Happy Holidays... whatever you observe.

The Why Files may not be your thing. I totally get that. But I do want to share this Christmas message from AJ (btw... is Hecklefish on holiday already?) because I think it's important. It's been a pretty shitty year for me; but I'll likely dive into that later.

Don't forget the people in your life you take for granted. I know I can't shower people with cash these days, but a thoughtful card that was unexpected goes a long way. If you feel comfortable, let them know why you can't contribute financially, but that you still value and cherish their place in your life. In a lot of cases, I think this may mean more than a few dollars stuffed into an envelope.

Against All Odds... 30 years later

If you're new here, or if you don't remember 30 years ago, this song was burned into my soul for the rest of my existence. To this day... I can't hear it without devolving into a blubbering mass of tears. It is engrained into who I am. It sent me down a path, one that defined who I would become.

And if you don't know (or remember) why I carry this, you can refresh your memory here: The Last Valentine. Thirty years later, the scar hasn't healed. It changed everything, including today. I never really tried after that night. I was permanently broken. The "only one who really knew me at all" decided to "walk away" and all I could do was "watch you leave without a trace." 

There was no one after "K." There couldn't be. There wouldn't be. A young man (20 something) in the prime of his life, stumbles across the woman he believes deep in his soul he would spend the rest of his life with. They would share the joy of forming a family they could call their own. The house, the white picket fence, the 2.3 children, and the big back yard for the dogs to play.

All blown apart by a nuclear bomb that would spread its toxic effects for decades. Thirty years later these lyrics still ring true. "Take a look at me now, there's just an empty space." It stayed empty; so damaged it could never be salvaged.

Not Good Enough

I have never been good enough. It's not a hard concept to understand, but it is a difficult reality to accept.

In my younger years, I devoted a great deal of my time and effort into my career. With a Bachelor's Degree in Sports Administration, I set out on my course for a career. I eventually landed with an entry level position with a minor league hockey team in a newly formed league. My "title" was Director of Operations. That meant, since I wasn't coaching, sharpening skates, or filling water bottles, I was in charge of it. Paying bills, team payroll, player housing, team transportation, team doctors and medical, merchandise ordering and sales, media relations, ticketing and invoicing, etc. Way before personal cellphone technology was developed, that also put me in me charge of redirecting calls from my bosses "sister" to him (wink, wink, nudge, nudge, say no more). I was young, looking to prove my skills, and working towards advancing my career. I was taught in college... get your foot in the door, work hard, learn as much as you can in all facets of the business, and you'll succeed.

How did that all work out you may ask. My in game public address announcer, who was a local radio news anchor, got hired to be the PA announcer for the local NHL franchise. The radio voice of the team got hired by the same NHL franchise and eventually became a Vice President in Major League Baseball. The beat writer from the local newspaper that followed our team was assigned to the local NHL team and eventually moved along to greater things. A sports reporter for the local CBS affiliate covered the team on selected weekends until elevating themselves to ESPN and worldwide recognition. In short, everyone not directly associated with me that I helped do there jobs got recognized and rewarded. I got no recognition. No accolades. Not even a simple thank you. I wasn't good enough.

My fate was sending out hundreds of resumes and hundreds of cover letters with no positive results. I kept a fledgling hockey team in a fledgling minor hockey league alive for three years. Back in the 1990's I worked for $1,000 a month with no benefits. I lived at home on the couch (thanks Momness). I was asked a few times if I could "wait on my check until next week" to make sure the players got paid and didn't strike. I chased the illusion, taught to me in life and reinforced in college, that if I worked hard enough I would eventually be recognized and rewarded. But I wasn't good enough.

I now realize that I had reached my peak in life in May 1989. I graduated from college with my future and the whole world ahead of me. I was in the best physical shape I had ever been. Then the whole world looked and said you're not good enough. I've been told this in some way, shape, or form the next 36 years including today. I truly am worthless.

Transfer

Why am I still here? I saw a video the other day with a key message; and it struck home like a bolt of lightning. This one sentence... "Suicide doesn’t end the pain, it only transfers it onto others" opened up a new perspective to end of life decisions.

To stay true to myself, I need to stay true to my being. I would never do anything to intentionally hurt to my family or perceived friends. My nature would never allow me to transfer my desperation and grief onto others and cause them suffering. I won't saddle them with that sorrow and burden. They deserve to live the best lives they can achieve. They deserve to flourish without the underlying question of "what could I have done?" 

I've spent my life in service of others. Professionally, I brought countless people joy and entertainment. I feel like I did something to enrich their lives... if only for a few hours. Personally, I have always strived to leave others in a better place. In most instances, I think I've chosen the right path to follow. A well intentioned "thanks, I appreciate you," a thoughtful "gee, I like your hair," or a well placed smile for a cashier I could tell was having a bad day were small gestures I hoped would make a big impact. 

