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He’s Just Another Dad Blogger
There is a teenage boy who went to sleep feeling frustrated and guilty because he is nervous about going to school tomorrow.
I told him that he did the right thing and that the appropriate response to what happened with this other child isn’t something he should worry about but I know it didn’t ease the unrest inside his head.
He says he wants to be more like me because I am good at not worrying about life the way he is and I laugh.
Before he asks me if I am laughing at him I put a hand on his shoulder and tell him I am laughing because I used to be him and in many ways I still am.
I haven’t ever tried to describe parenting to him as a crazy Japanese game show because he wouldn’t get it and I wouldn’t expect him to.
Doesn’t mean I haven’t tried to give him some insight into this gig because I have but it is the kind of crazy you never understand until you are in the midst of it and even then you don’t always recognize just how nutty it sounds.
Sometimes Dad Doesn’t Know What To Do
I didn’t tell him about all of the times I wasn’t sure what to do and just did my best to make a smart choice because uncertainty here would make him more nervous.
Didn’t tell him how his problem feels simple to me because I feel like I am watching a tsunami form in front of me and I haven’t figured out yet whether I am going to get to high ground before it hits or if I am going to try to ride that sucker out.
It is a funny feeling to look at the mass of water and wonder what kind of pounding I’ll take if I fall off of the board this time while thinking that if I do I am going to have one hell of a story to tell.
Sometimes when I am not certain about how I want to proceed I pretend that I am outsider looking in at someone else and I try to figure out what sort of advice I would offer.
This time all I heard was some guy giggling, “he’s just another dad blogger trying to generate more page views.”
Stood up, walked over the medicie cabinet and told that reflection in the mirror to admit he is nervous because he hasn’t a clue what to say because he is ‘winging it.’
It Went The Way It Had To
A few weeks ago I watched an episode of The Walking Dead and listened to one of the characters talk about an event on the show.
“It went the way it had to, The way it was always going to.”
That line keeps bouncing around inside my head, pin balling back and forth.
I hear it and I think about my expectations for the future and how I am working to make them materialize.
It is me working hard to take charge of life and to control my destiny. It is me working my ass off to make things happen yet so much is outside of my control.
All I have to do is look back upon my life and there are 1,983,983 examples of how my plans didn’t always work out and how I did my best to manage things.
Sometimes it worked out beautifully and I couldn’t be happier with the outcome and sometimes it wasn’t quite as nice.
And let’s be honest, some of those moments were awful, moments that I would prefer not to relive or experience again.
I haven’t forgotten the times where my best effort didn’t work out the way I thought it should or how I felt when it felt like best effort translated as failure.
Back then I would have looked at Lennon’s quote and told him he needed a double dose of STFU and a size 12 boot to the ass because that sort of song lyric is wasted prose.
But today I am not who I once was and not yet the man I think I am on my way to becoming. Now I look at those words and figure it does not matter whether I am meant to be in this place or not because I am.
I am here and all I can do is try my best to make it all work.
Can I Skip School Tomorrow?
Right after I read the email from the school to my son he asked me if I thought he could skip going to class.
His rationale wasn’t completely off base because he figured that if this other kid might react poorly and that it wouldn’t hurt to give him some time.
But I told him no because sometimes the only way to get to the other side of a situation is by going through.
He nodded his head and we shared a few more thoughts and then I told him that sometimes the hardest part about being a father is you don’t always get to be the hero any more.
When he asked me what I meant I pulled out my Geek Card and told him that in Star Wars parlance it meant I am Darth Vader and that if we were talking about the Lord of The Rings it meant I am Gandalf.
I won’t bore you with the discussion about whether I could be Yoda or if Gandalf is better and just share this quote below.
When he said he thought it was a cool quote I smiled and said I agreed and then I told him I have had plenty of moments where I wished I didn’t have to deal with certain things but that life doesn’t ask us if we want to or not.
It just puts a situation in front of us and gives us a chance to handle it or run away and we don’t run.
What’s The Appropriate Response?
What is the appropriate response to learning another child wishes yours was dead.
That is not the sort of comment or question I ever thought I would be asked to contemplate.
Had you asked the Jack who had a pregnant wife but had not yet become a father to list what frightened him he might have said he was worried about his child getting hurt in a household accident.
He might have said he was concerned about them falling out of a tree or getting hit by a car but he wouldn’t have said he worried about school shootings or kids saying they wished his child was dead.
I suppose if you pushed him to empty out all of his fears he might have said he wondered if his children would ever deal with antisemitism and wondered how he would handle it.
But I can’t remember a single moment where I imagined a day would come when my son would come home and tell me another kid had told the other children at school he wished my son would drop dead.
Fact is when my son told me it made him nervous and uncomfortable I told him I thought the other kid was just exaggerating and said he shouldn’t worry about it.
*****
The two of them have had a bit of a rocky relationship for a while now and for the most part I have tried to stay out of it.
I have made it clear that he can always talk to me. Made it clear I would listen and share thoughts/ideas but said I would only get involved if it looked like he couldn’t manage things.
