Mute Monday: Summer

Out Of Order

Garden Party, Bobness Style

Lately it's been all the rage for blogger's to share their gardening prowess. I'm not much of a plant person, but those of you who are have some great places and lots of talent. Not wanting to be left out, I've snapped some photos for everyone to see the beauty of my surroundings too:

This is my front door.
This is where Joe Tran hangs his advertisements.

This is my only fan.

This is my patio.
No BBQ grills are allowed.

Inside my refrigerator.
That's chicken on the middle shelf defrosting.

My Bob The Builder Alarm Clock.

White-Recycle, Green-Trash.

This is my bed.
Now I'm not the only person to have ever seen it.

There you have it... the Eden that I've created for myself. Enjoy.

Comcast... It's Craptastic

I discovered this lovely door hanger this morning on my way out the door for another shitty day at work. I guess I now know who was knocking on my door last night at 7:00pm, my new close friend Joe Tran. As you can guess, I didn't bother answering the door last night when he made a personal appearance. No one visits here but me and the pizza delivery person.

You can tell Joe knows me really well, calling me Robert when the rest of the English speaking world refers to me as Bob. It looks like he also "needs to talk to you (me)" about the wonders of Comcast. Not that Joe would like to talk or wants to tell me about Comcast, he NEEDS to talk to me. Well, you don't always get what you want, and in this case you don't get what you NEED either Joe.

Joe obviously got my name from Comcast to personalize this invitation. The doorknob across the hall had just a generic hanger. Therefore Comcast should know I already subscribe to two of the three services listed. They get plenty of my money (more than they deserve) every month. An in-home visit from big Joe with some unbelievable, ultra-low introductory rate to bundle all three services wasn't going to help. Especially when the ass-hat shows up at my home at 7:00pm while I'm trying to enjoy the Comcast services for which I'm already paying.

I'd like to give Joe a call back and invite him over for conversation. I've got a few questions/comments for him:
1) I worked for a subsidiary of Comcast for seven years. I know what services they provide.
2) Who authorized a visit to my residence? And when did this annoying marketing plan get instituted?
3) Does Comcast think I've ignored the incessant television commercials and weekly emails touting this same exact offer?
4) Does Comcast think I was able to avoid seeing this offer included with the monthly bill they mail me and on the website that I use to electronically pay said bill?
5) How do you (Joe) have the nerve interrupting people's lives at 7:00pm with this crap? People work hard all day to pay their Comcast bill and utilize those services when they get home.
6) Finally, I've chosen to be loyal to the company that signed my paycheck in the past. If I had any viable option to replace Comcast for these two services I would be doing it right now. That is how obnoxious and unacceptable I find this form of advertising... especially to current customers.

Comcast, it's Craptastic.

The Day Laughter Died

Photo Courtesy: Official George Carlin Website

A Matter of Balance

It's a day to day struggle with balance when you live with depression, even with the relatively low-grade dysthymia that I have. Today has been a battle to keep the scales level, sometimes feeling like they're going to tilt over to the downward side of stability. There are chances that I choose to take, positions that I put myself into which I know may lead to the place I'm in right now. It's never an easy decision to make, whether to charge forward into the battle or to stay in the foxhole and the safety it brings. I weigh the good with the bad, the risk versus the reward, and roll the dice on whether the bullet is going to hit me hard, just graze me, or miss me entirely.

Saturday night and the resulting backlash illustrate this melee of the mind that goes on all too frequently. I went to go see O.A.R. in concert in San Francisco. It was almost like a mini-vacation; getting away from home, seeing the show, and staying in the city overnight at a somewhat nice hotel. But actually going to the concert was the dicey proposition. Concerts are social gatherings, places for groups of people to get together to be entertained and have fun. Those situations put me in an awkward place and fire the first shot in the war. It's difficult for me being around couples and groups, having to ward off the social anxiety of going solo. You would think having done it my whole life it would be no big deal, but it never gets any easier. I concentrated on the music which helped a great deal by narrowing the focus and blocking out the other 1,000 or so people. It's the rebound down afterward that's the bullet in the air. The feelings of anxiety, knowing I've always been a group of one and always will be, creep into the mind. Those feelings go to work gathering their troops, their favorites being insecurity and worthlessness, and begin their assault on my brain. Social gatherings are a constant reminder that I won't have what most people enjoy. I avoid them as much as possible, picking and choosing ones which may offer the greatest value for the least trauma.

