Category Archives: Jack Fisher’s Insights

How I Prepare For NFL Football On Sundays

It’s almost here! In less than 24 hours, I will enjoy my first of 17 doses of regular season NFL football. In a year where my excitement and optimism has been crushed at every turn, I can’t put into words how excited I am. I also can’t fully articulate how much I need this.

I love sports.

I love football.

I love building my Sundays around watching NFL football.

It’s among my favorite regular joys. Now, I understand the NFL season will be different this year. There’s also a very real chance that the pandemic could significantly impact the season. I’m already bracing for games to be cancelled, players to be benched, and scandals to unfold. If it gets really bad, there’s certainly a possibility that an entire week of NFL games could be scrapped.

That’s a nightmare scenario that the NFL has many reasons to avoid. I’m not convinced they will, but at the moment, they’re scheduled to start the season on time, albeit without full stadiums. For me, that’s good enough.

In that spirit, I’d like to share some details as to what I do every Sunday to maximize my NFL experience. Sometimes, I do mix it up, but I have a few favorite rituals that I’ve refined over the years to ensure I achieve football nirvana every time.

It all starts early on Sunday morning. I’m an early riser by nature so I’m usually up around sunrise. It usually starts like most days. I check my email. I brew some coffee. I go through any and all unfinished work I might have, be it a blog post, a short story, or a video for my YouTube channel.

Then, I go for my daily run. I always make it a point to run a little extra long on Sundays. You’ll understand why very soon. If possible, I try to squeeze in some weightlifting. That’s not always an option. In a year like this, I may have to table that.

After I work out, I take a nice long shower. I usually shave afterwards, if my beard has become unruly. Once I’m done with that, I throw on some clothes and head out to get my groceries/football supplies.

I usually try to time it so that I leave at around noon. While I’m getting my groceries, I order a pizza, usually a large with extra cheese, bacon, and pepperoni. I also make sure I get a six pack of beer, if I don’t have one in the fridge already. If everything goes smoothly, I’m usually on my way home with about 15 minutes to spare.

With those 15 minutes, I put on my most comfortable pair of pants and my favorite football jersey. I then turn on NFL Redzone, grab a beer, serve myself a slice of pizza, and take my place on the couch.

Once the action starts, I rarely leave that couch, aside from bathroom breaks and beer. For the next seven hours, I am locked in. Most of the time, I keep the TV on Redzone, but if there’s a major game on one of the networks, I’ll flip to that one every now and then.

During that time, I am the most relaxed and content person you’ll ever going to see. The feeling of watching NFL football all Sunday while drinking beer and eating pizza is just the ultimate way to cap the weekend. It’s glorious. It’s joyous. Sure, I’ll yell at the TV every now and then, but I’ll have a damn good time every step of the way.

When all is said and done, that pizza is usually half-eaten. Most of that six pack of beer is long gone. I’m full, a little drunk, and utterly satisfied with all the football I’ve consumed. This weekend, I look forward to enjoying that feeling once more. I encourage my fellow football fans out there to do the same, especially for a year like this. If you have your own Sunday ritual for NFL football, please share it in the comments. I’d love to know. I’m certainly open to new ideas for making Sunday football even better. For now, I am ready for kickoff!

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Filed under football, Jack Fisher's Insights, sports

A New Writing Method I’m Trying (And Not Sure About)

I know it’s been a while since I’ve talked about my various writing projects. There is a reason for that. I won’t say it’s a good reason, but there is a reason. I still have a number of manuscripts that I hope to get published one day. I also keep reaching out to agents and publishers in hopes of publishing another novel.

To date, I’ve only gotten responses from scammers and grifters. Seriously, if anyone claims they can make your book a best seller for the low price of $1,200, delete that email or hang up on them. They’re lying.

While I am discouraged and have since stopped making sexy short stories, I’m still writing every day. I still have ideas I want to flesh out. I’m still trying to refine my craft. I treat every project as an opportunity to improve and I try to take it.

However, lately I’ve been finding it difficult to write at the same rate and efficiency as I did years ago. It used to be I could write a good 5,000 words with ease and still have time for class in college. Now, I’m lucky if I can get 2,000 words out. Again, there’s a reason for that.

