Author Archives: Robert

When we first moved here three years ago, there was a small prickly pear cactus in the way of what was to become our driveway.  We put it in a pot during the construction phase.  It didn’t do so well.  Once we moved in and the weather started to warm up, I took the little cactus and chopped it up.  I found a donor cholla as well on the property and chopped that up too.  I wanted to line the back wall with cactus.

The photo on the left is evidence of what was to come.  Both the prickly pear and cholla sprouted.  This year, the cholla is about to bloom!  As soon as it does, I’ll take some photos.

Spring is here!

There was a contest here in town.  For charity.  It was fashioned after that popular TV show where people compete for a recording contract by singing.  Seems that me–being the big karaoke loudmouth–paid off.  I entered (at the last minute) and won in the male category. You’d think I’d be happy about it but in this case, victory is bittersweet.

Why didn’t I pursue this singing thing twenty years ago?  Maybe I could have actually done something.  Instead, my years of self doubt turned into a giant speed bump.  I waited too long and then accelerated at the last minute.  Went too fast and caught air.  Right now, I’m flying.  The sand paper asphalt is just about to make contact with my flesh.  Feels like I’m about to become hamburger meat.

I’m too old for American Idol.  The pipes don’t do what they could have two decades ago.  I’m such a fucking asshole.  Oh well.  I can still sing in my garage.  Fame would have destroyed me anyway…but the money sure would have been nice.

I’ve been wrestling with depression lately.  I shouldn’t be.  Some days I look in the mirror and wonder who’s looking back.  It’s frightening because things have been going so well lately–hell, I’m the prize-winning singer in my teeny-tiny town.  Local celebrity.  That’s me.  What a fucking joke.

I have become disenchanted by small town life.  It’s so…gossipy.  Like playing the telephone game 24/7.  Doesn’t that sound like fun?  It’s not.  I should have moved here and kept my mouth shut.  Who am I kidding?  I’ve never been able to do that.

So please accept my apologies.  I don’t seem to have much to write about.  Hey, I know, let’s play non sequitur!

Random subjects!

• Swine Flu – freaks me out too but hey, only a handful of people have it.  Let’s not break out our copies of The Stand just yet.
• Fox News – The network that touts its news as the New Moral Compass also produces Family Guy, Married With Children, The Simpsons, etc.  Do the die-hard Fox News viewers ever watch these shows?
• Dick Cheney – Now you start talking??   Shut.  The.  Fuck. Up.   Lives up to his first name.
• Susan Boyle – Unibrow worked in her favor lowering expectations.  Gets a makeover and the world sees her at the competent yet mediocre singer she really is.
• Tea Parties – A. You just got a tax break!!  B. Didn’t anyone run the phrase “TEABAGGING” past the teenage kids first?
• Sean Hannity – Has anybody heard anymore about this offer from Sean to be waterboarded?  Oh pleeeease Sean!  Please show us how harmless it is!  You big wuss!
• Christianity – Maybe Revelations was Christianity predicting the end of itself.  Just a thought.
• Criticizing Obama – What? You want fucktard George back?  Maybe you’re just mad because you LOST! To quote Jon Stewart, “It’s supposed to taste like a shit taco!”
• Same sex marriage – No! I’m not going to fucking Iowa to get married.  I want to be married anywhere in the United States just like any other American–and I want retroactive rights.  I am marred–have been for fifteen fucking years!  Don’t spew out your hateful “protect the sanctity of marriage” crap either.  Who was there to protect me from my parent’s divorce?
• People ranting on their blogs – Oh wait…that’s me.

This post sucks.  I’m going to bed.  I do feel surprisingly better though…

So he snores sometimes.  He can’t help it.  I lay there in the dark trying to tune into my white noise machine.  It doesn’t work so I get up and make my way into the kitchen before turning on the computer in the office. Do I make coffee first or do I sit in the dark and let my eyes adjust to the glowing computer monitor?  Making coffee is like a real commitment to waking up but really, what are my chances of crawling back into bed at 5:08 in the morning for another 45 minutes of sleep?  What if he’s still snoring?