So right now, I labor to bring the scale into equilibrium. Trying to find a way to fend off the negative thoughts and feelings, I'll retreat into my foxhole once again. I'll find solitary things to do like reading or crossword puzzles which if chosen correctly won't involve any references to couples. If you don't see me commenting a whole lot on your posts, hopefully you'll understand. It's tough to decide if this concert was a good idea or not, whether hearing the band was enough of a positive to outweigh the resulting anxiety and angst. As I write this, I think I only got grazed by the bullet and might be fine after awhile. If it hit me harder, then I can expect The Fog to roll in to overcome me. Balance is a delicate matter.

Mute Monday: AROMA

101... it's a highway and temperature

My Saturday started by not having any milk for my coffee. I had a brain fart on the way home last night due to the oppressive heat and forgot to buy some. Why the hell was I drinking coffee anyway? I got up at 8:30am (weekend... sleeping in!) and it was already 80 degrees. No biggie, I can handle my coffee black from time to time so I'll deal with it. I buzz through the newspaper crossword puzzle, check my emails, peruse CNN to make sure the world hasn't come to an end (not yet), scan through the Google reader for any interesting tidbits (ooh, MJ is still insane), and by the time 10:30am rolls around, it's up to 91 degrees and I swear the walls are starting to melt. Looks like triple digits again in the South Bay.

Finally off my sweaty buttocks and off to run errands. Run is not the right word as only crazed health nuts and serial criminals run in 90+ degree weather. Anyway, first stop is a haircut. Hot weather = short hair. My normal stylist (if you can call anyone working at Supercuts a stylist) isn't working so I have to try someone else. How dare she go off and get all preggers anyway without consulting me. I know new girl isn't working with a great model, but the haircut ends up being below marginal at best. Looks like ballcaps for the next two weeks until it fills out. Next stop the dreaded gas station where I get the privlege of waiting 10 minutes in line to pay $4.5699 a gallon. $40.15 later (as it's impossible to stop it on an even number when it's moving that fast) the needle barely creeps past 1/2 tank. It hasn't been a good start to the day.

But do I care? Hell to the no!!! Look at this baby..... air conditioning. That's right, the thermostat says 70 degrees. I'm going to get it so cold in this hotel room that I'll be able to see my own breath and a side of beef wouldn't defrost. I plan on getting every cent out of this room rate if I have to do it by draining the Bay Area power supply to keep the a/c cranking. Bless you Conrad Hilton for climate controlled hotels. It's fantastic enough to forgive you for your skank whore herpes infested great-granddaughter. I'll even overlook the $15.00 room charge for high-speed internet even with my 50,000+ priority points. I know how much my peeps depend on my blog for life-giving entertainment so I'll make the sacrifice. O.A.R. tonight at The Fillmore... it should be a great show. And when I get back from the show I expect to see frost on the windows.

Chillin' in San Fran... wish you were here.
~Just Bob~

Too Hot to Blog

It's too hot to think
It's too hot to type
The Essence of Bobness right now is a sweaty, dripping lump of raging B.O.

Global warming is not a myth.

Think I'll jump into the oven to cool off.

Regular programming will return tomorrow from a delightfully cold hotel room in San Fran before the O.A.R. concert.

In Six Words: a meme

Jennifer from the blog Writing to Survive, tagged me with this meme. The task is to write your memoir in six words:

Always alone, working and three putting

That kind of says it all. The two biggest non-family things in my life are working and golfing. I've been alone all of my adult life, so that was a no-brainer and had to occupy at least two words. I could take out "and" replacing it with another activity, but there really isn't one that I'd put on the same level of significance as work and golf.

Now, who to tag with this daunting task? I won't tag Blottie as she's not supposed to be blogging, so here are my five:

Random Chick
Taj Wanders
What Do The Voices Mean
Anonymous Boxer
The Creative Works of My Mind

Me Love You Long Time...

Alrighty folks, come with me to the mysterious Far East and settle into your movie seat. We travel to the Orient to examine the throbbing, exploding trend of Japanese elder porn. A Time Magazine article today probes the story of Shigeo Tokuda, a 74 year old Japanese man who has thrust himself into Japan's porn spotlight. His full body of work shows a rising performer, inserting himself into 350 movies over the past 14 years. According to the article, some of Tokuda's more arousing films are Maniac Training of Lolitas and Forbidden Elderly Care.

