Guess what.... a tie!

Well now, look what we have here.... a tie contest. Both Cece and Brian ended up with 8 votes apiece. Since I'm the commissioner of this contest, it is my decision on how to break this deadlock. Some of the options available to me are:

1. Possession being 9/10ths of the law, I can keep them for myself
2. I can have a special run-off election between Cece and Brian
3. I can send each of them one sock
4. I can start the contest all over again
5. I can send them to Leah in return for hand knit socks
6. I can send them to Kylie in return for more Tim Tam's

What in the world should I do? Decisions... decisions... decisions.

Since there is no clear winner, I (as commissioner) declare that all of the participants are winners! I'll spread the joy and happiness of lobster socks throughout the world. So, here is how this is going to work.

A) Everyone who participated by commenting will be mailed the socks. This list is: Leah, Robyn, Kylie, Megan, Media Junkie, Suzanne, merelyme, Cece, Karen, Gig, and CSI Seattle. If "single handedly responsible" would like to de-lurk themselves to participate they can email me. If you do NOT wish to participate please add a comment to this post (or email me) to alert me to exclude you. The travel itinerary will be included with the socks. It is the responsibility of the sock holder to get the contact information for the next person on the list.

B) You will be required to take a photo (or photos) of yourself wearing the socks. Be as creative as you like, but remember the next person has to wear them too so keep them clean! Blottie, since you promised you would be naked in your photo I'm expecting something extra special from you.

C) Before the socks leave the Abode of Bobness, I'll start a blog so everyone can follow the travels of the vagabond lobsters. The photos should be uploaded to the blog along with any story you wish to write in connection with the lobster socks.

D) The last person on the list will be me. When I finally get the socks back, I'll figure out what to do with them. Since there are 11 people currently on the list, I'm guessing I'll have about one year to figure that out.

E) That's it folks. Let me know by Friday if you are in or out. It should be an interesting trip around the globe for these beautiful socks. Bite me!

Let the voting begin...

Here's the deal. The top three entries are below for you to peruse. On the sidebar to the right >>>>> you will see a poll to vote for your favorite entry. Voting will close at 11:59pm ET (8:59 PT) on Tuesday 3/31. The winner will then email me his/her address for the lobster socks. Good luck contestants!

Entry "A" ... Blottie's 9 Reasons
1. I've never won a damn thing. Was nominated many times, but nope, didn't win.
2. I look good in socks. Hell, I look good in most anything! Hell, I look good in nothing!!!! I promise to photograph myself naked in these socks. Sorry, you will only see my feet, but trust me, I'll be naked. Use your imagination.
3. I like red. However, I'll be honest, not as much as pink, so I'll probably bleach them.
4. I clicked on the "Market." Did anyone else do that? Probably not. Love the architecture. Love the vibe. I deserve to win just for taking the time to click a link.
5. I'm a vegetarian and wouldn't eat a darling lobster. As I write this I'm looking at Robyn's beautiful face, aka, Lobster Killer.
6. Oh, almost forgot to mention, I'm from the East Coast!!!
7. I'm Blottie.
8. I'm the only one who tried this hard!
Love you Bob! 9. Did anyone else say that? No. Just me. I'm preparing an email with my address as I speak. Thanks in advance.