Robin Williams was one of the kindest, funniest people of my generation. I think I've taken this quote to heart and try to live it. He gave his heart and soul to keep anyone from feeling the way he did. Ultimately he had nothing left to give and his strength was gone. My suffering is mine and I own it. Like Robin, I give all I can to keep anyone from feeling the way I do. I hope I don't choose to transfer that onto others, but sometimes you have nothing left to give.

Thankstaking

Here in the good old USA, Thursday is an annual celebration of "Thanksgiving Day." We're supposed to take a moment to sit back, reflect on what we have, and settle down with our family in a meal to celebrate the bountiful grace of our god and our freedom.

Today, I (and many others) neither have a bountiful grace or freedom. Nameless, faceless, and seemingly lawless gestapo roam the streets of the country. They round up non-white people and make them "disappear." The government, designed nearly 250 years ago, was intended to afford "We the people" the equal chance at "life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness" for all. This country and its current leadership actively works against those founding morals. I'm a white male. I'm relatively safe. The fact that anyone not like me is under attack is disgusting. Take away health care from the most vulnerable. Take away food benefits from children, veterans and most needy. Take away the right to love who you want. Take away the right to live the way you identify. Imprison those protecting the rights written 250 years ago.

Personally, I see my future destroyed in front of me. My mother's life care is bankrupting me. I'll end up living in my car under a bridge in a few years. Social Security and Medicare will either be gone or outsourced to private companies more focused on profits than people. There really is no hope for me to live dignified final years. Getting a start on the inevitable isn't out of the question. If it's going to be torture, might as well make it short instead of prolonged.

So Happy Thankstaking! Take my freedom. Take my dignity. Take my stability. Take my "pursuit of happiness." Take my limited future. And when you're done bending me over the dining room table without lube, leave the door unlocked so those desperate to survive and with a reason to live can take what is left.

JB and the Brain, Act III

Just Bob (JB): Hey brain you still here?

Brain: I've been here (kinda) the past 10 years waiting for you.

JB: I guessed that. I've been gone too long.

Brain: I know that... Minnesota, North Dakota, Connecticut, Iowa and now Minnesota again. What TF were you thinking?

JB: I've been chasing some peace and a purpose in life.

Brain: And you still haven't found it right?

JB: Nope, I haven't. It's a long story.

Brain: We'll get into a lot of that later. But what is top of your mind now?

JB: Thanksgiving on Thursday, It was always our family holiday

Brain: And this holiday?

JB: Mom is in memory care and kinda remembers me sometimes. My brother, only 60 minutes away, doesn't take the time to see her. Heck, he doesn't take the time to reach out to me.

Brain: That's rough. She's always going to be both your mothers.

JB: And that's why this week is always going to hurt the most. Thanksgiving was OUR holiday.

Brain: go on...

JB: As we grew older, Mom started working most of the holidays. With her seniority, she would always request those days off. Then she would trade them and work for someone who had little children. Christmas and Easter mostly. The double time and a half sure helped out the paycheck too.

Brain: But not Thanksgiving.

JB: Never Thanksgiving. We were always together. Mom setting her alarm to get up and get the turkey in the oven. Some years were leaner than others, but there was always turkey, stuffing, gravy, mashed potatoes, some vegetable, and a pie or two. The good dishes, tablecloth, the whole package.

Brain: Sounds wonderful.

JB: It was. When I eventually moved away, I'd always come back for Thanksgiving. As the years passed by, I would be the one in the kitchen preparing the meal for Mom to rest. It was my way of giving thanks for her.

Brain: And now?

JB: I know it's not her fault, but I struggle a lot not having her "present." The spirit of her is still here, wrapped up in a 90+ year old who doesn't have much memory of anything after she got married and moved away from home.

Brain: And you feel all mixed up...

JB: Yes I do. She's my Mom, but she doesn't remember me. She dedicated her life to raising and caring for me... and now she sometimes feels like a burden to me. The financial hardship, the paperwork and insurance, her deteriorating health, etc. She was always the one I'd turn to looking for advice on managing troubled times. And now she's the center of those times.

Brain: That's a lot to handle on your own. Anything I can help with?

JB: Just get me through this week. Deal with the everyday stuff of life while I try to navigate the shitstorm of emotions.

Brain: Deal buddy. I got you. And don't be so hard on yourself. Okay?

JB: I'll try...

Brain: Remember, there are still things for which to be thankful. You may not see them because of the storm, but they are out there. Once the storm passes, we'll look for them together.