Banging away at traditional porn, the production company Glory Quest claims the only way for them to surge past their competition is to forcefully enter the elderly crack in the market. Sagging and limp sales have led Japanese porn retail giants Tsutaya and DMM to pump up to between 20% and 30% of their releases as "mature men or women" films. Ruby, Inc. director Ryuichi Kadowaki offered his rigid position on the genre's success by stating his feelings that sales for traditional younger porn come in short spurts while elderly porn has slow, steady and building followings.

Sleep easy America, Kobe Tai won't have to retire anytime soon. Taking a big load of talent with her, she can easily work another 40 years in the industry. About that time good ole Shigeo Tokuda will be about 114 years old and might be ready to finish shooting his film career with a spry, young 70-something Kobe Tai.

That's it folks... your news break for the day. Check your Netflix and Blockbuster accounts for up and coming releases from the Orient.

The First Blottie Award

It's certainly not an original idea, but I can't always be expected to be the fountain of innovation! I've got a ton on my plate right now... from solving the tensions in the Middle East, to engineering a car that runs on urine, to surfing the internets for Canadian midget porn I'm a busy, busy man. Time waits for no one, especially when you're bogged down during an uber-slow download of "RCMP's - Randy Canadian Midget Police." Think of it as an XXX rated (or should that be xxx?) Reno 911 for north of the border little people and MJ.

But I digress. I come to introduce yet another web award to the blogosphere. Therefore, I now unveil to the world the "Blottie Award." I arrived at the term Blottie from a combination of "blogger" and "hottie." Hence, those are the initial qualifications for eligibility... you must be a female blogger and exhibit hottie characteristics. So, you may ask what are hottie characteristics? Well, they are what I say they are and can change at a moment's notice. One day you're hot, the next you're not. Basically, whatever I'm cool with whenever doling out these esteemed awards. There are no swimsuit or talent competitions yet, but who knows what future years (and Bobness desperation) may bring. The Blottie casting couch gets delivered on Friday.


Ta-da!!! It's a beauty ain't it. And the moment you've all been waiting for.... the inaugural, first-ever, beginning, initial, starting, opening, introductory Blottie Award goes to Suzanne. Why Suzanne? Well someone had to be first and she said in a reply to me recently:

Thanks again for the kind words and being a "hottie" is kinda fun. I've never been one! I think there should be an award for that. Kinda like Random Chick's "Cool" award.

In addition, she's a sweetheart, a Californian, needs some good luck, and I'm #1A on her list if she ever ditches this Rob character she keeps droning on talking about. Now before y'all women get jealous about not getting a Blottie, just remember this won't be the last and you never know when I'm going to be in the mood to bestow the honor on others. Therefore, I'd highly recommend that all the ladies be ever vigilant on their hottie-ness and be aware that the judge (me) can be highly persuadable with the right motivation.

So there you have it... join me in congratulating our first recipient Suzanne and let the games begin amongst the ladies for the next awarding of the coveted Blottie.

of a (music) revolution...

I just got back from a really great concert. OK, ignore the fact that I'm about 15 years too old to listen to O.A.R. I guess working on college campuses for the last 10 years has kept me from becoming an old fuddy-duddy young(er). I have been able to dodge the whole shitty rap thing, even though that's a lot of what the kids are listening to on their iPods. Part rock band, part jam band, I've liked O.A.R. since I first heard them live a few years ago. I've now seen them four times live, with number #5 coming this Saturday in San Francisco. The fans can get a little overzealous at some of the shows, but in general it's all good and nothing that a few hours to sober up wouldn't solve.

It was a highly interactive show. The audience got to vote on the set list live during the show, and through some inventive technology the band got to see the text messages coming from the audience and could respond to them between songs. It really was cool, and could be a hint at the future of live music. Bands interacting with their audiences, and the fans connecting back with the bands in real time. It's already reached the point where a fan can enter the arena for a show, pay $20 up front at the t-shirt stand and get a wristband, then at the end of the night take that wristband back and get a complete mp3 download of that night's show to take home with them. Instant gratification.

