BIG Bad Bobby Blogs

I LOVE IT! WHAT IS IT?!?

noreply@blogger.com (BIG Bad Bob) — Sun, 03 May 2009 19:46:00 +0000

The minute I became a homeowner, I started to realize that this former city boy had better learn to do some of the minor repairs and renovations himself, or be willing to sacrifice a few perks and frills such as food and clothing. (Look at this, I put myself in the third party!) The cost of hiring people to do all this stuff is astronomical! But I'm sure you all know that, right?! One of the first things I tackled was installing louvered shutters. I got so good at it I wanted to put an ad in the paper. But even though I was becoming an ace at installing multiple hinges, there just weren't that many people using shutters any more, and even if I did all of them, I'd be finished and out of business in a week.
Just as I was becoming a little too cocky with the hinge thing, I had to repair and install new bedroom doors. Well that was a humbling experience. After ruining two doors, I finally got help from a neighbor and by the third door, with the shimming and the straightening and the leveling, I finally got one door up and managed to do the other two by myself. I couldn't return the first two doors, because I had too many holes in them, so not being wasteful, I found a use for them.
I called the wife to see the new innovative look and said, "Honey, come look at what I made for you." She stared at it and said, "That's really nice, honey…but why did you hang doors on the wall?" I said, "Can't you see the beauty of it, Hon? It'll be like a temporary divider between the living room and the dining room. You can open it to give the illusion of two separate rooms, and close it when we have a lot of people over." Her eyes were saying to me "That's nice, honey, but take them down!". "Honey please don't make me take them down, it took me hours to get them PLUMB!" She asked, "What does that mean, plumb?" "It means, straight, level, even,” I tell her. She asks, "Why can't you just say that?" "Because you can't, according to the handy-man's manual horizontal is LEVEL and vertical is PLUMB!" Now she's thinking "I should've never bought him that HANDY-MAN Repair manual" but her eyes are armor piercing and shouting "TAKE IT DOWN NOW!"
Soon after I paneled the living room, snaked a clogged sink, and thanks to the SATURDAY morning "HOW-TO" shows, found myself replacing my 5&10 cent store tools, with some of the semi-pro, SEARS variety. By the time I graduated to POWER tools, such as a circular saw, drill, power screwdriver, it was time to start work on my new deck.
I'm not kidding; I built a three level deck! Well, I didn't actually do it all by myself, but I learned by working side-by-side with a friend of mine. I couldn't have done it without him, and HIS power tools. But I learned by doing, and my confidence level was going through the roof. I was now ready to tackle those walls my wife has been trying to get me to take down for the last couple of years. Even she was confident in me! She was so thrilled with the results of all the work I was doing around the house, that on my last birthday she bought me a power miter saw. I freaked out! I am probably the only comedy writer in the tri-state area with his own power miter saw!
I paid her back by building her a wooden stoop, complete with multi-level planters, just in time for Mother's Day! The problem was that I became compulsive! Did you know that if you stain wood, any kind of wood, it can look like furniture? So I recycled all of the wood that was left from when I took down the walls, and built my wife an entertainment center for our basement. Then I made frames for my paintings, all with PERFECT MITERS! I was driving my family crazy and running out of things to build. One day we were at a friend’s house and he was showing us how he built laundry chutes for every room, using the spare ductwork that the central air conditioning guy left around. I looked at my wife and her eyes were saying "DON'T YOU DARE!"
My new motto is "WHY BUY IT, WHEN YOU CAN MAKE IT YOURSELF?!"
I just took some of that recycled wood, stained it and made something for the little woman. I hope she likes it. So I give it to her, she smiles and says, "Honey, I LOVE IT!", but her eyes are saying ...."WHAT IS IT?!?"

"DADDY-MAN!"