I make coffee.

The sky is already showing signs of light.  I love this time of year.   Longer days, warmer weather.  I just wish the fucking wind would die down a bit.  Believe it or not folks, we have a windy season here in Arizona and where we live it’s horrendous.   The style of our house is not exactly what one would call low profile.  The wind assaults out outer walls creating a low, never ending sub-sonic rumble.  It’s like we’re aboard a spaceship.

Fortunately it is no longer windy.  (OK, so I’m returning to this post more than a week after I started writing it so let’s fast-forward a bit.)  Summer is clearly on its way, the mesquite trees have a slight green hue to them and the sound of birds fill the morning air.  The coffee is kicking in and my senses are awakening!

We have a lot going on these next few days.  Tonight, an Evening with Patti LuPone and Mandy Patinkin–choreographed by Tony Award-winner Anne Reinkingin in Tucson (can’t wait!).   Tomorrow our friend Cathy is arriving from Chicago (and I’m going to rehearse a bit with my friend Renee for, you guessed it, Saturday karaoke).  Speaking of karaoke, on Friday I’m going to participate in a singing contest.  There is a fundraiser for the local homeless shelter.  It’s for charity so why not, right?  Wish me luck.  And then Sunday,  Steve Poltz is coming to town…well sort of.  Mr. Poltz is going to play at my friend’s house with like, sixty plus people which in the long run, is going to be way more fun and intimate.  But I digress…

The best part about the busy schedule is being able to get back to the gym.  Ray and I were in California last weekend so I’m jonesing for a good workout.  I’ve had the good fortune to be able to use the two gyms at Fort Huachuca with my buddy Eric.

Eric is former military, very muscular and he’s been acting as my personal trainer for free and I can’t thank him enough for the help he has given me.  I am very, very greatful for his assistance.  Not to mention, he’s a really nice person and fun to talk to–while he’s kicking my butt.

Since I started working out with Eric, I have seen improvement on my body (and I can hardly move a muscle until Wednesday).  I’ve always been trim and without definition.  Now things seem to be bulking up for me but I still have a long way to go.  (Of course the calorie-laden Marker’s Mark Manhattan isn’t exactly good for the diet so…I’m just going to say it’s a special whey protein drink.  With a sugary maraschino cherry in it.)

The photo was taken yesterday evening.  The pool was 88 degrees!  Summer is around the corner and that makes me very, very happy.

Next up, I have to work up a nice long ride on the motorcycle–after a long ass-kicking workout of course.

So a lot of Republicans are up in arms over the way Obama has been handling this whole financial crisis.  They’re asking people to join them as they “teabag America” .  This Republican movement is to “protest the colossal thievery going on in Washington.”  They’re asking that people send the Oval Office a Tea Bag, in honor of the Boston Tea Party that took place on December 16, 1773. 

Teabag America!

From UrabanDictionary.com 
tea-bag - Dipping your testicles into the open mouth of another person. Kind of like dipping a tea bag in and out of a cup of water.

Let’s watch Rachael Maddow (my secret girlfriend) do a segment on her show about this and while we’re at it, someone find an urban slang dictionary and send it to the GOP.

My friends Mark and Barry live in LA.  They own and operate L.A. Outback,  a small business importing and selling didgeridoos as well as other Australian instruments and artifacts.  Mark and I used to play in a band together many years ago and to Mark’s credit, he actually put up with me as a roommate for a while before I met Ray.  I can’t say enough good things about these guys.