Entry "B"... CC and Bob's Lunch
It was a beautiful blue day at the bottom of the sea. CC The Puffer fish was swimming through the coral and anemones, singing happily as she searched for food. "What do I want to eat today? I know, I’m hungry for Lobster." CC began searching the seabed for the luscious crustacean. Alas, she spotted one. She darted down toward the unsuspecting lobster and quickly found herself clasped within it’s pinchers.
“Ouch,” squealed CC the Puffer Fish! “Let me go, let me go!” But the Vicious Lobster held fast.
“What the hell do you think you were doing Puffer?”
“I was trying to have some lunch.”
“Lunch? You mean to tell me you were going to eat me for lunch?”
“I was going to try. But then you trapped me here between your pinchers. Now I seem to have lost my appetite for lobster.”
“You wouldn’t want to eat me anyway,” said the Lobster. “I am old and tough, and my tail would taste horrible without Land O Lakes butter. What you need for lunch is a nice tasty Clown Fish. Here, let’s see if we can find Nemo.”
The old Lobster released CC from his pinchers, and begain scanning the sea for clown fish. Quickly, CC swam in circles checking each of her fins to see if they still worked.
“They all still work,” she said excitedly. “Thank you Mr. Lobster, thank you for releasing me. I promise I will never try to eat you again.”
“Call me Bob, my sweet little Puffer, and what shall I call you?”
“Oh my name is CC.”
“Well my darling, CC, now you must be on your way. You still have some lunch to catch.”
CC frowned, “Yes, I suppose I do, but I have suddenly grown fond of you. I must find something to remember you by.”
Bob the Lobster gave a broad grin. “I have just the thing.” He swam under his rock house and came back out holding a nice pair of socks. The sock were ornate with miniature lobster’s just like Bob.
“Here my darling Puffer. You can have these marvelous lobster socks. And every time you wear them, you may think of me and remember, that Lobster tail tastes best with Land o Lakes butter. “
“Why thank you kind sir. I shall take those socks and cherish them always.”
CC slipped the socks onto each of her fins and swam off to find Nemo for lunch.
Bob waved goodbye with his pinchers until she was out of sight.

Entry "C" ... CSI's junkyard
Let's just put it this way; If I don't win those socks, I'm gonna move next door to you and park junk cars on my lawn.

Comcast sucks

So this was the plan for Sunday (It is 6:00pm as I write this):

1. Write a post for the sock contest in the morning while drinking my coffee.

2. At 2:00pm, I was going to a local establishment to watch the UNH/BU NCAA Hockey Northeast Regional Final. Since Comcast is a money hungry, blood sucking, greed worshiping corporation I can not get ESPNU on my cable system at home.

In reality:

1. I woke up this morning and put on the coffee. I couldn't get a wireless internet connection on my laptop. I went to the cable modem and found it not functioning properly. After 15 minutes on the phone with a Comcast customer service rep, she schedules a service call for today between 1pm and 5pm. Therefore, no morning post and no going out to watch the hockey game.

2. Here's the deal with ESPNU. ESPN would like it provided with basic cable subscriptions just like their ESPN2, ESPN Classic, and ESPN News channels. Comcast refuses to air ESPNU unless it can put it on a higher, added charge tier of sports programming. They are doing the same thing with the NFL Network. Effective May 1st, NFL Network is giving up and pulling its feed to Comcast so it can not be added to the up charge sports tier. On the internet side of the world, Comcast also does not allow access for its subscribers to ESPN360. On the bright side there are about 20 shopping channels, 5 religious channels, and about 10 channels dedicated to Spanish, Korean, Chinese, Vietnamese, and Indian programming.

3. The repair man doesn't get here until 6:00PM, one hour late from the 1pm-5pm window. 6:41pm, back online. I read that BU scored with 15 seconds left in the game to win 2-1. Too bad I missed that dramatic finish.

Thanks a lot Comcast... you suck. You've effectively ruined my only day off this week. Now that your flunky is done fixing whatever was wrong with my internet I'm surfing over to Direct TV to check out their pricing. They do have ESPNU, the NFL Network, and access to watch all of the Red Sox games this season. The next step will be checking out alternative high speed internet providers. I'm done with you Comcast.

Fence Finale

Wire Services Report - San Jose, CA: In an unexpected end to a lengthy saga, temporary fencing securing temporary fencing vanished overnight from a downtown San Jose location. After having occupied the area with seemingly no purpose or designated use for over five months, all that remained on Friday morning was an indentation and fallen leaves which marked the footprint of its former resting spot. Law enforcement officials were contacted, but no reports have been filed reporting the temporary fencing being lost or stolen. "We have not been contacted about any stolen fencing," Lieutenant Bill E. Clubb stated. "Until we have information contrary to this, it is our assumption that no foul play is involved in this non-case."