noreply@blogger.com (BIG Bad Bob) — Sun, 19 Apr 2009 18:33:00 +0000

What is it with us men? We develop an interest in the opposite sex while we're knee deep in pre-adolescence. Only we're too young to figure out how to deal with these urges. So when we see a girl we like, how do we let her know? By throwing things at her, calling her names, and pulling her hair. And if we really like her, we let her know by sitting across from her in the school cafeteria, filling our mouths with food and playing "look". At that age, we're so dumb that we think that their "E-E-E-W" is a sign of approval!
Then as we come bursting through our pimples and grow into adolescence, and our hormonal changes start us on our trek toward maturity, we begin to realize that we were doing it all wrong, and replace those previous tactics by carrying her books, walking her home from school, and buying her flowers. Instinctively we know that under all those zits, awaits a thing of beauty. We now begin to realize the meaning of that saying "You can catch more flies with honey than you can with vinegar". Nay, these are not flies! They are more like BUTTERFLIES, bursting forth from their CLEARASIL cocoons, and if we've learned anything we will tell her that she's beautiful. We will compliment her hair. We will start the courting process by taking her to dinner and NOT playing "LOOK"!
If we haven't found our "partner-for-life" by the time we get out of college, we're forced to go through that SINGLES BAR, "Hi do you live around here?...Do you come here often?...What sign are you?"...mating ritual thing!
If we follow the game plan set for us by some unseen weirdo who implants all of these statistics in our heads, through the use of EMBRYONIC-BRAIN-BRANDS, we will marry, have 2.5 children and buy a split level or cape in the Burbs. We will own two cars, a mini-van and a late model four door. (Two door models or sports cars are a no-no until the kids are out of high school!) And you will probably be a two-income family!
Here are some stats they don't tell you about: Once you are a home owner and a father, you are expected to become DADDY-MAN! Being DADDY-MAN is an important job. It means that you are all things to all of those within the confines of your family. It means that you are now in charge of rubbish removal, lawn care, home repair, and winterizing the house, to name a few!
We hear, "Hey Mom, the toilet's overflowing again. Wait, I know what to do, I'll call DADDY-MAN!" There were no "DADDY-MAN" courses in college. Instead, you'll be expected to be taking those early evening DO-IT-YOURSELF classes at HOME DEPOT! Especially after experiencing the trauma of your first PLUMBERS bill!
As the children continue to grow, things are constantly changing. Then one day you experience a sort of strange metamorphosis just as you're becoming comfortable with your paternal role. You wake up one morning to the sound of children screaming at your feet. They move away from you and don't want you to touch them. You look down seeking out the source of what's frightening them. Oh no! There it is....It's my foot! A combination of little claws and miniature cobble stones are replacing my toenails....Oh my God, I'm developing DADDY TOES! "EAGLE TALONS!" And the bottoms of both feet, have the consistency of roofing shingles! Oh Lord, now the further evolution of DADDY-MAN is kicking in and I'm doing that "Opening the top button on my trousers" thing, signaling the end of a good meal. Oh no, I've just called my pants TROUSERS. I've never done that. They were always pants, never TROUSERS! And now I've incorporated that PULL-MY-FINGER Daddy ploy into my daily routine! I'm actually going around conning my kids and their little friends into pulling my finger and when they protest at the result, I further insult their intelligence, by telling them that in some parts of the world, what I just did is considered a compliment! My kid says, "Oh yeah, why don't you tell that to the EPA when we turn you in?!"
There are times when it's not too advantageous to be DADDY-MAN. Like when you take those long rides to the cabin, or Grandma's house. As you're driving and trying to concentrate on the road, World War III is going on behind DADDY-MAN'S throbbing head. "Give me that. Mom said I could play with it!" "I wanna sit behind Daddy now. Mommy said I could!" "Are we there yet?" "Hey Dad, why is that red light flashing behind us?" "Yes I know Miss Officer, Ma'am! I couldn't help weaving in and out of traffic. The kids had their hands over my eyes so that I couldn't see them as they tried to pry a lollypop out of my hair. No I guess it wasn't very nice of them to make faces and obscene hand gestures at you. Well, hello! I thought you looked familiar. Yes I think I did sit across from you in the cafeteria. Yes I did play "look", and I grossed you out all through Junior High? I'm so sorry. Now that I'm an adult, I don't do those things anymore! Well nice to see you again after all these years. Thanks for the ticket and you have a nice day too!"
Our kids are very squeamish, and the wife and I don't believe in spankings, so whenever we wanted to keep our kids in line, we each took a mouthful of food, tapped them on their little shoulders and played "LOOK"! Ooh did they hate that! And "DADDY-MAN" strikes again....

"DON'T CALL ME, I'LL CALL YOU?"

noreply@blogger.com (BIG Bad Bob) — Sun, 15 Mar 2009 19:18:00 +0000

For years I wondered, how come I never hear from my friends? No one ever calls me! My home and business numbers are the same, and yet only my long-time clients and people I DON'T want to hear from are the only ones who call!
I get most of my business through word-of-mouth, but that's a long slow process. One day while making small talk with the wife, I ask her why she thinks I don't have more business, how come new people never call? She says "Maybe it's because you keep forgetting to hand out your cards at parties, or other social events....Or maybe it's because our phone is unlisted." "Oh come on, you know how much I value our privacy." She shakes her head and says, "Then why do you use our number for business? Why are you always complaining that no one ever calls??" I had no answer, she was right, it was like opening a pizza parlor and having an unpublished number, I was an idiot.
I hang up from the phone company with a feeling of accomplishment and anticipation. I can't remember the last time I saw my name in the phone book!..I wonder when it comes out? Now I wait. A half hour goes by, an hour, an hour and a half. Then it rings, "Hi honey, did you do it?" It's the wife. "Yes, it's exciting, but I've been waiting for a couple of hours and so far, you're the first caller." Then her mommy stuff starts surfacing, "Now come on Big Bob, no one knows you're listed yet, give it a chance." Just then, I get a beep from my call waiting. "Hold on Hon, I've got another call." when I get back, I tell her we were just approved, over the phone for a credit card. Another beep, now they want to give us a free estimate on cleaning our gutters and drains. By the time our conversation was over, we were offered two more pre-approved credit cards and were told that "You, Bob Paiva, are already a winner of a valuable prize and are eligible to win the GRAND PRIZE, all you have to do is come to Florida for the drawing!”
Now the deluge of calls never seems to stop. From morning 'til night! "We want to be your fuel oil company" or "If your chimney is dirty, for only $39.95, we'll come to your house and clean it for you!" "Okay, give me the $39.95 and you can clean the whole house for all I care." They hung up! Another call, now another guy wants to clean my gutters. He hangs up after I tell him to get his mind out of the gutter!
Before long, we go from a fairly normal social life, to one that has people taking a number like they do in the Butcher shops. There's a pathway worn into our carpeting from all the insurance people, carpet cleaners, kitchen resurfacing sales force and the guy from the "We want to be YOUR Oil company" leaves in a huff when I question him about charging ME for fuel, as it's supposed to be MY Fuel company. I wouldn't charge me. Boy did he have foul mouth after I FIRED HIM!
Now I've always been a "PEOPLE" person, but that's about to change. I'll be installing one of those "SKEET SPRINGS" so whenever anyone rings our bell and we don't want to talk to them, one of us will yell "PULL!" Also we'll be contacting the government and find out if we're eligible for the "JEHOVAH'S WITNESS PROTECTION PROGRAM!"