Looking back on it, those 5,000 words I mentioned weren’t exactly quality work. In fact, it would take me almost as much time to edit or revise those words as it would to write them out. Quality beats quantity in writing 99 times out of 100. That’s a lesson I’ve learned the hard way and come to appreciate.

These days, the slow pace of my writing has less to do with how fast I can type and more to do with me wanting it to sound just right. The narration has to be good. The dialog has to be solid. It has to work on multiple levels and that’s really slowing me down. I’m doing less editing and revising on the back end, but it’s still frustrating at times.

As a result, I decided to take a step back recently and adjust my approach. In doing so, I realized something critical in my writing. The part that slows me down the most, to the point of stalling, is writing dialog. For most writers, that’s not surprising. Writing dialog is one of the hardest things to do in any novel, script, or play. Whenever I seek out writing tips, I tend to gravitate most towards those focusing on dialog.

Again, some of that has to do with quality over quantity. I try to give each character a voice. I try to make the conversation feel realistic, but memorable and witty. That is not easy to do and, if I’m being honest, I neglected that in the past. When I read over my old work, I see how little thought I put into the dialog. At times, most of the characters just sounded the same. They were just there to play a role.

I’m trying to avoid that. I’m trying to improve, as well. I also want to be efficient. I know that’s asking for a lot, but I think there’s a balance to be struck. Right now, I do not have that balance. So, after assessing what I’ve done and how to move forward, I’ve decided to try this new approach.

In the past, I simply went from start to finish with each chapter, going word for word between narration and dialog. It was simple and probably the way most people approach writing. Now, here’s what I want to do.

For each chapter of each story, I start with a script. I focus entirely on the dialog between the characters. There’s no prose or narration in between. I write out the conversations first. I add the details and structure later. In essence, this is what it looks like.

NARRATION

Character 1: Dialog

Character 2: Dialog

Character 1: Dialog

Character 3: Dialog

Character 1: Dialog

NARRATION

Character 1: Dialog

I’m going to try and use this on my next project. I don’t know how well it will work, but it’s something I’d like to try. I feel like the way I’m doing things now is just too inefficient. There’s always a better way to do something and I’m going to try this and see where it leads me.

In the meantime, has anyone else ever attempted something like this? Has anyone ever written out a chapter or book in a non-linear fashion? If so, what has been your experience? Did you find it helpful? Did it make your writing better and more efficient?

I’d love to know. Please share your experience in the comments. If you have other tips or approaches you’d like to share, please do so. I’d be happy to listen.

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A Personal (And Mildly Painful) Story About A Fond Summer Memory

This has been a bittersweet summer, to say the least. This might be the first summer since college where I haven’t been able to go on a real, actual vacation. It’s disappointing and distressing. I badly want to go to the beach, hit up a beach bar, or just visit some friends or relatives out of state. I haven’t been able to do any of that this year, due to the goddamn pandemic.

However, I don’t just want to lament at how this has been a lost summer. I like to think I’ve made the most of it, despite being stuck at home for the most part. There are ways to enjoy summer without going to the beach. They aren’t always as fun or fulfilling, but they still work.

In lieu of bemoaning my lack of vacation travels this summer, I thought I’d share a brief personal story. It’s not entirely pleasant, but it’s not overly awful either. It’s just one of those memories that stands out more than most and for reasons that are sure to become abundantly clear. It involves the beach, sunburn, and how a simple oversight can cause plenty of discomfort.

This particular memory takes place a number of years ago around the 4th of July. That year, I decided to head up to the beach to celebrate the holiday weekend. The weather was perfect. The food was as delicious as it was unhealthy. There were no masks, social distancing, or angry fights that broke out when someone sneezed. Good times, indeed.

Needless to say, I was looking forward to a relaxing trip. On my first full day there, I was set to spend most of the day out on the sand with my dad. Since it was sunny and over 90 degrees out, we both made it a point to go heavy on sunscreen. For me, that’s somewhat challenging. I burn very easily and I’ve had many vacations undermined by nasty sunburns. At this point, though, I’d gotten pretty good at protecting myself.

On this day, I thought I did everything right. I lathered up as much as I could. I even used extra for good measure. I did not want to get burned. I wanted this trip to be memorable for all the right reasons. I thought I succeeded. The fact I smelled like a coconut for hours should’ve been proof of that.

Sadly, I was wrong.