Residents and office dwellers in area are shocked by the disappearance of the temporary fencing guarding temporary fencing. "I am completely distraught" said a passerby calling himself just bob. "I left work last night and it was there and this morning nothing. I just don't understand how something like this can happen in what I thought was a safe neighborhood." Others seemed to be taking things in stride. "I really didn't pay much attention to it" said resident Shirley Ujest, "but now that it is gone I may miss it a little." Another local resident was not as delicate in his response. "I'm glad that fencing is finally gone. It was an eyesore and a blight on the area," said Sal Ammander. "They never even used it."

That was the main mystery behind the temporary fencing. While located on a main plaza for foot traffic, it appeared to be untouched for most of its nearly half a year stay. "We never ordered it," said Facility Development and Operations Manager Ken Struckshun . "It wasn't my responsibility and I had no reason to have it removed." A canvas of the area turned up no freshly fenced in areas, so it is apparent the fencing has been removed rather than being relocated. Calls to the fencing company for comment have thus far been un-returned. Anyone with information on the disposition of the temporary fencing guarding temporary fencing is encouraged to call (888) NO-FENCE. All callers will remain anonymous.

NEWS FLASH!!!!

I need to interrupt the sock contest
with important news...

THE FENCE IS GONE!!!

More details as they become available.

Who wants some of this?

They are not hand made...


You, yes YOU can be the proud owner of your own pair of genuine lobster socks. Straight from Quincy Market, the chance to own this beautiful pair of "Bite Me" lobster socks is now being offered to the faithful readers of The Essence of Bobness. You know I wear lobster socks... so now you have the chance to be just like me (except better looking).


So Let's Make A Deal. Tell me what having these socks would mean to you. Is it some sad story about growing up without socks? Is it an undying adoration of crustaceans that would be fulfilled if you had these socks? Is it some foot fetish that compels you? Is it as simple as you want them because you never win anything? Be creative, be funny, be crude, be yourself.


Add your submission as a comment to this post. You can enter as many as you want, but I will pair (get it, pair=pare) down the list to the best three and allow everyone to vote. Just like Monty Hall... you'll have three choice except you'll know what's behind the door. You have until 11:59pm Eastern Time on Friday (8:59pm Pacific Time and I have no freakin' clue what time or day in Sydney, Australia) to submit your stories. I'll read them all and post the poll on my sidebar sometime Saturday.

Ready... set.... write!!!

I'm Back

I'm back in California. Here are a few bullet points for all of you to mull over. My body is still on East Coast time and it feels like I've been up 18 hours, catching a few light naps on the plane trips back. Add to it that I caught a cold overnight so I'm wiped out.

I met the 6 month old daughter of two of my closest friends. I'm now unofficially uncle just bob.

I saw five hockey games in 3 days, one national championship, one conference championship, and the Bruins clinch the Northeast Division title.

I unexpectedly got to see a number of people I know but was so very glad I bumped into them.

I had forgotten how beautiful a city Boston is, both during the day and especially at night.

I walked more through Boston this weekend than in the 10 years I lived in New England. But I now know my way around much better than I ever did. Pictures to follow in the next few days.

When we were walking back to car after the Bruins game Sunday afternoon it started to snow. It was only flurries and lasted a mere 5 minutes but it was the perfect end to the weekend.

I'm glad I went, sorry I had to come back, and very ready to return to The Hub.

You gotta a dollar? Me love you long time.

I gotta tell y'all... I have just seen such a wonderful show it's amazing. After taking in the finals of the Hockey East Championship in Boston, I finally made it back to my hotel. Not being satisfied with 2 beers with dinner and 3 more at the TD Banknorth Garden, I stayed downstairs to have a nightcap. All I can say is that it was quite a floor show and worth the $11 per drink that I was paying for the Spiced Apple Martini's.