It wasn’t because I don’t care or wasn’t bothered by it because I was and I am but I figure it is a good life lesson. It is important to learn how to deal with difficult people.
Not to mention that in my day the worst thing you could do was involve your parents in something like this. That would have invited more trouble and it is precisely why I didn’t tell my parents about disagreements with other kids.
That didn’t stop them from finding out. You can blame that to a black eye, some bruises and a little sister who had no problem telling my folks when I had another fight.
Yeah, there was more than a couple of those and if life was still as it was then I might have told my son to punch this kid in the throat.
But today you get expelled for fighting and I would prefer that he not do it if he can avoid it.
Anyhoo, reminiscing about what once was won’t help solve the challenges of today so I am forced to ask the question.
What’s The Appropriate Response?
I am not the type of person who freaks out at potential boogie men or jumps every time says boo. I don’t put on a sweater because you are cold and I don’t believe most people really mean for someone to die when they say they wish Timmy were dead.
Yet this is my son we are talking about, my child, and a father’s responsibility includes protecting his family.
It felt wrong to panic and wrong to not do anything about it but the question I asked myself was what was an appropriate response.
Part of me wanted to go visit this kid and have the sort of conversation with him that would ensure he understood it would be safer not to speak with my son again.
But the courts frown upon forty-something-year-old men having those types of conversations with teenage boys and I still wasn’t certain it was necessary.
So I took a short walk and intentionally thought about other things. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to clear my head for a few and see if that didn’t provide some clarity.
Otter: Dead! Bluto’s right. Psychotic… but absolutely right. We gotta take these bastards. Now we could do it with conventional weapons, but that could take years and cost millions of lives. No, I think we have to go all out. I think that this situation absolutely requires a really futile and stupid gesture be done on somebody’s part! – Animal House
That is an excerpt from one of my favorite scenes in Animal House. Sometimes when I am feeling a bit stressed out I pull it up in my head to lighten the mood.
Most of the time it helps take the edge off and that is always useful for making decisions.
I needed it tonight because in spite of my insouciant appearance I took this seriously and wanted to make the best decision I could based upon what I know.
What I Did
I wrote the school a short but detailed letter outlining the past problems with this boy and mentioned he has said he would like my son to drop dead.
Part of me was hesitant to do so because I am not convinced he truly meant what he said yet I felt it was better to err on the side of caution.
Better to make them aware of what this boy has said.
Better to document this and put them on notice so that if this escalates at all I can point out that we notified them about the problem.
Chances are it is nothing but talk but better safe than sorry.
This parenting business isn’t for the faint of heart.
Is There Such A Thing As Too Many Gifts?
It Is More Than Just Bad Timing
It was a bad Thanksgiving dinner but not because the turkey was dry or because any of the other food was sub par.
I was the reason it was bad or rather it was my bad attitude and bad mood.
This year I didn’t want to do anything or be a part of any sort of celebration because I didn’t feel like I had anything to celebrate. Doesn’t mean I am not grateful for my health and for those I love because I am but this year it wasn’t enough to keep my frustration from spilling over a bit.
Job interviews have come and gone, some have resulted in definitive no’s and others have not said one way or another but the long silence between conversations doesn’t lend itself to optimism.
Dancing on the razor’s edge has become a way of life for me and though I have become adept at finding ways to avoid serious injury it doesn’t mean I haven’t suffered from a thousand tiny paper cuts nor does it mean I have cried about them either.
I have accepted what I could and done my best to just roll with whatever has come my way but that doesn’t provide me with much patience and the internal stores are almost all depleted.
That is probably why when the independently wealthy who had the good fortune to marry into money and or inherit very successful businesses made me so angry.
I couldn’t listen to them complain about hard lives because when money is the cure for what ails you and you have ample supply it is hard for me to feel badly.
It Is More Than Just Bad Timing
This post was going to be called Write Under The Write Conditions and it was going to be about writing but I decided to save it.
Decided to save it because I want it to run when it has a chance to get a little more play and see a bit more sunshine than is likely to come at almost midnight on the Friday night of Thanksgiving weekend.
****
Got a bottle of Scotch and a new cellphone eyeballing me. Tempted to pour more than a snort, grab my headphones and phone and take a few quiet moments to do nothing.
But I promised to participate in the daily posting required of Naboplomo so I can’t stop for the drink or to grab that single piece of pumpkin pie that is taunting me from the refrigerator.
The Beatles are singing “Once there was a way to get back home” and I am thinking about how much I relate to that, but mostly in an optimistic way.
I wrote earlier this week or last about how I miss having a home. It is not because I am homeless because I am not now nor have I ever been such.
But I haven’t lived in a place that I though of as being mine in a long time. Every where I have been has been a stop on a way to something better. Maybe it is tied into the storm I wrote about here.
Frankly the hardest part about this particular storm isn’t the length as much as it is the dust it has stirred up. Got me thinking long and hard about multiple choices and decisions in ways that aren’t particularly helpful nor useful.