I didn’t know it at the time, but there was one part of my body that I neglected. Trust me, it’s not the part your thinking. It was the top parts of my feet.

This may sound like a trivial oversight. Trust me, it isn’t and I had to learn that the hard way. I didn’t know it at the time, though. I just went about my day of surf, sand, and relaxation. My dad and I had an awesome time. We just lofted about without a care in the world, enjoying the summer sun at the beach. It was pure nirvana.

I only started to realize my oversight shortly after we got back. I realized the top parts of my feet were stinging. I wasn’t sure why until I kicked off my flip-flops. That’s when I saw it. A distinct pattern of red sunburn had formed all over the top of my feet. At the time, I just thought it was a mild inconvenience. I didn’t get burned anywhere else, so I thought I had avoided the worst.

Again, I was wrong.

It turns out that getting sunburned on the top of your feet is one of the worst places to get it. It’s not just that it makes wearing socks and shoes a lot more painful. The simple act of taking a shower, stretching your legs, or sleeping under the covers at night became a test in pain tolerance. At least on your back and arms, you can apply ointment or creams to alleviate the pain. It’s not as easy on your feet.

I won’t say this ruined my trip. I still had fun. It just complicated it. I had to be a lot more careful when it came to putting on socks and wearing flip-flops. I had to take lukewarm showers for a while. I also couldn’t go in any hot tubs. It was a bummer, but I got through it.

Thankfully, the pain only lingered for a few days. However, once my skin started peeling, it made for some interesting challenges with laundry. I’m pretty sure I had to throw away at least three pairs of socks after that trip. It was not a pleasant experience, but it did teach me a valuable lesson.

When it comes to applying sunscreen, do not skip the tops of your feet. You do not want to get burned there.

For those lucky enough to still have access to a beach, I hope you heed this advice. For those stuck in place, like me, try to remember it when this crisis is finally over. Next summer, we’ll have a chance to make up for all the time we’ve lost this year. Just be careful. You don’t want to get burned in the wrong place.

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Going Back To The Gym: Relief And Realizations

I missed going to the gym.

Those are words my teenage self never thought I’d say, write, or think. That makes them all the more satisfying to say in the past tense.

This global pandemic has ruined a lot of things and disrupted a lot of lives. It’s also not done. It’s definitely going to get worse before it gets better. Many of us are already feeling nostalgic for a time when we didn’t have to wear masks, could go to a movie theater, and went out to eat on a whim. That was only four months ago. Let that sink in.

Coincidentally, that was also the last time I went to the gym before this week. Back in early March, I was told by the gym manager, who knows me very well after going twice a week for nearly a decade, that the gym was closing indefinitely. I thought it was only temporary. I’d hoped to be back in a few weeks. Weeks turned to months. We all know what happened during that time.

I was starting to lose hope. I still made an effort to stay in shape. If anything, I became more motivated. Being healthy during a pandemic is an objectively good idea. However, that wasn’t easy without the gym.

I don’t have a lot of exercise equipment of my own. My exercise routine was restricted to doing push-ups, sit-ups, and squats before running along the local trails. That definitely helped, but it wasn’t the same. Plus, I was at the mercy of the weather. If it was cold or rainy out, then I couldn’t do much.

It wasn’t the same and I felt it. I lost some muscle mass and gained some weight. It was frustrating, but that was the situation I had to deal with.

Finally, that changed this past week. I finally got word that my gym was re-opening, albeit to a limited extent. We can only go for hour-long chunks at a time and the capacity is severely restricted, but I can work within those constraints. After these past four months, I’m willing to jump through some extra hoops.

When I made it back, it wasn’t just a relief. It was cathartic. I almost forgot how satisfying it was to make it through a nice, rigorous workout. I also forgot how nice it was to have the luxury of doing something other than running in the blazing summer heat for cardio. I’ll never take that for granted again.

I also realized that I am definitely behind the curve. I still remember where I was, in terms of how many reps and sets I could do at a certain weight. When I tried to go back to where I was four months ago, my body did not cooperate. I had to turn the weight down to get through my sets. It was humbling. It also revealed that my efforts to duplicate the results of a gym were only partially successful, at best.

