majesty of my blogging might which I of course take ever so seriously.

Linkbait, it is whats for dinner.

Bitter Dad Blogger Bites Back

Dear Babble,

I am not going to congratulate you for starting a “new” section for the dads and it is not because I think that the name Dadding is stupid. Nor is it because you didn’t include me in your list of Top Dad bloggers or because I am not one of the token dads writing for the tiny little corner you devoted to fathers.

Some of the fellas are excited about this because they think that it shows progress. Some of the guys are excited because they think that dads are finally being recognized for our role in parenting. And some of them are excited because they think that this means that people are finally paying attention to dad blogs.

My juvenile response is to say that you can all “bite me” in far more graphic terms than those two words but that wouldn’t be mature and we’re all about maturity so we’ll give you more substance.

I am not interested in being given the “right” to sit in the back of the bus on your blog. The overwhelming amount of your content isn’t directed at fathers, let alone men. Nor do I expect to see much of an impact from adding the Dadding crew. That is ok, you can have your sections about pregnancy, breastfeeding and things that are really geared towards mothers.

Really, there is only so much dads can do in some of those areas which is why the echo chamber of posts about being supportive of your wife/partner exists.

New fathers might be interested in that kind of stuff not to mention a million other things that come up during the pregnancy and afterwards. A blog that says that it is for “a new generation of parents” might consider being a bit more inclusive or changing their tagline to more accurately reflect their focus.

Focus. Right now my focus isn’t upon the linkbait and drama that comes from creating a list of top bloggers but of the nonsensical comments that people make about dad blogs being “new.” Some of you remind me of Columbus discovering the “New World.” Just like the Native Americans who couldn’t figure out what Columbus was talking about I can’t figure out why people talk about dad blogs as being new.

I do understand that dads haven’t been as good at organizing as the moms which is why some of this has occurred. I understand that it has been in the interest of moms to portray themselves as being the major decision makers in many households. That is a useful tool for trying to garner business from brands, inaccurate but useful.

It doesn’t account for any of the single fathers nor does it really take into account all of the joint decisions that take place in a household. And just for kicks lets tip our hats to the dads who are the cooks in their homes and the lack of focus upon them.

I would write more but I need to go make an appearance at the school my kids attend. Can’t wait to hear how cute it is for a father to show up and how sweet a guy I am because I did more than make a deposit at the sperm bank. The saddest part about this is that I am not novel. I will be one of many fathers that show up and yet this ridiculous 1950s stereotype continues to persist.

Well I better go now because in several hours I expect Mrs. Cleaver to meet me at the door. She better have her hair done, be wearing pearls and have a hot meal on the table or she’ll receive a stern talking to about being a responsible wife.

The Greatest Dad Blogger Of Them All

dream on

Sometimes I think that SEO is killing writers. Sometimes I think our need to wonder and worry about how to promote our words in a way that ensures they aren’t given short shrift is wreaking havoc on our creativity.

One of my non-patented secrets for writing is that I am 298.5 pounds of child. That curly haired boy with the green eyes and olive skin called Jack never grew up completely. He got a little bit bigger and his hair got a bit less curly but he didn’t disappear. He just became a father and learned how to  tune out the child inside.

It is kind of sad. Sometimes the need to pay attention to SEO and marketing makes the child feel even more sad. Kids don’t care about trying to convince search engines to rank them first. When they write about being The Greatest Dad Blogger of them all they see themselves flying alongside Snoopy because someone has to make sure that the Evil Red Baron doesn’t take out our favorite beagle.

They are too busy building Lego fortresses and using the Force to stop the Sith. Who has time for title tags when your name is Indiana Jones and you are fighting Nazis. That bullwhip is far too cool and much more interesting than the grownup stuff.

Some of you have talked about my having had a hard run this year and I agree with you. Much of it has sucked. But some of it has been bad because of what has happened to friends and family. When I look at the unofficial list I sort of shake my head.

My grandfather died. The infant son of a friend died. Two very important people in my life lost their fathers and last week one of my friends died.

Well, the reason I keep going isn’t just because I am a father. It is because that little boy Jack, the one who made Snoopy be his wingman has dreams that help him. He never gave up or stopped believing in some of them and that hope is the flame in the night he follows. Sometimes it is dark but that flame never quite goes out and Jack never stops digging.