She was what is frequently called a MILF. Trust me friends... if you work enough conferences and spend enough nights at upscale hotels, you can tell the difference between two people getting to know each other and a fiscally beneficial relationship that will end in Carnal Knowledge. It was a sight to behold. She was a looker in every sense of the word.

She was very attractive. She was blond with a skirt that was above the knees with stockings and blouse that showed off "the ladies" prominently. It was sexy, bordering on slutty but not quite crossing the line. He flirted with her, she flirted with him. She was so clearly out of his league (like me with anyone from the opposite sex) that there was no room for doubt what sort of arrangement was transpiring before our eyes. It was a floor show without the cover charge It was all very precious except that both the bartender and I could clearly see what was going on. She was very good at what she does and clearly worth whatever she was making at the time.

The bartender and I exchanged glances. It was one of those, "Can you believe what we are watching ?" looks. When the couple finally left the bar presumably to seal the deal so to speak, the bartender and I just looked at each other and laughed. "She's working hard," I said to the bartender. "Absolutely" she replied with a grin that stradled the line between humor and disgust. It was one of those, "I can't believe what I just saw but also I am pissed by how much that wh--- is going to make tonight while I work my ass off" looks. I felt bad for her. An honest days work for an honest wage obliterated by a upscale call girl who will make 10 times that amount in one night.

So when the tab came, I tipped well over 20% on the bill. I ended up bonus, unexpected entertainment while being burdened with the guilt watching a decent, hard working woman end up on the short end of the final tally while the "professional" made a killing the easy way. It's just not fair on so many different levels. And so goes my Saturday night of hockey and hookers.

Who needs socks?

Who needs hand knitted socks when you can put on these brand spanking new babies to keep your feet warm?

The First Day of Spring

From Boston Common...

Imagine having the foresight to set aside public land in 1634...

Boston Skyline

General George Washington

Literally a walk in the park...

Relaxing at the fountain...

No baseball yet...

...but a little spring training

A budding start...

An Alice in Wonderland front yard on Beacon Street.

Entry to the Tadpole Playground...

... with kids aplenty.

No more skating on the frog pond.

Now you know where just bob is.... since no one wanted to try guessing.

Where in the world is just bob?

Give me your best guesses. It's safe to say he's not at home.

For Leah....

Leah... here are some photos to help you with your next knitting project....

As you can see... my feet are approximately 10 inches long.

My feet are about 4 1/2 to 5 inches wide.

Here is a profile picture. I don't know if it helps you to see my arch and instep.

I like hunter green, navy blue, or maroon but I won't be picky about the color.

Thanks for picking me as the winner of the socks.

Happy Evacuation Day!

Happy Evacuation Day everyone!!! On March 17, 1776, British forces retreated from Boston during the American Revolutionary War. It was the end of an 11-month siege when the Continental Army, under the direction of General George Washington, secured Dorchester Heights and forced the British to retreat all the way north to Nova Scotia. Suffolk County, in which Boston lies, has celebrated the holiday since 1901. Government offices are closed, and schools are not in session. Although not in Suffolk County, public schools in Cambridge and Somerville are also closed for the holiday. If March 17th falls over a weekend, the following Monday is the officially observed holiday.

Oh yeah, Boston has a large Irish population if you didn't know. Afterall... while it would be wrong to declare a government holiday for a religious figure who is the patron saint of another country, it is perfect acceptable to celebrate recapturing the city of Boston from a bunch of English blokes during the Revolutionary War especially if it coincides with another, more famous, celebration. And if you can get a day off and drink your face off in the process, so much the better.

Because Suzy asked

Six more unimportant facts about me:

1. I shave my face while taking my morning shower
2. My dressing routine is right sock, left sock, right shoe, left shoe
3. Snickers are my favorite candy
4. I have never been ice skating
5. I have been to one Super Bowl game
6. Cucumbers make me burp

Turtle Porn

In the spirit of Two Angry Camels in a Car,
I present to you a turtle humping a boot:

Thanks to HotDrWife over at Green Apple Martini.