I know it sounds like I’m making a big deal about this, being able to go to a gym again. Believe me, if my younger self was reading this, he would’ve believed an impostor wrote this. However, the act of regaining part of my old routine, as trivial as it might be in the grand scheme of things, was nothing short of therapeutic.

The world is still in an awful, chaotic state. We’re nowhere close to being back to “normal,” as though that’s possible anymore. However, the fact that I can go back to the gym gives me hope that the effort, struggle, and persistence will pay off in the long run. We can’t regain the lives we lost, but we can push forward.

That will inspire me with future workouts. I hope it inspires others, especially those still living in a state of lock-down. There is a light at the end of the tunnel. It is worth enduring. Just hang in there. Like a good workout, this kind of strain will only make you stronger in the long run.

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Filed under Current Events, exercise, health, Jack Fisher's Insights, psychology

Apologies For A Post That Did NOT Age Well

We all say, do, or write things that don’t age well and it’s not just because of cancel culture. Sometimes, you just do things that turn out to be dead wrong. It happens. It’s distressing, uncomfortable, and frustrating. It’s also unavoidable. We’re all fallible humans. We’re going to be wrong every now and then. It’s just a matter of degree.

To that end, I’d like to admit my own major error. I probably could’ve just casually ignored this, but I think it’s better that I confront this now rather than later. Back in late February, I wrote something about the coronavirus. Without getting into every detail on that piece, I’ll just say this. I was wrong. I was very, very wrong and I apologize.

For the full story and context, here’s a link and an excerpt.

A (Hopeful) Perspective On The Coronavirus

There’s another perspective worth considering when following the news of the coronavirus. Unlike the devastating plagues of the past, humanity has developed a decent infrastructure for medicine, technology, and research. Granted, it took us centuries of trial, error, and mass death and there’s still plenty of room for improvement, but that system is there. It’s better than nothing. Just ask Medieval Europe.

That system is already doing its job in combating the virus. Already, researchers at the University of Texas in Austin have mapped out critical portions of the virus. That sort of thing couldn’t have been done this quickly or at all just 30 years ago. This data is critical for the development of treatments and, ultimately, a vaccine.

The fact that this happened so quickly after the outbreak is something the news hasn’t reported on. Even if treatments develop and the virus is contained, as we’ve seen with other recent outbreaks, it probably won’t be a huge story within the ever-changing news cycle.

It almost seems quaint. I come off as so hopeful that this isn’t going to be a major issue. This isn’t going to utterly break the world and turn 2020 into a devolving mess of frustration, misery, and outrage. Usually, my optimism helps me navigate tough times, but optimism doesn’t do squat against a global pandemic.

This isn’t a renegade hashtag.

This isn’t some juicy celebrity scandal.

This isn’t even some horrific terrorist attack that brings out the best and worst and people.

Global pandemics are different. They don’t give a damn about politics, economic trends, social trends, or when baseball season is supposed to start. It’s a mindless disease and it’s killing us. Even at my most cynical, I never imagined it could cause this much suffering and death. Now, as a fresh spike in cases is starting to take hold, what I wrote in February only seems more foolish.

As such, I sincerely apologize. I was wrong. I had no idea it was going to get this bad. If you read that article and took comfort in it at the time, I’m very sorry.

I’m still trying to cling to some semblance of optimism. I do believe that this crisis, like many others before it, will pass. It’s just going to get a lot worse before it gets better.

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Filed under Current Events, Jack Fisher's Insights, media issues, technology

Recounting The Dumbest Injury I Ever Got

We all like showing off scars. It doesn’t matter how big they are. We still use them as a catalyst to tell stories about ourselves. I don’t always get it. It’s just one of those weird things people do to make them seem tougher and more badass than they really are.

It’s not just a man thing, either. Women do this too. They just tend to be more subtle about it.

I have my share of scars from lingering injuries over the years. Each one of them has a story behind it. Some are more painful than others. There are a few I’d rather not share. Instead, I’m going to share a different kind of story about bodily injuries. Specifically, I’m going to tell the story about the dumbest injury I ever got.

It left no badass scar.

It didn’t make me tougher or stronger.

It was just a stupid fluke of an injury that taught me how hilariously frail the human body can be. More than anything else, I hope this story makes you laugh and appreciate the less foolish injuries we endure.