Truth is that if I stopped I think I might die. I don’t say that to be melodramatic but because it is such a big part of me.

Nanowrimo and Movember

Nanowrimo continues. Every day I add pieces to the puzzle but I still haven’t figured it all out. I am sort of torn on formatting, trying to work out the best way to put it together. I want to have a handle on the individual pieces but I also want to present them as part of the whole.

I am part of the mighty dad blogging team that is taking on Movember. The men are working hard to make a difference in the world of men’s health which is why I am growing one nasty mustache. Might have to take the stache and become a motorcycle cop or try to star in a remake of a bad 70’s porno. Alternatively I could pitch Hollywood on a script set on the mean streets of cleveland. Could be kind of fun to make the river burst into flames fifteen or twenty times.

More importantly I would like to invite you to support the Movember movement by making a donation.

Where does the money go?

Funds raised through the Movember US campaign go to Movember (Tax ID: 77-0714052) which is a national, not for profit organization with 501(c)(3) registration.

The net funds are committed to programs supporting prostate cancer and other male cancer initiatives run by Movember and through our men’s health partners the Prostate Cancer Foundation and LIVESTRONG.

And that my friends is all she wrote. It is time for this old man to get some shut eye. This post was part of The Just Write Project of my favorite weekly linkups.

The Blog That Never Was

This is the story of the blog that never was. It is the true story of how three friends in the midst of a bad economy developed a plan to take control of their destiny by creating a dad blog.

Our story begins in during the spring of 2009. It is a beautiful day in Los Angeles featuring endless blue skies and beautiful women on rollerblades. Our three heroes are seated around a table at an outdoor cafe talking about their lives and wondering how they got to be where they are at.

You see all three are fathers, college educated and homeowners. Each of them got a job straight out of college and has been working steadily ever since, or at least until recently.

Not unlike millions of others a rough economy has impacted all of them. Two out of the three are technically under employed. The third owns his own business but is going through rough times.

They aren’t willing to just let things happen so they seek to take control of life by coming up with ideas for a side venture that they can all work on. They figure that their combination of skills, experience and motivation should be enough to help them build a vehicle that will provide supplemental income and maybe in time become something more.

Numerous ideas are thrown around and bandied about and they come up with the idea to create a group dad blog. They don’t have any misconceptions that it will take time and work to build it but that doesn’t frighten them. Hard work is part of any worthwhile endeavor.

Over the next few weeks they meet again and develop an outline and plan for what the blog should be. Special attention is given to the content because they know that it will be critical. Eventually they finish the plan and begin to set the wheels in motion to get things started.

And then life gets in the way.

Two out of the three men find themselves in the middle of getting divorced and though they swear they will help build the blog it doesn’t happen. The third man is disappointed but he understands. It is a monster mess, divorce and they have their hands full. Between trying to determine custody, who gets what and their other responsibilities the dad blog they planned on building never does happen.

It has become the blog that was and another symbol of why group projects can be so difficult.

One Father Speaks- The Media Does Not Define Me

“These are the days now that we must savor
And we must enjoy as we can
These are the days that will last forever
You’ve got to hold them in your heart.”
These Are The Days- Van Morrison

Those nameless few who make up the people we refer to as “they say” tell me that the mirror doesn’t lie. If that is true than the years haven’t been as kind to me as I might like them to be.

A few lines and creases have attached themselves to my face and some of the hair that used to cover my head has chosen to head elsewhere. The hard body isn’t as hard as it once was and a host of mystery aches seem to have taken up residence. Fortunately a good stretch in the morning sends them running away at high speed.

But none of that is particularly significant or important. That is not to say that I think it is ok to become a complete slop and let my physical health slide because I am adamantly against that.  My real focus is upon how the internal affects the external.

The Media Says…

If you spend time surfing through the dad blogosphere you’ll find an ongoing discussion about how the media portrays us and whether we need to do something about it. My gut feeling is that some of us are missing the boat.

I am not disputing that there are more than a few examples of men/fathers being presented in an unfavorable light and that this could cause issues. However I don’t spend much time worrying about it because my focus is upon my own actions and how I present myself.

People remember how you made them feel first and what you did second. I see both of those as metrics that I can support. They offer a different sort of clout than the Klout so many in social media debate about.