Have a great weekend everyone.

Not a real important post

Leah tagged me over at The Weather in the Streets with this meme: Mention six things of no real importance about yourself. I'll give it a shot and see what happens...

1. I've traveled through 43 of the 50 U.S. states
2. I've played golf in 25 of the 50 U.S. states
3. I only write with blue ink pens
4. Traumatized by my high school uniform, I won't wear brown slacks
5. I am right handed but eat predominantly with my left hand
6. My birthday is _____________.

I'm not tagging anyone... but Leah feel free to tell us more about yourself :)

Still alive at five

People walk by the fence, unaware of the significance of the day. Today is the fifth anniversary of the arrival of the fence. My temporary fencing secured by temporary fencing. Our fifth anniversary was marked by a bright sunny day... chilly in the morning but warming to a brilliant spring afternoon.

I never would have imagined that we would be together so long. When someone drops temporary fencing into your life, you don't expect it to last long. Temporary fencing is a fleeting relationship where it swoops in, changes your life for a while, and vanishes never to be seen again. No real commitment, just some fun and aggravation only to end when you are both finished using each other. You move onto more permanent fencing or none at all, while the temporary fencing finds someone new and enters their life.

But not in this case. My temporary fencing and I are still together, five months into what could be a long term relationship. Through good times and bad, through wind and rain, through sunshine and cold, we've stuck together. Still going strong after all this time. Happy fifth anniversary temporary fencing securing temporary fencing.

What if?

How much is too much?

How soon is too soon?

I've pondered these questions, and others like them, for years. It seems like my total existence is sometimes predicated on a underlying foundation of uncertainty. As far back as I can remember, my adult life has been an endless series of what if's and if/then's questions. I wonder why I can't seem to be confident enough to make a decision and not over analyze it. Should I have put that extra dash of pepper in the chili? If I call today will it be too soon and make me look desperate? If I don't call today will it make me look disinterested? If I choose A over B, C, or D what will everyone think? What if I'm wrong?

We all know people who spontaneously act in certain situations. We know people who operate on instinct and don't seem to think anything out before leaping headlong into it. I'm not advocating this approach to life, but I wonder where the balance between acting and overreacting lies. Out of necessity it must be different for various times, but where is the happy medium? I wonder when thoughtful consideration crosses the line and becomes obsessive.

I feel like I get too locked up on thinking that I miss living, paralyzed with inability to let things happen naturally. Or to let things happen naturally then worry if I could have made it better. I wonder how much I haven't experienced because I spent too much time ruminating whether I should do it or not. How many opportunities have passed me by? How much stress have I needlessly placed on myself with all of this doubt? Why do I have to be so anxious all of the time?

Should I change the way I look at life? Can I ever make a life altering shift like this? I'll have to take some time to think about it.

Hug

I've been alone most all of my life, for as long as I can remember. As a child, mom worked a split shift at work. She'd take my brother and I to school in the morning, went to work, picked us up and got us started on homework and dinner, then went back to work from about 6p-10p which was bedtime when she got home. My brother spent most of those evening hours in his bedroom, watching his shows on his TV, while I got the living room. Not a bad arrangement space wise, but not too conducive to conversation. Thinking back on it now, we didn't even share the household chores. One or the other of us would trade off the kitchen and cleaning duties day to day, not even working to do things together like washing and drying the dishes. It wasn't that we didn't like each other, it was just that we never really got to know each other. He liked movies and role playing games, I liked sports and music. In a lot of ways we were very different and at the same time very similar, two latch-key kids who grew up separately together.

Moving onto high school, things didn't change all that much. I went to a high school located in Boca Raton, about 20 miles away from home and not the one a majority of my grade school classmates attended. Our family had only the one car, which mom needed for work, so I rode the bus to and from school. This distance gap wasn't the only thing that separated me from the group. Boca Raton is a much more affluent city than my hometown, with the expected class separation between teen have's and have not's. Not that it really mattered all that much. In a school of upper crust, well to do teenagers, a fat, glasses-wearing, no-car, nerd in the Honors Society and Math Club wasn't going to have many, if any friends. A foundation of being alone had been set by the time I was out of my teens.