This particular injury occurred when I was playing little league baseball. For a time, it was a spring tradition. My dad would sign me up for little league and we’d build our weeks around it. For the most part, it was great. I loved baseball. I loved playing. I won’t say I was that good, but I certainly wasn’t that bad, either. I had fun, for the most part.

Like with any sport, you’re bound to get a few injuries here and there. I’d endured a few in that time. It was nothing I couldn’t handle. It was nothing that left a scar, either. I got lucky, compared to some of my teammates.

That changed one fateful day at practice. I think I was in the 4th or 5th grade at the time. I wasn’t doing very well that day. I don’t know why. My game was just off. I wasn’t hustling as much as I usual. I was content to just get through practice and prepare for the game.

Then, during fielding drills, the coach hits a ball my way while I’m playing outfield. Rather than glove it, I reach down to pick up the ball so that I can make a play at third base. In doing so, I badly jam my middle finger right against the ball.

It was the flukiest of fluke plays. I reached in and hit the ball with my finger at just the right angle to do some damage. I felt that damage too because I immediately whined about it. I still tried to shake it off, but by the end of practice, my middle finger was noticeably bruised. Part of it also started swelling. By the next day, my finger looked like it got stung by multiple bees.

It hurt like hell. On top of that, it was the same hand I used to write with. That made doing school work more painful than it already was. However, that wasn’t what made the injury so dumb. What truly made it stand out was that, for nearly a week, I could not bend my middle finger.

That meant that, for reasons beyond my control, it looked like I was giving everyone the finger. It was funny at times, but it hurt so much at the time that I don’t remember laughing much. I didn’t need a splint or anything. I just had to wait for it to heal. That was a long wait and there were plenty of embarrassing moments in between, especially at school.

I’m sure my parents remember some of those moments. I complained to them a lot and the best anyone could offer was a bag of ice. It was a miserable time, to say the least. I almost preferred a more serious injury. That would’ve made for a better story to tell. You just can’t tell a great story about picking up a baseball awkwardly and jamming your finger.

It did eventually heal. I did eventually go back to playing little league. I was just a lot more careful when it came to fielding ground balls. I endured more injuries over that time, but none were quite as dumb as that.

If you’ve got a dumber injury you’d like to share, please do so in the comments. Let’s not pretend every injury is epic. We’re all fallible human beings at the end of the day. We’re going to do stupid things and hurt ourselves in stupid ways. The best we can do is laugh about it and learn from it.

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A (Real) Story About Temptation, Peer Pressure, And Spicy Chicken Wings

I love spicy food. I make no secret of that. I’m the kind of guy who gets weird looks at a restaurant when I put buffalo sauce on potatoes. Some think it’s strange and a little unappetizing. I refuse to apologize for it.

As much as I love spicy food, I have my limits. There is such a thing as too spicy for me. I’ve had chicken wings dipped in sauce that caused me to run to the nearest sink and pour cold water on my head. I learned early on in my diet that there’s a fine line between spicy food and devil spit. I’ve since become quite capable at walking that line whenever I order chicken wings.

I’m glad I did because when it comes to spicy food, you don’t want to learn the hard way how hot it can get. While there are real methods for gauging the spiciness of a food, namely the Scoville Scale, there’s only so much numbers can tell you. For some people, the dangers of using a sauce that measures 1,000,000 Scoville units just doesn’t register.

Those people are destined to learn the hard way how much spice they can handle. As it just so happens, I have a story about one of those people that I’d like to share.

With summer upon us and barbecue foods dominating our dishes, I think the time is right for a quick reminder of what happens when spicy foods go too far. It was also around this time of year that a former co-worker of mine learned just how far it can go and paid the price.

To set the stage, this happened at one of my first jobs out of college. I’d been at this company for about a year or so. I’d made some good connections and quality friends. One of them was a fun-loving guy who I’ll call Derek, out of respect for his privacy. When you see how this story plays out, you’ll appreciate that.

Derek was a lot more extroverted than me. I was still coming out of my social awkwardness shell from high school. This guy, who was also fresh out of college, just loved hanging out and connecting with people. He frequently led other co-workers to nearby restaurants for beers and wings after long days at the office. Sometimes, I attended. Most of the time, I didn’t.