Time to fess up... I wasn't completely honest about getting back from the concert. I didn't have to go anywhere, except my patio. The band, supporting their new album, put on a two hour concert live on the internet. So sitting on my patio with raw meat searing on the grill, barley pops chilling in the cooler, and no connection other than a wireless card, I was able to watch the full concert from the comfort of my lawn chair. The music was crystal clear, and the video was almost as sharp as HDTV. I got to pick which camera angle I wanted to watch, and vote on which song I wanted to hear next. Heck, I even downloaded an autographed set-list after the show. (These were the songs the band played, not necessarily in the order listed.)

Now I don't think that live music will ever be replaced... and I certainly hope it isn't. There are too many good things about the live music experience that can't be replaced or duplicated to make concerts obsolete. You can hear the music and see the bands online, but you can't feel the music. Seriously, where else can you pay $9 for a 12 oz. warm beer, stand in line nine minutes to pee during intermission and enjoy every minute of it? Still, it was a pretty cool way to end a Monday (after skipping out of work early to get home in time for the show).

Mute Monday: Old Man

This is only one Old Man worthy of Note:



OLD KNUDSEN

Happy Moobs Day

The call that never comes

The line is always open, but the phone never rings.
The door is never locked, yet no one passes though it.
The mail never stops, but no posts arrive.
The roads lead here, yet are never traversed.
Texts and messages, notes and video;
Limitless options exist, but none are utilized.
The world has never been smaller, yet never so far away.

The silence speaks louder than words could ever hope to.
And so goes my life, the call that never comes.

Mosaic Collage Meme

I so stole this idea from some Random Chick. She thinks I'm cool (why I don't know) and I don't want to disappoint her. I've also found out that Suzanne likes when I blog when her husband's not home... I'll have to ask more about that later.

This Meme is all about the Mosaic Collage that you are about to build by answering the questions in this meme by using pictures!

1. Type your answer to each of the questions below into Google Image Search or same type of search engine for pictures.

2. Using only the first page of results, pick one image. You can't search forever for a certain image.

3. Copy and paste each in any program that you can post the pictures in a mosaic pattern. I used Microsoft Paint.

The questions:

1. What is your first name? Bob

2. What is your favorite food? Cajun

3. What high school/University did you go to? St. Thomas University

4. What is your favorite color? Green

5. Who is your celebrity crush? Anna Kournikova

6. What is your favorite drink? Tanqueray and Tonic

7. What is your dream vacation? Golf in Scotland

8. What is your favorite dessert? Pistachio Ice Cream

9. What do you want to be when you grow up? Desirable

10. What do you love most in life? I have none

11. What is one word that describes you? Bewildered

12. What is your blog name? The Essence of Bobness

Spitting

Alrighty folks, let's get our minds out of the gutter now. Lets go, up and at 'em. You can't spend all of your time down there. While it's an interesting and highly controversial subject, THAT is not what I'm talking about now.

It was a sunny, warm day on campus today. The birds were singing, a gentle breeze blew through the trees, it was spectacular. It's that peaceful time of the summer, where the spring semester has just ended but summer classes have not yet begun. No longer in the hurried, frenzied pace of having over 30,000 students on campus, a certain amount of tranquility falls upon those few who remain behind to tend to their duties. A purposeful walk from one building to another during the school year becomes a leisurely stroll soaking in the benefits of summer.

So it was today as I made my way to the Student Union to drop off some paperwork. Turning the corner on the Music Building, I started down a path where a woman was about 10 yards ahead of me. She was younger, probably a student, and a little on the large side. I didn't think much about it, just two people headed the same direction. Then it happened... she reared back, hocked up the biggest loogie she could muster from her corpulent figure, and spat that beauty out into the world with a force and determination not seen since the playing days of spitball king Gaylord Perry. Aerodynamically perfect, it soared into the air with an arcing trajectory much like a rainbow. It reached the apex of its mid-air journey and accelerated as gravity took hold and brought the spittle missile to its final resting spot on a building wall. Upon impact, it splattered there much like Nicole's blood did all over O.J.'s Bruno Magli's.