Bah Humbug

Even the bellringers are out of work this holiday.

I cried today

I cried today. At this video, at this time. President Obama surpised a Honor Flight landing in Washington, D.C. He thanked each and every one of them for their service and their commitment to our country. On its own, it was a powerful and emotional moment for everyone involved and everyone watching. Definitely NOT a "suckers and losers" moment.

I cried today because of how far this country has fallen since 2016. A meglomaniac daily destroys the nearly 250 years of work and sacrifice of millions of ordinary citizens for the benefit of himself and his oligarchy. Our system of government, designed to prevent this unchecked tyranny, has been complicit. The House of Representatives serves as merely a fluffer to the orange shitgibbon's miniscule mirco-penis... (not to mention Grindr Mike Johnson's protection of his pedophilia by not seating Adelita Grijalva and blocking the release of the Epstein Files). Too many Democratic Senators, who are voted into office to support their constituents, are more concerned about their AIPAC retirement funds than they are in protecting affordable health care. The Supreme Court is bought and paid for by Leonard Leo and Harlan Crow. 

In 2008 I campaigned for Barack Obama (even before he had secured the nomination over Hillary Clinton). I contributed to the campaign. I knocked on doors (out of state in Nevada since my home state California was a sure thing). I phone banked and talked to hundreds of people in swing states like Ohio, North Carolina, Michigan, etc. for months... right up until the polls closed. And we won. And the country recovered and began to thrive after GWB. In 2012, I threw myself into the effort to keep HOPE alive. Phone banking from deep red North Dakota quickly became my hobby of choice. And we won. And everyone in the country succeeded.

I cried today because there isn't much hope for America as we approach the country's 250th Anniversary in 2026. Nameless, faceless Gestapo roam our streets to "disappear" anyone who is black, brown or yellow (non-white). The regime strips journalists access to the Pentagon unless they submit to broadcasting only the "approved state news." MAGA  supports starving the poor among us. They fight to strip the access and power to voting away from those who don't agree with the Dear Leader. They fight to strip healthcare benefits from the most vulnerable of us and astronomically raise the price of health insurance for those who have it. They impose catastrophic tariffs that destroy international trade and bankrupt American businesses. Then they propose a token "tariff rebate." They will, by all means available, try to cancel the elections of 2028 and keep their orange messiah in power.

I cried today for the veterans. Each and every day they represent this country in the most highest honor possible and defend the Contstitution of the United States (even those attacked for who they love or how they indentify themselves). Active or retired, they defend the dreams and ideals a rag-tag bunch of guys had 250 years ago that all should be free and equal. Our veterans deserve better. They deserve to be welcomed home (even after battles with which we disagreed). They deserve the best treatment availble for their wounds (especially the mental trauma they will live with for their lifetimes). They deserve more than just a free breakfast at Denny's one day a year.

I cried today because I fear it will never get any better, no matter how hard we fight back.

Snow Stakes

So the landscaping company at our apartment complex did their final cleanup on Friday. All of the fallen leaves were collected, and they left us these. For those not in the northern climates, these are snow stakes. As you can see, they define the curbs in parking lots, sidewalks, etc. Typically your "landscaping" company transitions into your "snow removal" company. The stakes help snow plow drivers know where the curbs are when they clear the snow... usually in the dark during the early hours before sunrise. It is the sign that fall is over and winter is near.

An interesting footnote for southern readers... take a look at the fire hydrant on the left hand side of the photo. If you zoom in and enlarge the photo, you can see the red/white pole attached to the hydrant. That's there in case the hydrant gets buried in snow, so the firefighters can find it. Flurries are in the forecast today with little or no accumulation. We've turned our clocks back, the trick-or-treaters have come and gone, and the snow stakes have returned after their hiatus. Winter is on the way.

Everyman

Marshawn Kneeland was 24 years old. He played football for the Dallas Cowboys of the NFL. In his last game, he recovered a blocked punt for a touchdown on national television. A defensive player, it was his first touchdown in the NFL. He went to college at Western Michigan University. He apparently had a girlfriend and strong family support in his life. Wednesday night, he got into a high speed chase with law enforcement, ran and escaped. Then he raised a gun and ended his own life. 

He had his whole life ahead of him. It is an absolute tragedy. Why he made the decisions he made that evening, no one will ever know. My heart aches for his family, his friends, and fans of his football career at WMU and the Cowboys. By all accounts, he was a good person, a hard worker, and an overachiever of his life goals. Then he ended them in one night, in one instant.