SQUARE FEET

noreply@blogger.com (BIG Bad Bob) — Sun, 22 Feb 2009 19:24:00 +0000

It was a mid-August Sunday morning, many years ago, when the Paiva family (me, the wife, daughter and mother-in-law) were sitting around the breakfast table reflecting on all of the things we'd managed to accomplish in the short nine months since moving into our new home. We'd installed a fireplace, paneled, painted the outside, landscaped, etc. There we were, sipping our coffee, still finding it hard to believe that we were "LAND BARONS!"
The wife and I are dreaming out loud as to how we could add rooms upstairs, enclose a portion of our patio to keep out the little beasties (Ah, yes! No more bugs in our burgers, ant-free corn on the cob, no floating gnats in our diet drinks!). We were intoxicated with the glee and merriment of new homeowners! There's no stopping us now; we'll build over the garage! I'm going mad, I tell you, mad!! But, however, after every statement, the elder statesman, the mother-in-law, breaks in with, "But won't that increase our taxes?!?", temporarily bursting our bubbles. But not for long! We can increase our hallway by extending our stoop, and install those long stained glass windows that we admired. Again she chimes in with, "But doesn't that cost a lot of money?" Now I inform the mother-in-law that there are two things of mine that you don't mess with...."My food"...and "My dreams".... and if she continues to do so, I will install a skeet-shoot-spring under her chair and yell "PULL!" So she throws out my food and raps me in my dreams with a wooden spoon.
At this point our daughter was bored stiff and asked if she could be excused and go play in the yard. "Sure honey, maybe mommy and daddy will come out and join you", figuring that the wife and I can do our dreaming outside, plus it'll give us the opportunity to survey the back forty of the "PAIVA-ROSA!" (Forty feet, not acres.) It will also give me a chance to stick the mother-in-law with the breakfast dishes and nurse the bump she gave me on my head!
I tell the wife how, if we use bi-fold doors and piano hinges, we could enclose the patio area, and fold it up in the winter when it's not in use. "As a matter of fact, why can't we use piano hinges on barn dormers upstairs, and fold them down when their not in use!" I ranted. Now my wife is looking at me as if I'm flirting with euphoric insanity. And from the kitchen window, the mother-in-law is bellowing, "The man is bonkers.... he’s trying to turn our beautiful house into a camper!" To tell you the truth, she was right. Even Rube Goldberg would agree with her on that one. Now more noise is emanating from the back window. "Why don't you come back to reality?" I answer the noise with, "Because reality costs too much! And besides, I'm a thinker...a creative person!" She fires back, "If you're so creative, why don't you figure out a way to fix our cracked stoop?" Here I am chasing windmills, and she's sending me to the store for a can of peas! My wife, the peacemaker, interrupts with, "My mom has a point. You're making all these plans, let's see what you can do with the stoop." I said, "What, me work with cement?...What do I know from cement?" But, they want the stoop fixed?..I'll get the stoop fixed. I spent the next day on the phone talking to contractors, trying to get estimates over the phone. The same question kept popping up. "How many square feet are we talkin' about?" they'd inquire. "How the heck do I know?" I'd respond. The only thing I knew about square feet was that Herman Munster had them on the end of his legs!
"Well Pal, I can't tell ya how much it'll cost, if I don't know how large your stoop is." I responded with, "Can't you give me a ballpark figure?" "It depends Pal. Are we talkin' Ebbets Field or Yankee Stadium here? I tell ya Johnny, there's no way'a tellin' ya over the phone! I gotta come see for myself!"
Soon the parade of contractors began. Dented, beat-up, vintage Buicks, Oldsmobiles and Chevy's...all with ladders strapped to their roofs, were pulling up to my door nightly. Men in work clothes, carrying clipboards, were throwing all kinds of numbers at us. "Well Mack and Mrs. Mack, it's gonna run ya anywhere from fifteen hundred to three thou to replace the stoop" they'd inform us. "And how much to just repair it?" we'd ask. "Fifteen hundred to three thou!" they'd fire back. Then the guy would look at me and say, "Look Mack, this aint 'Let's Make A Deal', and I aint 'Monte Hall'! Take it or leave it! I got plenty of work. I wouldn't be able to start work on your stoop until the beginin' of next summer anyway!"
I said, "This doesn't look like a 'LOVE CONNECTION', so why don't you do your talkin' walkin'?" (To myself) What I really said was, "Ya know 'MACK', being that you have so much work, I wouldn't want to add to your burden 'PAL' so THANKS but NO THANKS!"
I'm not the type that gives up easily and I fancy myself as somewhat of a bargain hunter, so I call up the guy who installed our fireplace and ask if he knew somebody! Not only did he know somebody, he said HE could do it, but first he asked "How many square feet?" (Again with the square feet) To which I replied, "Please don't ask me that question, I'm getting a headache!"
Twenty minutes later, a brand new car pulls up, he gets out wearing designer clothes and carrying a leather bound Gucci clipboard. He sizes up the situation, then informs me that he'd remove a portion of the existing stoop, apply a new surface and when he was done, it'll be a new stoop. He can begin work on it tomorrow and complete it in just two days and all for the price of THREE HUNDRED BUCKS!"
I gave him a deposit, we said our good nights and he left. I couldn't wait to get inside and gloat to the girls. A new stoop for three hundred smac-a-roos!
The two days he promised, turned into six weeks of driving up to an incomplete structure that was encased in what looked like the worlds largest sandwich bag (like who knew cement could go stale?), dry concrete footprints on our oriental carpet, plus several un-returned calls to the contractor.
On the first day of the seventh week we came home to discover that the clear plastic had been removed, and what was once a straight, but cracked stoop, had been transformed into the "Leaning-stoop-of Paiva!" My wife looked on in horror, but my daughter loved it. She thought we had built her her own custom made three-tiered slide! My mother-in-law looked at me and laughed then suggested we call the Olympic committee and rent it to them as a practice slope for down hill racers. With egg on my face, I called to complain only to find out that his phone had been disconnected and that he was out of business.
The moral of this story is, look for the contractors with the dented cars... they build straighter stoops! I gotta go now, it's starting to rain and I have to glue those little rubber flowers you put in the bathtub, on my steps. I wouldn't want anyone to slip and hurt themselves!