Since those days of my youth I've become accustomed to being alone. I am used to dining alone, attending a game or concert by myself, or playing golf as the stranger in a foursome. It is just the way I am and suspect I will always be. But being lonely is entirely different from being alone. I would define being lonely as the times when it would be nice to have someone to come home to or to pal around with on a weekend. Being alone is fine, and can be liberating to a point, but being lonely sucks. I am alone most of the time, and lonely on occasion. Kylie has a thought provoking post today about on-line friends vs. real life friends. I have a lot of on-line friends who mean a great deal to me. We pick each other up when we are down, we share a laugh or smile or cry, we offer advice and we throw month long birthday parties. But as wonderful as on-line friends are, sometimes you need a real life hug. When you are alone, you know that hug is not coming and that is when it becomes even more lonely.

Never discount the value of a hug, whether it be a cordial greeting or a mighty bear hug. They all have great meaning, especially to those who rarely get them and desperately need them.

Two pains in the ass back

My back is a wreck.

I have two very distinct areas that flare up from time to time for entirely different reasons. Of course, they have chosen to conspire and both attack at the same time. My lower back is tender from a life of abuse, mostly from the turning and torquing it takes from playing golf for 30+ years. When I have an episode, it generally comes from overdoing it, not stretching, or just being lazy and slouching too much on the couch. Last night, it started to spasm when I picked up a full laundry basket. A friggin' laundry basket. How old am I? It's not one of the more serious episodes I've had, but annoying nonetheless. Advil, rest, a well placed heating pad, or a hot bath over the next couple of days will take care of it.

The spasms at the junction of my neck and left shoulder are another matter entirely. These are completely stress related. There are usually no warning signs when these will strike. This morning, I was at the traffic light waiting to pull into the garage at work when that familiar sharp pain shot through my body. It was intense enough that I involuntarily jerked the steering wheel a bit and mashed the brake pedal further into the floor board. Advil and the heating pad help this too, but only when the immediate stress subsides. When the neck pain strikes, it is even painful to turn my head. So instead of turning my head, I have to turn my torso which further aggravates my already tender lower back. The last three hours have been pure joy... stuck at work without a heating pad, sucking down wimpy, out of date aspirin from the first aid kit, and betting against myself which will be the next to spasm, upper back or lower back. Right now the score stands Upper: 3, Lower: 1 and I've been right 50% of the time.

The Battle of the Back rages on with no ceasefire on the horizon.

Sunday morning

I hear the birds chirping as the light sneaks its way through the blinds. It is the only sound I hear, a blissful peace so rare in these times. The coffee begins to percolate, the bubbling brew joining the chorus of birds in a cheerful Sunday serenade. It is a calm moment in a world hurrying to race away from all of us.

The sun moves higher in the sky, casting longer shadows along the tiled floor. A big mug of coffee rests on the table next to me as I soak it all in. The room warms from the sunlight as the birds continue their symphony just outside the window. The aroma of the coffee fills the room, tantalizing not only the taste buds but also the sense of smell. I breathe it all in, filling my lungs with a serenity so vacant from my life.

I imagine capturing just a little of this inside to carry home. A moment of peace, a moment of tranquility, a moment of rejuvenation of both mind and spirit seized from this one place and time to buoy me. A solitary moment made possible by the kindness of a kindred soul who opened their door and possibly their heart.

So Monday morning lurks mere hours away. The birds will be gone, and the silence will be shattered by the oncoming freight train called life... loaded with burdening cargo. Time doesn't stop, and life keeps pushing me like a wave away from the safety of shore. But on this Sunday morning, a little birdy sung a soothing melody... a reminder of the people and things that truly are important.