Several years back, I visited Mark and Barry in LA.  They had recently befriended a dog that they named Dingo.  Now, I’m not really much of a pet person and dogs tend not to be high on my list of animals (because, in my humble opinion, people don’t discipline their dogs very well and not everyone likes some yappy/barky thing jumping all over them–but I digress).  Anyway, Dingo was not like a dog at all.  He was a person.  I adored him instantly.  Every once in a while, you come across a dog with a remarkable disposition and Dingo had it.  This dog literally expressed human-like facial expressions and just…hung out with us.  I adored him and I could tell that he had become “one of the boys” to Mark and Barry.  Dingo was very lucky to have such doting parents.

Over the years, Dingo has had his share of doggy mishaps.  He had to have some surgery on his knees (I guess dogs have knees–who knew?) and he even survived a rattlesnake bite–which trumps my black widow experience.  The other day I was talking to Mark on the phone and I could hear in his voice that, even though he said he was fine, something was eating at him.  Dingo had been diagnosed with canine lymphoma.

That even got me choked up–hell, I’m getting all teary-eyed writing this.

Mark had just returned from taking Dingo in for treatment.  I could tell that this was going to be a difficult journey.  I just wanted to transport myself through the phone lines and give my friends big bear hugs because I know how much Dingo means to them.  Barry had said, “It’s not like it just one of our dogs or a dog that you have but is kind of difficult but you take care of anyway.  It’s a family member and almost everyone who shops at our establishment knows who he is.”

Mark emailed me the other day.  Dingo has decided to blog about his journey through canine lymphoma.  I have added his site, Our Buddy Dingo to my blogroll.  I encourage you to read it.  I’m also going to ask a big favor of anyone reading this right now; please close your eyes and say a little prayer for our buddy Dingo and while you’re at it, put in a good word for Mark and Barry.  It doesn’t matter what belief system you subscribe to, just send my friends some good vibes.  Dingo is the coolest dog I have ever met.  When you read his blog, you’ll totally know what I’m talking about.

I believe in the power of collective positive thinking.  Let’s all try to help Dingo get throught this.

I’m sorry blog.  I’ve been cheating on you.  I’ve got this thing on the side with a site called Facebook.  At least you’re hearing it from me and not from someone in town.  Please try to understand.  It’s just that lately, I don’t really have anything worthwhile to say to you.  Facebook makes it so much easier to post random little expressions as opposed to taking the time to compose my thoughts into actual paragraphs.  With my schedule and your being so demanding with my time, I just had to go to a site that understood my needs.   Please don’t cry.  This isn’t easy for me either.   Hey, at least only my “friends” can see my posts.  It’s not like I’m flaunting this affair around town…no, please, I want people to keep reading you.  I need you.

When I was growing up, my mother had a plaque in the kitchen that read “The Hurrier I Go, The Behinder I Get.”  I never understood what that meant until I got older.   As you age, you begin to slow down.  Then a friend or family member dies and there is a harsh slap-in-the-face reminder that time is ticking away so you try to go faster.  It’s like speedballing.  No wonder it killed Belushi.

I want to compose music, write that screenplay, go to the gym more often, learn Italian…but my fucking job keeps getting in the way.

Holy shit!  I can’t believe I just typed that!

I love my job.   I love that I have a job…but I hate the passage of time occurring right before my eyes when I have so much more to do.  With the losses Ray and I have experienced these past few years,  I feel like I’m running as fast as I can hearing the Grim Reaper’s sickle swooshing right behind my head.  When Brooke died at forty-seven, it was like he got a chunk of my hair.

I got word yesterday that a woman I knew casually at work passed away from a brain tumor.  My first thought was, “Did she ever get to all the things she wanted to?”  Probably not.  The whole thing is kind of amplified by Brooke’s death.  I know she didn’t get to do everything she wanted because that’s all we talked about–the myriad things we wanted to experience before we died.

The key thing I guess, is to keep on going.  Stop focusing on time itself and keep practicing my guitar.  Keep going to the gym.  Keep trying to figure out how to get the music out of my head and into a song that I can share with others.  I’d rather people remember me as someone who died trying instead of someone who sat around thinking about it.