HOLIDAY ON ICE (PACKS!)

noreply@blogger.com (BIG Bad Bob) — Mon, 16 Feb 2009 20:09:00 +0000

My brand new neighbor is about to become a brand new parent, and asked ME what to expect. So I told him.
Being a parent is quite cool. At first you're in awe of the miracle of birth. Then you take the little tyke home and the fun begins. Mom's going to be understandably incapacitated for a while, so being a liberated male, you take care of most of the newborn’s needs (I drew the line at breast feeding).
Being new to this, ten minutes after the new addition is home, while you're wife is resting, you call the hospital to tell them that you have a defective baby! You'd like a replacement! This one leaks!....and it keeps throwing up on you!
Before long you start becoming a champ at playing with and bathing the new kid on the block, not to mention changing it's diapers. This last part has accomplished something that your mother couldn't. You are cleaning your nails and washing your hands on a regular basis! Boy, it just doesn't get any more paternal than this, does it? Oh great, it just spit up on my new shirt!
You manage to get through the "Honey it's crawling, it's pulling things off the table, I think it's trying to stand” stage. This is when that ignored advice, about child-proofing your house, that other people have been warning you about, kicks in! You begin at warp speed to barricade rooms, raise things to above shoulder height, and remove all breakable items from the coffee table. But not before you find your little dependant sitting on the floor, covered in chocolate, with your wife's favorite crystal candy dish broken under the table (not to mention the yodel juice all over my new NIKES!).
The next stage is "THE TERRIBLE TWO'S" through Pre-K! This is the time that any Dad worth his weight will do anything to entertain his kid and the friends, who are sitting on the grass while you become part of the birthday entertainment. You're jumping up and down, making weird noises, talking like GOOFY and DONALD DUCK, and acting like a real jerk. Meanwhile, the other kids are telling yours that they think dad should cut down on his coffee intake. "He just keeps jumping up and down, making weird noises, thinks he's a Disney character and keeps acting like a real jerk. He's like, scaring us, okay?"
Pretty soon you're kid gets involved in sports, so you're throwing the ball around with your kid, goal tending (which means you're being barraged with hockey pucks and soccer balls), or shooting baskets and going a little one-on-one with that new basketball hoop. (Forget that you had to call the fire department to get you off the garage roof when you were installing it.) You spend your afternoons playing with your kid and evenings soaking in a tub of Mineral Ice and Ben Gay! You went from being an athletic jock in your youth to being a test dummy for the local TRAUMA Center!
Still wanting to be a hero to your kid, you figure that you may be too sore to play, but you're not too sore to coach. So you take over coaching the baseball team. It doesn't take long before you have absolutely no friends left in the community. Not only are your kid’s teammates not talking to you, but neither are their parents!
You survive class trips to zoos, museums, circuses, hikes that come complete with mosquito bites and poison sumac, amusement park rollercoaster rides (where it's pay-back time and now you spit-up on your kid), and the ever popular "HOLIDAY ON ICE!" show. Here your kid looks up at you with those baby blues and says, "Dad, will you teach me how to ice skate?" "Oh sure, I'll teach you. I haven't even come close to my threshold of pain. In fact, why not have our own show? We can call it "HOLIDAY ON ICE-PACKS!”