That may likely have been the most un-lady like moment I have ever witnessed. This feminine phlegm factory spewed forth this germ-ridden vileness with such a nonchalant, matter of fact attitude that I would surmise this wasn't the first time she's discharged in this manner. Oh yeah, this one is a keeper... the kind of girl you take home to mom and hope she doesn't flick a booger on the Thanksgiving turkey and fart during Midnight Mass. The Siren of Saliva in an instant ruined my entire lunch plans. It was going to be a light salad at an outside bistro, savored under a brilliant cloudless sky. I ended up going back to my office, cowering under my desk, and praying that somehow I could erase the preceding 30 minutes from my memory. No luck...

Wake me up at quittin' time...

Hell to the yeah... vindicated at last. I'm a trend setter, a trail blazer, a true pioneer in employee benefits. I never would have thought my own self serving, don't give a shit attitude would have sparked a revolution. CNN ran a story today on their website on the growing trend of people sleeping at work. (Don't bother CNN with real news like 35 Articles of Impeachment against President Bush being introduced in Congress Monday. By the way, the text of the resolution can be found here.)

The article, though informative, entirely missed the mark. The so-called experts claim people don't get enough sleep at home, so they are nodding off at work. Adults need 6-8 hours of sleep a night. The U.S. is a sleep deprived nation. On the job sleepiness costs the country billions of dollars in lost productivity. Yada, Yada, Yada.

The experts forgot to factor in one important fact.... WORK EFF-ING SUCKS. It's boring, it's tedious, it's time-consuming, it's inconvenient. What better way to pass the time than catching some quality nap time? I'm not a big fan of air travel, so how do I make that five hour cross country flight go faster? Exactly... I sleep. I don't like a movie that I'm dragged to... I'm gonna sleep through it. NASCAR on TV on a Sunday afternoon is a screaming invitation to take a luxurious nap. Get the idea... if I'm bored and need to pass some time I'm sleeping through it. It's what I do well... definitely in my top five life skills.

If my boss expects me to work forty plus hours a week, and I'm not kept entertained for all of that time, I'm going to sleep through the slow times. My employer is gracious enough to provide me with a big comfy chair for my desk, a receptionist to answer my phone calls, and a quiet corner office with a lock. What do they think is going to happen? That's like giving Amy Winehouse heroin and expecting her not to shoot up. I'm certainly not going to waste my free time on sleep. Why not do it at work and get paid for it? Join me people... join the revolution.

Confidence

confidence: noun 1: a feeling or consciousness of one's powers or of reliance on one's circumstances; 2: faith or belief that one will act in a right, proper, or effective way

Merriam-Webster Dictionary

Confidence is a valuable commodity, but it's also an elusive one. It's difficult to acquire, and maybe even more difficult to keep. For me, this has always been a tough subject and generally leaves me asking more questions than finding answers. At times I have it, at times I don't, at times I feel like I'm not capable or worthy of having it. It's a mystery and it's frustrating. Not having it holds me back from having happiness in my life, drawing upon it has allowed me to do some remarkable, rewarding things.

On a lot of occasions, confidence is a delicate balance. It's a razor thin edge between making great strides and falling into a sea of doubt. How can I feel so confident in one area of my life and so helpless and uncertain in others? What keeps confidence in one thing so high, but doesn't allow itself to spill into other aspects of my existence? There are things I'm good at, some things I'm ok at but would like to be better, and many things at which I'm not good at all. Why can't my confidence in my stronger fields help me to improve in the others? Why do I feel that I'll never be able to be good at certain things, but have the confidence to believe I can improve on the things at which I'm marginally capable? Where does my cross-wired mind draw the line when it comes to confidence? Why does confidence slip away so easily? How does it return so quickly at times and painstakingly slowly at others? Is there anything that can be done to secure the confidence I possess? Can I build upon it and make it stronger, or to work toward bringing it back when it eludes me?

In my own case, I think my confidence is directly tied to my current level of self esteem. Being a sufferer of low-grade depression, my self esteem has never been (and likely never will be) very high. At its low points, it plunges any confidence in even my best skills and abilities to low levels. In a situation where I would usually shake off a bad result, I begin to question myself. It's a vicious cycle, as this brings more uncertainty which yields more bad results and ultimately undermines my confidence level. Having little confidence reinforces the lack of self-esteem, the depression deepens and another major episode is initiated. At its mildest of times (like now), my lack of self-esteem holds me back from having the confidence to move forward. It's almost like the confidence that is there is shoring up the self-esteem that is not present. In a period of time of feeling ok, I don't dare risk anything major or sensitive that would shake my confidence and in turn allow the fragile self-esteem I have to vanish. It is a delicate, complicated formula.