So while I cannot completely discount that stupidity can be contagious I cannot and will not spend all of my time railing about how unfair life can be. You don’t hear every story about the mothers at the park who tell me that they think it is cute to see me “babysit” my children.

That is not the only irritant. When I use a public restroom I know that sometimes a mother is going to come charging in to try and confirm that there are no scary people in there with her children. I am a parent. I get that, but if I am in the stall I am not going to announce my presence or engage in conversation with mom.

Some of the boys are irritated because there is a double standard. My 7 year-old daughter will not use the men’s room. It is not a question and I know that should I dare stick my head in the ladies room there will be an uproar. It is not right and it is not fair but life isn’t fair.

What Is The Point

The point is that we need to pick and choose our battles. We need to focus our energy on the things that matter. For me that primary effort is devoted to my children. It is devoted to making sure that they get a great education and learn how to be productive members of society.

I want them to learn the importance of generosity and gratitude. I want them to appreciate the value of hard work and to understand that we judge people based upon their actions and not their image.

I want them to learn how to distinguish between fighting for pride and principle.There is a time for everything and if they learn those distinctions it will serve them well in life.

All the rest is just commentary.

Why Is Daddy Crying

LoVE Dot. Dot .dot .I don’t suffer from Writer’s Block…ever. Words are my friends and family. Really, the words that I write here are often effortless and shared with ease. Most of the time the quality of my work is solid but it would be untrue for me to say that it never falls short of the mark. But since I like to use the blog as a cyber sandbox I rarely edit or modify these posts.

Some might say that is a mistake, especially since the blog has led to many freelance writing jobs. Some might say that I tarnish my reputation and damage my online resume by not taking care to cull the weaker posts from the field. But I don’t work that way. I don’t hide my blemishes from me which means that I don’t hide them from you. Those posts help me strengthen and improve my skills so I prefer to keep them where they are easily accessible. Besides it feels more authentic to me.

It is also tied into why I sometimes like to dig through the archives here. Seven years of posting has provided a treasure chest of material to read. Some of it is quite good and some of it is awful, dreadfully bad. Today I find myself revisiting the topic of men and emotions- more specifically whether men cry or not.

Earlier this week the dark haired beauty wandered into my bedroom and was shocked by what she thought she saw. I had just using some eye drops and had accidentally squeezed too hard on the bottle sending a stream of it rushing down my cheeks. Since she walked in prior to my wiping my face she grew quite concerned and asked me why I was crying. I assured her that I wasn’t crying but she decided that I was lying about it and told me not to be embarrassed.

She hasn’t ever read The Tears That Do not Fall so she is unfamiliar with that story. Maybe she remembered the conversation we had here or maybe not. I can say that some things have changed there somewhat, but not so much that she didn’t press me on this.

I looked down at her and thanked for her concern and received a very stern lecture about being honest. I suppose that it wasn’t fair of me, but I couldn’t help laughing. She was very sweet and I am more than appreciative of her concern about my welfare. So I thanked her again and told her not to worry. Moments later I heard her whispering to her brother, “daddy’s crying.” And then I learned that in his old age he is becoming far more clever as he made a point to tell her to close the door so that I couldn’t hear them speaking.

For a moment I remained seated on my bed and then I decided that I wanted to know more about their discussion. Slowly I tiptoed over towards the bedroom door only to hear my son say, ” we can hear you dad.”

Damn, the little man has learned more of my tricks than I had realized. That is the sort of thing that makes you smile with pride and grimace with frustration. I am not an eavesdropper. I don’t go snooping around but I do pay attention to what they do/say. I am dad and that is part of my job. Really, if I emailed you the job description you would see it listed there.

But I do wonder about this a bit. I am not a ‘cryer.’ It is not something that people see with me. I get sad and upset like everyone else. I just don’t shed tears easily. But what I wonder a bit is what sort of impact that has on the children, especially my son. I am very affectionate with them. I don’t run around telling him to ‘man up’ or try to make crying seem weak.  But then again there have been times where I told him that life isn’t fair and to just ‘suck it up.’ So I wonder if I am sending mixed messages. My gut says no, but sometimes I am wrong.

Of course that is rare and infrequent, but it does happen every now and then.  I wonder though what would happen if they saw me cry. Would it scare them because it is so out of character or would they just take it in stride. Have to think about it a bit.

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