THE FAMILY TRIP

noreply@blogger.com (BIG Bad Bob) — Sun, 01 Feb 2009 21:35:00 +0000

My life is a little too structured, but I do have these occasional explosions of spontaneity. So last September, when I came into the house and announced that we were going on a FAMILY TRIP upstate to see the leaves change into their autumn hues and maybe stop off to do some pumpkin and apple picking, the wife first sniffs my coffee cup to see if I've been into the hard cider. After realizing that I was of sound mind when I made this impulsive proclamation, she says, "The heck with the house work!" and soon we're heading north in the Cherokee!

"Where are we going, Dad?" asks the daughter. "Don't really know" answers the father. "We'll just keep heading north, take the back roads and see where they take us." My wife joins in the conversation with, "Isn't that kind of risky, honey?" "Maybe", I answer, "But so is anything worth anything in life." "Spare us the philosophy, Dad, and just keep driving!"
Now I'm parked on the side of the road. "Yes, officer, it is a lovely day." "No, I wasn't going to a fire." "No, I wasn't aware that the speed limit within the city is 15 miles per hour... in fact I wasn't aware that this was a city!" "No, I guess going five miles over the limit isn't very funny and no, I don't think that I'm Mario Andretti!"

"Daddy, why did he give you five traffic tickets?" "Answer her, Mario Andretti", the little woman chides. "It was bad enough when Dear Old Dad, asked him how Opie and Aunt Bea was, but when he called the officer "Barney Fife" he was lucky to get off with just FIVE citations!"

As we drive around, my wife suggests that maybe we should've waited a week or so, as the leaves are still green and we could've purchased a map of the area so we wouldn't be lost now. As far as I was concerned, we were on an adventure, and we weren't lost! My daughter said "Dad, there's no more road left, we're LOST!" I told my daughter that when you own a JEEP you make your own roads. She bought that until I ran over an animal trap of some kind while driving through the woods.

After changing the flat, I finally made my way back to a road and eventually found a little town with a diner. We all make up for lost time in the rest rooms, go back to our booth and order our food. We were so hungry we could've beaten out the Tasmanian Devil in a pie eating contest!

Well fed, we're beginning to get back to being ourselves, turning negatives into positives by laughing at the day's experiences. However, we are having to shout at each other in order to be heard. We soon discover the reason. The roar of over a dozen Harley's pulling into the diner's parking lot.

Soon the door bursts open and the diner's filled with Bikers! This six foot eight bearded building wearing a studded denim vest, over a way too small tank top is headed our way. Every one of his steps vibrates the glassware on our table. This is a man who samples every one of the major food groups on an hourly basis. In my mind the words "fee-fi-fo-fum" are accompanying each of his steps. If he comes over to our table, I won't let him intimidate me. I'll be a man and stand nose to nose trading insults like we used to do in New York City! I'll look him in the eyes and say things like, "If you eat a salad once in awhile, Tiny, maybe your belly would stay inside your jeans where it belongs!" Or, "Try putting some vowels to those grunts, and who knows, maybe you could actually form words!"

He stops at our table. I stand, the girls watching....I extend my hand and say, "Hi, my name is Bob, I love the vest!" He shakes my hand and smiles, then says "My name's Henry, this is my place and I see by that baby-size spare on your Jeep that one of my animal traps must've eaten your tire! I can't apologize enough. I have a couple of my guys setting you up with a full size tire from my gas station next door. Sorry about the inconvenience. The meals on me and as soon as they have the new tire on your Jeep, they'll escort you to the thruway so you can get home."

On the way home my daughter says, "It wasn't a total loss, Dad. The trees may not have turned colors yet, but your face sure did...several times as a matter of fact!"

TO SHOP..OR NOT TO SHOP! WHAT??

noreply@blogger.com (BIG Bad Bob) — Tue, 27 Jan 2009 01:01:00 +0000

One of my favorite forms of entertainment is shopping. I just found out that my wife DOESN’T like to shop! She’s got a closet full of shoes that says otherwise. It’s like I’m married to a centipede! THE WOMAN HAS SHOES!!!
So if you have all of these shoes and you don’t like shopping, where are they coming from, elves?? Geppetto?? She says, “Duh! I shop on line. I don’t like malls, they’re much too crowded!” I said, “You could’ve fooled me.” It turns out that after all these years, I’m the one who likes to shop at malls! She’s just tagging along!! I said, “Crowds never bother me!” She said, “It’s no wonder! Look at you... you’re built like a room divider! You just plow through them, or they see you coming and they move out of the way!”
Let me tell you something… the minute we enter a mall, she makes a bee-line to the shoe stores! Knowing that I don’t like to go in them, she hands me her bag (but not before taking out her credit cards!) and goes in. Now the first time she left me HOLDING THE BAG, I felt sort’a self-conscious, until I noticed other guys standing around holding handbags, too. At first I didn’t make eye contact, but what the heck… we all seemed to have something in common and before you know it we’re not only talking, but we begin comparing our wives handbags. “Is that leather??” “No, it’s pleather!” “Really! It sure looks like leather”. Pretty soon we’ll be trading recipes! Look at this..male bonding over ladies accessories! What’s next, showing each other our operation scars??
And another thing…so how come if she doesn’t like malls, she has her own rating system?? She rates each mall by the number of shoe stores they have. Okay, can somebody explain this to me?? To phrase it like Seinfeld….”WHAT’S THE DEAL WITH ALL THESE SHOES?? You only have two feet!! I have two pairs of sneakers, two pairs of dress shoes, and two pairs of boots and have to put them under the bed because she’s confiscated my part of the closet and turned it into a SHOE CONDO!! Do the math honey, all those shoes and only two feet! I don’t think that I’ve married an Alien.
Ladies, listen to BIG Bad Bob..PULEEZE! If you’re trying to impress your men……The last thing in the world we’re looking at IS YOUR FEET!!!

