Homecoming

Well, Jack is back, and sporting a fresh fade.  I think it is supposed to make him look like a lion and cut down on the heat, but I am afraid it does neither.  He is simply a little disjointed looking -no flow over the whole body- and he still pants like me at a women's volleyball tournament.  

Of course I don't tell him this.  I, actually, didn't say anything about it.  I know how sensitive he can be about his looks.  I suppose it stems from his size.  You spend your whole life looking up to people, and it's hard not to think of them as looking down on you.  

All the more reason for me to resume the "man-up" training.  I think hi smother spoils him, so I try to help him get his self esteem up.  Help him learn to do "man things":  

1) shooting

2) drinking

3) auto-mechanics

4) cooking

5) crime fighting

6) drinking  

That is phase one actually.  Phase two is:

1) fighting

2) drinking

3) motorcycles

4) poetry

5) painting

6) hunting  

He is not ready for phase two.

Take last weekend for example.  

I finally got the time and money to put a bicycle together.  My boss/associate/professor/friend Scott gave me a frame and most of the components to a really good road bike in addition to the tools and technical expertise.  So, I went out and spent part of my school grant money (I get grants for being either really cool or really poor) on the missing pieces and a case of beer, and Jack and I went to the shop.

I am worried about Jack.  Not only did he not really dig the bicycle build up, but he complained the entire time about not having any fun.  How could he not have fun?  I offered to let him use the table saw or the lathe, but, no, he didn't want to.  I let him listen to XRT, but nothing good was on.  It was crazy.  In a shop where he could have done anything, he did nothing.  I built a bike.  Thinking back to the earlier list, I think Jack needs to work on his mechanical skills.

Oh, and when my friend broke into my apartment via the kitchen window, all Jack did was look up and then snuggle closer to me.  I'm pretty sure my reaction of simply walking toward the unknown perp. in nothing but a blanket with a confused look on my face was better than going back to sleep.  So much for crime fighting.  Maybe I should take him to some dark alleys around town (last time we just drank with some homeless guy, who was really nice) and try to look vulnerable.  That may work: a six three, two-hundred pound white guy walking a Tibetan Wolfhound through a dark alley saying things like, "Gosh Jack, I hope nobody mugs us and takes the huge roll of bills."

Anyway, I am glad Jack is back, and all of the feed back on the blog has been positive.  Don't hesitate to respond via post.  Adios. 

submissive

Jack is on vacation this week, spending some quality time with his family, and no doubt enjoying a serious pampering.  I am left to unpack and set up the adventure headquarters.  So, there were no real adventures this week.  I did some wild partying in Pekin, and spent some time with my own family, but this isn't about me.   Jack is having a good time, I'm sure, and I did get info on a new haircut, so we will have to see when he gets back.  

In the meantime, I wanted to ask that I get some comments.  I know there are quite a few of you who read this, and I know that several wish to remain anonymous -either for personal or legal reasons- and that is fine.  However, like Will did, you can simply go in and anonymously post and sign whatever name you want.  It would make Jack feel better if he saw that other people were reading this.   

Drill

Jack can't help that he's pretty.

It's not really a bad thing, but still, he can't help it.  It's a problem many of us face -if, like Jack and I, you are really good looking- where people force some idea on you.  As if what I look like is any indication of who I am.  For Jack, it's an issue of gender, where as most people think I am just a good looking playboy.

I don't know how many times people have to be told that it's a male dog.   No: I don't care what he looks like or what you thought.  Jack is a male.  

Anyway, I digress....

I wanted to write about Jack and my recent trip and our more important move.  That's right: we have a new address.  We were there for all of fifteen minutes before we left, but have now spent a night there and have found it acceptable.  Jack doesn't care much for the height of the ceilings (14ft) and the new floor (no traction when he practices his kung-fu), but he thinks it's funny that I am il-equipped to live alone.  Yesterday he was helping me put in the fridge and stove (just like camping and hobo-ing: first thing to do is set up the kitchen) and he couldn't believe I didn't own a broom, trash can, or basic cleaning utensils.  He also found it funny that a guy who spends hours in the bathtub wouldn't have a shower curtain.  

Still, it is a good place.    Last night we got a huge storm and had no issue with water coming in through the windows. Both Jack and I love to watch storms, which is cool cause the one we had last night couldn't have been ignored.   

Over the weekend I took Jack down to meet my extended family and leave him there while I did my military thing.  It was a good drill, and when I returned Saturday, Jack was having fun with my family.  The kids all love to play with him, and he loves to run.  It was a good time: little sleep, good company, and an early day.   

The trip home was a good one for Jack to experience: we left late and slept on a wayside for a couple of hours.  A hot night, but sleep overtook us.  I needed the rest, and spent the brief break in the arms of a beautiful girl, soft with dark hair, before I was awakened to the panting of my sidekick.  He was ready to go, and while I wanted no more than to return to the arms of my dream lover, a quick check showed we were only an hour or so from sunrise and a new day. Back on the road.  Jack went back to sleep, and I let the memory of her fade.  

I should have gotten her name, but I think I may know her...