As it just so happens, one of the nearest restaurants to the office I worked at was a well-known buffalo wing place. Like many wing places, they had a broad selection of spicy wings to choose from. One, in particular, was so hot that you had to sign a waiver before ordering it. They called it the Widowmaker. It was said to use the infamous Ghost Peppers in its sauce, but the specifics were a well-kept secret.

I can’t remember too many people who dared to try it. For reasons that are still the stuff of legend, Derek decided to take the plunge one fateful evening after a long day at the office. I can’t get into too many specifics. I’ll just say that there was a considerable amount of beer and peer pressure involved.

To the credit, and chagrin, of my co-workers, they cheered him on. They offered to pay for the entire tab that night if he took up the challenge. It took surprisingly little convincing. Derek wasn’t even that drunk. He’d had only one beer at that point. He still signed the waiver and ordered the Widowmaker.

He was excited.

He was determined.

He claimed he could handle spicy foods better than most.

He would come to regret that boast.

When the Widowmaker wings came out, he was so confident. He looked like he was ready to take on the heavyweight champ in a boxing match. My co-workers were still cheering. He prepared himself mentally. It was a tense moment for everyone involved. He wanted to go down in history as one of the select few who’d finished those wings.

Then, he took his first big bite and swallowed quickly. It turned out to be his last of the evening.

The details after this get a bit fuzzy, but he went from determined to defeated in the blink of an eye. One second, he had the eye of the tiger. The next, it looked like he’d been punched in the jaw, gut, and balls by Mike Tyson on crack. He keeled over, started coughing, and started chugging ice water by the gallon.

Some laughed. Others cringed. A few had to help him to the bathroom so he could wipe the sweat and snot from his face. Needless to say, we all figured out why the restaurant demanded that people sign a waiver.

Derek didn’t come into work the next day. He claimed he needed a sick day. I think his pride was the only thing seriously ill after that experience. He also claimed that he had to stay within 10 feet of a toilet for the day. I don’t doubt him.

When he did come back, he was in good spirits. My co-workers did apologize profusely for goading him into eating the Widowmaker, but he just smiled and accepted. I think in hindsight, it was a humbling experience for him. It’s the kind of experience I think we all need at some point in our lives. Some are just more painful than others. This was one of them.

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My Father’s Day Tribute To My Awesome Dad

D9

The following is a brief tribute video that I made to honor my awesome dad on the eve of Father’s Day. It also includes a brief story that helps convey just how awesome he is. For all the other awesome dads out there who deserve to celebrate tomorrow, this is for you too.

To my awesome dad, Happy Father’s Day!

I love you man.

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Musings (And Struggles) On Men’s Hair Care Products

Take a deep breath because I’m a straight man who’s about to talk about his hair. Under most circumstances, that’s usually an invitation for all sorts of odd looks. However, with a global pandemic closing barbershops and hair salons nationwide, I think it’s safe to say the circumstances are unique. Even with some places opening up again, it’s not exactly as easy as walking in and asking for the next available stylist.

I’ll say what I’m sure everyone has at least thought to themselves at some point these past few months. I miss my barber. I miss getting a nice, competent haircut. I’ve spent the last couple months cutting my hair with a pair of cheap clippers. I’ve since come to appreciate the art and skill that goes into cutting hair. The next time I visit my barbershop, I intend to leave an extra-generous tip.

In the meantime, there’s one other issue that a lack of barbershops has revealed to me. It’s actually an issue that I’ve tried to avoid for years. It involves hair gel and the unique way my hair reacts to it. Specifically, it rarely reacts in a way that seems attractive or polished. I don’t know if that’s just a unique trait of my hair or if I’m using it wrong, but it doesn’t seem to work for me.

There was a brief time in my youth when I regularly used hair gel to slick my hair back. I thought it made me look good. For the most part, it was a way of compensating for having thick glasses and an acne problem. I figured that I couldn’t fix some of my facial flaws, but I could manage others. I don’t think my logic was wrong, but I’m fairly certain it backfired.

I’m also fairly certain I messed up my hair for years. I don’t think I succeeded in making myself more attractive, either. Every product I used had the same effect. It made my hair look like I’d styled it with glue. It became dry, stiff, and weird looking. You could tell there was something in my hair and it wasn’t natural. While most products had a pleasant smell, some were so bad that people made faces when they got too close.