The Passing Of George Carlin

noreply@blogger.com (BIG Bad Bob) — Tue, 24 Jun 2008 11:17:00 +0000

THANKS FOR ALL THE LAUGHS GEORGE!! Jun 23, 2008

I woke up this morning to the terrible news of the passing of George Carlin. This man was, and still is one of my inspirations to write comedy. I know some of you didn't like the seven words you can't use bit that he did, but he was MUCH MORE THAN THAT! He was a trailblazer and courageous in comedy. Some of you might not know that he abandonded his traditional slick stand up that he did in clubs and Vegas, and took a leap into a new form of comedy that appealed to the younger, hipper rock and roll set! Off came the suit and tie, tuxedo and on on went the t-shirt and jeans. It was risky, but he made it happen big time!!
Before he made his conversion, even his earliler routines were classics...."The Hippy-Dippy Weatherman" for one, but that wasn't enough for him. He definitely wanted to push the envelope! He did, and we're better for it!
He was a thinking man's comic. He showed the world that it takes brains to do comedy. His oxymoron bit, was a classic..."JUMBO-shrimp!"
He was curious as to why white guys were shaving their heads. It looks great on black guys, ridculous on white guys...."If they wanted no hair" he said, "do what I did...WAIT!
He ws asked what he thought about the DOPE problem, his answer was "I think we definitely have TOO MANY DOPES!!
Even though I met him, the only time I ever worked with him was as a musician. Never when I was doing my comedy writing!
Our loss, is heavens gain! Make 'em laugh George!

You'll be missed!
Bob

MUSIC? COMEDY? BOTH?

noreply@blogger.com (BIG Bad Bob) — Tue, 17 Jun 2008 18:56:00 +0000

I've been blogging here for a while, and so far have had NO comments! So because of that....I'M GONNA keep blogging!! I'm not sure if you prefer my music or my comedy blogs. So I'm gonna keep doing BOTH!! I'm not sure if you'd want weekly blogs, monthly blogs, or NO BLOGS!! So I've decided to do WEEKLY BLOGS!! If you're not gonna read them...have someone read them to ya!! Why can't we all just get along? W-T-F- am I talking about? NOTHING!! I ain't talking...I'm WRITING! If any of this is making any sense, then you're in bigger TROUBLE than I am! So in conclusion...READ THE DAMN BLOGS!!!! pleeezzee!
Sorry if I'm sounding kinda cranky, but I'm haveing a BAD HAIR DAY and I'm lookin' fer someone to jump on my belly. I have a gas bubble and could use the relief!
Don't make me start writing lymrics.
Thank you
BIG Bad Bob!
It's time for my nap!

DOO WOP! GOLDEN OLDIES!

noreply@blogger.com (BIG Bad Bob) — Fri, 16 May 2008 00:15:00 +0000

I am often asked how I feel about DOO WOP? Why? Because I was fortunate enough to be exposed to that music before they were golden oldies! My uncle was a diehard fan and dragged me, when I was a little boy, to see them perform in monumental holiday shows at the New York Paramount, Brooklyn Paramount and Brooklyn Fox.
In later years, after I became a professional musician, I got to hang out backstage with some of them. I went even further then that. My group at the time, The Jewels, backed many of them live when we were on the same bill. Let me tell you something, they put on some terrific shows and were very talented. The sad thing is that most of the money they generated didn’t go to them, but to their greedy management. So, what happened to them? Where did they go?
After The Beatles and the English invasion, where could they go?? Where they went and what they did was to try to keep working, wherever and however they could. When the going gets tough, the tough get going!! Keep in mind that most of them started out on street corners and under highway overpasses and in subway stations, any place that could generate echoes. Also keep in mind that most of them were self taught and came up with some phenomenal harmonies acapella. They couldn’t afford instruments, or to hire backup bands, so they became their own backup band, with their ooh-ahh harmonies.
They were and still are ingenious. They had such a great following that they kept playing, and their loyal fans supported them. My problem was why they never progressed with some new music. Dion left the Belmont’s, went solo with “Abraham, Martin and John”, and by doing that kept the memory of Dion and the Belmont’s alive! Johnny Maestro left The Crests to start The Brooklyn Bridge with their hit “The Worst That Could Happen” and still leads the charge for all of his Doo Wop peers. But what you don’t know is that he worked for many years at the Peppermint Lounge, as Johnny Maestro and The Crests!
Back in the 90’s a lot of the “boy bands” emerged using some of the same type of harmonies, to mass appeal. Sometimes you have to change with the times to survive and I wish that they had. I kept myself working by moving from my first love, jazz, to R&B, to rock and production rock! I’d love to see some of these older groups re-emerge with some new music, with their old flare. Now with the advent of podcasting, you can produce and own all of your own music and sell it on the internet, in a way becoming an older version of the indie groups! You can charge for downloads or burn some of your own CD’s. KEEP THE FLAME BURNING…DON’T LET IT BURN OUT! There are a lot of younger, talented replacement singers out there, to fill in the gaps and keep this music alive!! Go for it!!