What chance does an "everyman" have when he/she contemplates the same resolution? They DON'T have the world in front of them. They DON'T have a NFL salary pouring into their bank accounts. They DON'T have a committed companion and family support behind them. They DON'T have unlimited resources from their employer to begin coping with mental health issues they may be having. They likely DO have a destructive family or personal situation. They likely DO have financial troubles which are insurmountable. They DO see no positive future on the horizon. They DO see public assistance, their last lifeline, being eliminated by the current administration. They make the same choice as he did last night/this morning. It is no less a tragedy as Marshawn Kneeland, only more unreported or unrecognized.

I am an "everyman." I often consider choosing the route that Marshawn and countless others make each and every day. Some days it's a fleeting thought. Some days it keeps me awake at night. And some days... a high profile individual with everything going for them does exactly what I've been thinking. And on those days, I wonder why I didn't get there before them.

Vote (Blue) Today

Get out and VOTE today for the obvious reasons. But get out and vote for another less obvious reason. When 2026 rolls around, you know the GOP (guardians of pedophiles) will resurrect their endless campaign of purging voter rolls. Given their blatant disregard for the law, you know they will designate you as an "inactive voter" if you miss this year's off-cycle elections.

Even if it is only one ballot measure or one school board race, take 10 minutes and vote. It will help to protect your right to vote in 2026. Visit your state's Secretary of State website to see if there is a primary in your district and your polling place. Keep in mind, some districts have different polling places for federal elections versus state and local elections.

Here I Go Again...

Here I go again on my own... In a world with so many different ways to express yourself, going back to blogging (which is dead from a commercial standpoint) seems a little pointless. Gone are the days where search engines would find blogs, scan their key words and have them near the top of their results list. Most everyone who will take the time to peruse these pages is someone who already knows me. In fact, most of us met (virtually at first) from reading each others blogs. I would read a blog, then search their list of followers and would read and follow others. Communities formed around common themes and grew organically. Sometimes, we'd form our own private communities (The Wild Onion Cafe) to share amongst ourselves without the world watching (a basic form of what would become Zuckerberg's Nightmare). IF you stumble your way across this blog, or get invited from a "friend of a friend," then Biindigen.

But why? I'm sure a big part of it is the search for that sense of community. I don't have that anymore. At 94 years old, Momness doesn't remember my name. My brother and I (who have never been close) live in the same city and rarely see or speak with each other unless it's about Momness. I found a glimmer of community during the No Kings march in October. You're my tribe and sometimes I'd like to share things more in depth than just 120 characters.

Another big part is to express some of my creativity to the world. Reformatting the look and style of a blog was a challenge, but fun. Writing for the sake of writing... trying to be funny when I feel funny, serious when I feel serious, scared when I feel scared, and vulnerable when I feel vulnerable. The ability to do these things personally for people who I know I can trust, and anonymously for people I don't know that I can trust, presents a freedom I can't find on today's popular social media platforms.

So what will be here... THE ARCHIVES! Yes, this is the former blog with all of the former content. The only things I've changed are the url (to be less conspicuous) and the template format (to keep things fresh to the eye). Like in the past, new posts will probably be every few days. I put down a few new ones while shaking out the bugs before going back live. I'll also be bringing back some recurring themes, like JB & The Brain. Similar to before, it will be stream of consciousness. Funny, sad, topical, newsworthy, or somewhere in between; you'll never be quite sure what you'll get on a given day. And that's The Essence of Bobness.

Haloween Revisited

Way back in the past, 30 years ago, I would go to my bosses home to help him celebrate Halloween. "Celebrate" is kind of a loose term.... he and I would grill outside in the front yard (steaks, chicken, lamb chops, etc.) and hand out candy to the trick or treaters while his wife took his two girls throughout the neighborhood to trick ot treat. As you can probably surmise, there were plenty of adult beverages in the coolers while we were holding down the fort. Since this was Florida, there was also plenty of OFF spray and citronella candles to ward off the swarms of mosquitos after sundown.

Good times and good memories with good people. (As an aside, that year we did lamb chops it was amazing). So many years since I can remember being not happy, but at least "at peace." 

Garlic

When your small space in existence, and the world in general, is a depressing mess; you cling to any small victory. My garlic have gotten a good start this fall.

I’ll have to mulch over them this week as the snow will soon begin to fall and the hard winter freeze will set in.

Hopefully when spring comes, I’ll be here to clear the mulch and watch them bloom into beautiful flowers and delicious food.

Watch your step... reconstruction zone.

Holy crow.... it's been so long since I visited this place that I've forgotten how to navigate it. It's going to take a while until I get back into the swing of things. So consider this a construction site until I figure things out again and get them where I'd like them to be. But while you wait #FuckIce.