Got me wondering how I could have been stupid so many times, but when I take a deep breath it is clear that I wasn’t…most of the time.
There are one or two things where I can concede they weren’t the smartest choices but when I am fair to myself it is clear that some of the criticism is unfair.
I did the best I could given the information I had and some of what happened truly had nothing to do with me. I wasn’t responsible for deregulation or for the crash in 2008.
Wasn’t responsible for banks losing their minds or bosses who thought it was better to cut their employees compensation because it enabled them to maintain their lifestyles.
I could have taken a different path than I did and have. Could have walked a more common road and put myself in a position to have better handled the hard moments of this storm but I didn’t.
Didn’t become an attorney like I had intended or take some other positions that would have paid more than some of what I have done.
Spent most of my life doing things my way, even when I was going along with the crowd I was still doing it my way because it is all I know how to do/be.
There are moments when I remind myself that I am who I am by choice and that I am accountable for all that I have or don’t have. Moments where I accuse my ‘do things my way’ nature as being an excuse for being a fuck up but I don’t really believe I am.
Even when I am most frustrated, most upset and most nervous I never believe that.
I am just a storm walker searching for the eye of the storm. I have found it before and I’ll find it again.
When I do things will improve and life will be different than it is now.
But if I win the lottery, inherit mega millions or make it all on my own I hope I am never as jaded or as obnoxious as the people I heard the other night. I am sure they meant well but it just chapped my hide and the reason for it was more than just bad timing.
What Happens When You Get Bored With Blogging
There were three priests, five rabbis and a Buddhist monk and myself standing at the bar in Downtown Los Angeles. We were gathered for the Interfaith Social Media Smackdown and the bar made for a nice place to hang out in between sessions.
It might sound like an odd sort of combination to you, but social media is being used by everyone these days so it made sense for us to schedule a chance to talk about the most effective tools and platforms for the various clergymen to use to look after their respective flocks.
All of that made perfect sense to me. What I couldn’t reconcile was how my ex girlfriend had also dated not just one, but two of the priests. Of course back then the “fathers†hadn’t been pledged to god, but that wasn’t what threw me. What I couldn’t figure out was how I fit in the equation.
How did a nice Jewish girl turn two nice Catholic boys into priests and not have any impact upon me. During two years of dating I might have called out the lord’s name once or twice but it was never tied into a thought about becoming a rabbi.
The Post Really Starts Here
If you have made it this far I must confess that I made up the part about theInterfaith Social Media Smackdown and virtually everything that goes with it.
What I didn’t make up is having spent time in bars with some rabbis and that is because I have friends who are rabbis, but we are not going to talk about that now.
Rather we are going to spend a few moments talking about what happens when you get bored with blogging. It is far more common than many people might realize.
Causes
There are multiple causes for boredom in blogging but I would suspect that most of the time it happens for one of the following reasons:
- You don’t know why you are blogging and consequently you are sort of wandering around the blogosphere without much purpose.
- You have pigeonholed yourself into one niche and reached a point where you can’t come up with new material.
Blogging can be a grind. This is a marathon and not a sprint. The best and most successful bloggers are almost always those who able to sustain their efforts over the long haul.
When you lock yourself into only writing about one small niche and are afraid or unwilling to move from it you have to work harder to maintain your interest level. It doesn’t matter how much you love writing about the great woolly weevil and it’s exceptional weaving because sooner or later you’ll reach saturation and feel like you have said almost all there is to say.
Boredom Is Bad For Your Blog
Boredom is bad for your blog because it impacts your writing and your readers suffer. You won’t always hit a home run with every post but boredom will make it much harder to get a hit.
Part of the reason I mix things up here and get “creative†with headlines is because it helps prevent boredom and because I am ever curious to see what impact my words have.
Sometimes I stir it up just to see who responds to things like How To Use Your Oral Skills To Please Others. A while back I wrote a post called 69 Reasons Why Fathers Make Better Lovers and got a boatload of traffic and emails from it.
It was real engagement and many of the conversations were about social media. I found it to be interesting.
But Does It Add Value
I have to tell you I hate reading 1,933,432 posts about your content must always add value. You must always educate your reader or make them laugh, blah, blah, blah.
I hate it because it leads to sterile posts that have no passion or personality. Sometimes you have to shuck that aside and suggest that the reason the person you are writing about is so uptight is because they haven’t been laid properly in a decade.
Sometimes you need to ask your reader to imagine their grandparents having sex because you need to wake them up. It is not done to disgust them. It is done to make them wake up because they have just read 1,933,432 posts about how to be a better blogger and they are bored.
The Bottom Line
To me the bottom line is simple, have fun. If you have fun with blogging it will come out in your posts and your comments. This is a good thing.
People want to see your personality and to feel your passion. They like being around happy people. Any time you can make people smile and feel good you are providing value that is immeasurable and important.
And now I have to go think about writing more about the Interfaith Social Media Smackdown because that has real potential.