MAKE THE SCREAMING STOP!!

noreply@blogger.com (BIG Bad Bob) — Sun, 16 Mar 2008 19:41:00 +0000

At the end of a hectic day my family likes to eat our dinner together in the living room and watch the news and or Jeopardy. Then while chomping on our food, this chia-faced guy with a LEE press-on beard and a boom-box mouth bursts into our living room screaming..."HI, I'M BILLY MAY AND I WANT TO TELL YOU ABOUT KABOOM!" It so startles us that peas come shooting out of our mouths...the cat shoots up off the floor inflated like a furry blowfish and it sets off the alarm in my car that's parked in the garage....This is the same guy who in another commercial, puts fish hooks in the wall and shows you how to hang pictures from them! I don't know how to break it to ya Billy...You don't have to shout..YOU GOT THE JOB! By the time the commercial is over there isn't a dry pair of pants in the house!
And as if it isn't enough to put up with the music on the elevator...now you have a six hundred pound gorilla trying to sell you a retirement plan ON that elevator! Don't even get me started on that annoying "AFLAC DUCK!" trying to sell you insurance. His competition?? an upright GECKO with an austrailian accent also trying to sell you insurance followed by those so easy a caveman can do it guys! What is this "ANIMAL PLANET??" HAVE YOU MET ME??
Send me an agent who doesn't need his cage or cave cleaned out twice a day wearing an off the rack suit...Him I can deal with! I must admit that I do on occasion miss the Taco-Bell chihuahua! But come on guys... let's put the KABASH ON THE KABOOM!!! KAY???

THERE’S NO BUSINESS LIKE SHOE BUSINESS

noreply@blogger.com (BIG Bad Bob) — Thu, 28 Feb 2008 00:09:00 +0000

I'm not one to watch award shows, even though I judged "THE CABLE ACE AWARDS" for a couple of years. At no time during that orientation was I asked to judge what the nominees were going to wear on award night.
Actors, and show people in general, work very hard and put in many hours to try and bring you great entertainment. So when they are nominated for an Oscar, a Tony or an Emmy, it's an opportunity for us to show appreciation for their work.....NOT for how they dress in public, but for their WORK!!
And work it is. And let's not forget the years it took them to get there! In most cases when the envelope is opened and their names are announced...it comes as a total shock to them. They may babble their acceptance speeches, probably because they didn't think they'd win...and even if they did, actors read from scripts...they're told what to say...so they babble a little...they're excited...SO WHAT!! Cut them some slack for cryin' out loud. Let them enjoy the moment. What do you want the Academy to do, install SKEET-SPRINGS at the podium and when they run over, yell “PULL”?!?! Yeah, I know it drags a little and maybe they should teach Acceptance 101 at acting school, but until they do let them enjoy!
Now the one thing I REALLY don't like are the criticisms on what they're wearing! WHAT THE HECK DOES THAT HAVE TO DO WITH THEIR TALENT???? "Oh this one didn't look good in that dress!” and “Did you see those hideous shoes???” Just when the heck did this become SHOE BUSINESS?!?!? The next day, when you pick up the paper or watch the news, it's "WHO WORE WHAT" instead of "WHO WON WHAT"! Don't get me wrong, I think it's a great vehicle for designers to showcase their stuff, but remember most of those winners would look good even in gunny-sacks! I think that they are ALL beautiful! Again, to all you Fashionistas, YOU should look so good!