Some of that might have been due to me using too much, but even when I used a little, it rarely made a difference. My hair still felt like I’d been on the receiving end of a bad frat prank. Eventually, I got so frustrated that I just stopped using all hair products that weren’t shampoo. Even when I grew my hair out in college, I didn’t do much to style it.

That was fine for college. That was even fine for post-college professional life. As long as I got a regular haircut, I could get away with just slicking my hair back with water and letting it style itself naturally. I got away with it for years, so much so that I barely thought about it.

Then, the pandemic hit and all the barbershops closed.

Suddenly, I have to give my hair more scrutiny than usual. Beyond just cutting it myself, I’ve also had to test out some new hair gels to make it look at least semi-kempt. Just like before, the results have been limited. Some of that is probably because I cut my hair so short and so unevenly that it’s hard to style. At the same time, I’m positive there’s room for improvement.

At the moment, I’m using this styling gel that a relative recommended for me. It’s working to the extent that I can make my hair look decent. When I’m using it, you can’t tell from a distance that I haven’t had a haircut in nearly five months. It still makes my hair feel dry and crusty, but it’s manageable. It’s probably the best I can do for now.

I’m not sure how much longer I’ll keep using this gel. Hopefully, once the barbershops open again, my hair can go back to being a secondary concern. While cutting my own hair and having to make it look decent has been an adventure, I still miss my barber. I miss not looking like a failed punk rocker in the morning.

I know it’s a minor concern in the context of a pandemic, but it’s one of those things you realized you took for granted. Rest assured, I won’t take my barber for granted anytime soon. In the meantime, if anyone has more advice on hair care for men without barbers, I’d love to hear it. Please share your tips and recommendations in the comments.

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Filed under Jack Fisher's Insights, men's issues

My YouTube Experience Thus Far (And Tentative Plans)

It’s been a week since I started my YouTube channel, Jack’s World. I feel inclined to provide a little insight because so far, the experience has exceeded my expectations and in a good way.

Since the beginning of this year, I’ve been looking to mix things up in terms of my creative outlet. I’ve always sought out that kind of outlet, going all the way back to high school. It’s a big part of who I am. I started this website in hopes of furthering my work as an aspiring writer. While it did help in getting a couple books published on a small scale, it didn’t lead to a whole lot more.

The more I’ve looked into it, the more it feels like the publishing world is inaccessible to someone like me. Over the past couple years, it feels like my window to break into it has closed. Finding an agent or a publisher just isn’t a viable route anymore. Even old sources like Writers Market have lost relevance.

In short, the publishing market is just so different right now and I have no idea how to navigate it. I don’t know that I have the time or energy to learn that world. I still have a bunch of unpublished manuscripts that I’d like to share one day, but I’m genuinely unsure of how to go about turning them into a tangible product.

Writing sexy short stories offered a nice outlet for a while as well, but the audience for that dried up as well. The reason I scaled back my efforts on this site earlier this year is because I felt the effort I put into it wasn’t matching what I got out of it. At the same time, I wanted to find another method for reaching an audience and building a brand.

Already, I feel like I can do that with YouTube.

On top of that, I’ve genuinely enjoyed the video-making process. I’m certainly no expert. In fact, I freely admit the quality of my work is amateur at best. I do not use professional-grade software. I use Movie Maker, a free program that came with my computer. I use a free sound editor called WavePad to edit the audio. The music is mostly royalty-free stuff provided by YouTube Studios.

My work is nowhere close to the quality that you see from experienced YouTubers or professionals, but none-the-less, I still like it. I want to learn more. I want to get better at this. I genuinely enjoy sharing my voice with the world in my own little medium.

If I can get an audience and grow it, I may even invest in better software. I have friends and family members who work in professional environments who use high-end software. They’ve already made recommendations. If I continue enjoying this YouTube process, then I’ll gladly invest.

What does this mean for this website?

What does this mean for my writing?

I honestly don’t know. My plan, at the moment, is to put more energy into making videos. That likely means less energy for this website. I don’t know what that means for my weekly comic reviews or Sexy Sunday Thoughts. It depends on how much of an audience I can find on YouTube. Only time will tell.

Until then, I encourage those who enjoy this site to keep an eye on Jack’s World. If all goes well, it will become the primary hub from which I share my work with the world.

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Filed under Jack Fisher's Insights, Jack's World, YouTube