So many questions and not many answers about confidence. I wasn't sure how to go about approaching this topic and honestly stopped, erased, and restarted a few times. I was confident that eventually if I stuck to it that I'd come up with something worth posting. Since you're reading this, it should be evident that I'm pleased with the result. Being the perfectionist that I am, if I didn't like it then it would still be sitting in my draft folder for another day. It bothers me that I can't take this confidence in writing to other things, but I'm beginning to understand myself enough that it's not a good place to go right now. No sense in tipping the scales of the favorable mental and emotional balance I have right now... of that I am confident.

Mute Monday: Competition

This is pissing me off

Excuse the language, but it had to be said. It's a great Saturday... the sun is shining, it's warm but not hot, the coffee is delicious, and The Fog has taken an extended absence for now. I'm in an upbeat mood and this won't derail the Bobness Express but...

I just spent 30 minutes washing dishes which just ran through the dishwasher. W-T-F??? I'm not a domestic dude, but I know how to run a freakin' dishwasher. Load the racks, not too full, no plastics on the bottom, fill the detergent dispenser (I'm a Cascade man.... just for the record), crank it up and let it run. Honestly, what could possibly be easier? Ever since moving into this place in California, conquering the challenge of getting clean and sanitary dishes has eluded me. Look at these pitiful results this morning:

It was cleaner before it put it in the dishwasher. I should have put it in the cabinet the way it was, coated with a thin film of bleu chesse dressing, bits of carrot shavings, and a dash of black pepper for accent.

Nice spoon... I should have left the mushroom gravy on it and put it in the drawer.

So not only did I have to load and unload the dishwasher, but then I had to wash, rinse, and dry. Oh the humanity, the trials of Bobness can be quite burdensome. But I trudge along secure in the fact that, although I've lost another 30 minutes in my life to menial chores, I will have cleanliness is next to godliness cutlery and dishware.

Aww look, I can almost see myself. Clean enough to use again! With my tasks for the day now completed, I can go about my weekend work of smoking cigars, surfing the internets for Canadian midget porn, and pondering life's grand mysteries.

The Future of Flying is here.... almost

Derrie-Air took to the skies today rolling out a new concept in fare structure. Based out of Philadelphia International Airport, Derrie-Air features non-stop service to many of the nation's busiest destinations. In a twist on legacy airlines (American, United, etc.) though, Derrie-Air will charge fliers by the pound for themselves and their luggage. "Since the highest variable expense for any airline is jet fuel, and jet fuel usage is directly tied to the amount of weight carried by the aircraft, it only makes sense to explore this approach in pricing," said travel analyst Richard Hertz.

In checking their website, the fare between Philly and Chicago is $1.40 per pound. So, a svelte female tipping the scales at 140 lbs. (115 body weight, 25 luggage/carry-on) would pay $196 while a more portly plumper woman at 215 lbs (180 body weight, 25 luggage/carry-on, 10 in airport Cinnabon bags) would fork over $301. The more traditional freight businesses (over the road trucking, overnight shipping, U.S. Mail, etc.) have charged a base fee per pound for years. Derrie-Air is pushing the envelope and bring the idea to the human market.

(OK folks, if you haven't already figured it out, this is not a real airline. It is a remarkable advertising campaign carried out today by Philadelphia Media Holdings to demonstrate the power of their advertising campaigns. Click the link for the MSNBC Story on the hoax.)

The ironic things about this story are 1) it's totally believable and 2) it makes a lot more sense than the current system. Airlines are trying to reduce weight load all of the time. Why do you think most are charging for a second checked bag (and many will soon start charging for any checked bag)? Luggage=weight=increased fuel burn. Replace "luggage" with "passenger" and the formula still applies. Why shouldn't our portly plumper pay more than our svelte female? Before you get all worked up, I'm not the slimmest of guys so I'd be hit harder than some.

With charges for booking over the phone, curbside check-in, first checked bag, second checked bag, preferred aisle seating, window & aisle surcharges, in flight beverages and food, headphones, reservation change fees, pay toilets, and just about anything else the airlines can think of maybe this makes more sense than people believe. In every joke there is a kernel of truth. So don't be too surprised if Derrie-Air soon begins offering service to an airport near you.