ESCAPING REALITY

noreply@blogger.com (BIG Bad Bob) — Sat, 23 Feb 2008 19:55:00 +0000

A couple of years ago, ."REALITY TELEVISION" hit the scene. WHAT'S UP WITH THAT? AND people bought into it!. What's up with that????
At the end of the day I turn on the TV to escape reality, not to enter into someone else’s!! I want sports, dramas, sitcoms, politics....You know.."FICTION"...Not REALITY!! I don't need to see some apparently "abnormals" sucking on scorpions or slugs, WHILE I'M EATING YET! I also don't need to see them sleeping in make-shift tents! If I wanted that I would've stayed in the Boy Scouts! They consider themselves fortunate if they catch a snake. I don't know, maybe it's just me, but I see a snake......I'm outa there. Then not only do they cook it...they EAT IT! What's up with that! I know they say that snakes taste like chicken!.... NO.....CHICKEN TASTES LIKE CHICKEN! That's why they call it CHICKEN!!! SNAKE tastes like "SNAKE"...Do the math!
Just give me some good old fashioned fiction. Okay CSI, Bones, Crossing Jordan, cutting peoples heads open and playing with their brains, I can sorta tolerate that....cause it's not real..it's Fiction....(At least I hope it's fiction) Yuck! Those shows are a form of escapism. All the other shows: The Big Race, Big Brother, the so called "TALENT" shows, reality shows in general...JUST TOO MANY!! I do have to admit that AMERICAN IDOL gives a platform to some really talented people and produced Rueben and others, not to forget super stars Kelly Clarkson and Carrie Underwood. That was a good thing, but I found the remarks and criticisms made by "Simon CRUEL" TO BE MEAN AND UNNECESSARY! These are things you say to people behind closed doors. Not for public embarrassment! Sadly, a lot of people were watching to see these performers fall on their faces, instead of how good they were. How sad.
The real casualties however are all of the talented performers, writers, directors, waiting in the wings to mount some new shows, but it's cheaper and I do mean cheaper to produce reality shows.
To me it's like a low budget cowboy movie, where you use real bullets and only have to pay the survivors! So what's the next move "SPIN-OFFS?" The Food Network's "COOKING CRICKETS WITH CARL!".....Or how about The Game channel's LET'S TAKE A CHANCE....Where members of the audience are forced to eat wild mushrooms without knowing if they're poisonous. The winners get to rummage through the losers pockets and keep what they find.....Then they spin the wheel to see who has to bury them in the parking lot! And the Discovery Channel showing several ways that you can make HAIR GEL out of WILD MOOSE slobber. As Rachael would say....."YUMM-O!"

INDIE GROUPS

noreply@blogger.com (BIG Bad Bob) — Thu, 14 Feb 2008 00:19:00 +0000

There was a time when, if bands wanted to make it in the music business, they worked hard on creating their own original music in the hopes of gaining interest from the record companies. You had to if you wanted to have a record...and a career in music! It was the only game in town....but not anymore! BUT NOT ANY MORE!! What happened?? Computers, that's what happened... the "Internet".
Before the internet, record companies would send out their scouts looking for fresh new talent and when they found you, they'd sell you a bill of goods, saying things like they love your sound! If you sign with them, they'll make you the next Stones, Beatles, Aerosmith..etc. And you'd be thinking..we don't want to be them... we want to be"US"! But you didn't want to say it out loud, for fear that you might queer the deal. So you'd trust them..and ALL along they're telling you how great you are...Then you'd get into the studio and one of the first things the producer did was to change your music around to suit him! But when you're new you don't say anything because you don't wanna "QUEER THE DEAL"! So you wound up with product that sometimes didn't come close to resembling your style, but you shut up and didn't say anything because you're new and you don't want to "QUEER THE DEAL"!!
They'd release your recording, give it a little promotion and if the thing didn't take off right away... they'd back off and let it die a slow death... What happened to all those promises? I listened to you and signed away our songs... I was a good little indian and didn't speak up when I should have...and some how, the DEAL GOT QUEERED!!
Now, thanks to the internet, bands are able to build a following and take charge of their OWN business. They can burn their own cd's, do their own art work or hire someone to do it for them, take control of their own destiny and market themselves online. They've created an important arm of the music industry called "INDIES"!!! Independant groups, performers and even movies! If you did the research you'd proably be shocked at how many of your favorite groups are "Indies"! Their music gets played on online Podcasts, can be downloaded, for a price, from their own websites....and eventually sold in record stores... Great isn't it??
Nowadays, since bands have to supply their own followers and fans to play out, they have a built in audience... Cool huh? So in many ways they are in control of their own fate...AT LAST!! And don't steal their music...pay for the download! They worked hard and deserve their just due. If this is news to you, and you'd like to hear an example of an "indie" podcast....try www.clickcaster.com/jammnjay ...who in my not-so-humble opinion has one of the best eclectic mixes from across the country and around the world. Check it OUT!!

THE CLUB SCENE – THEN AND NOW

noreply@blogger.com (BIG Bad Bob) — Sun, 10 Feb 2008 17:16:00 +0000

I used to sneak into jazz clubs when I was underage…not to drink, but to check out the drummers and the music. I was constantly amazed at how the musicians were of different ethnicities and varied ages. They ranged in age from late teens to sometimes their 70’s, or even 80’s! Whether it was big bands or small groups, the age mixture made for great music!! If you were lucky enough to sit close to them, they would gladly talk to you and answer any questions you had…and even encourage you. When I was old enough I jumped into the mix. I was drumming with some of the people I used to watch. Then when I converted to Rock and Rhythm and Blues, I thought that would never happen again…but I was wrong. It happened in not only New York, but Chicago, Boston, Toronto, New Orleans…Wherever great music was being played. When I played in New York clubs, we would do our regular sets and when things would slow down at the end of the night, musicians would meander in and bring their axes on stage and join in the fun. The famous, the not so famous, the young, the not so young…Jazz players, Blues players, Rockers….and we would cook!! It was an AGELESS MUSICAL LEAGUE OF NATIONS!! And…we got paid to play!!
Many years after leaving my group, I was called by our bass player who wanted me to start playing again. I thought about it for awhile, imagining us doing concerts again, and finding a little out of the way club in the Village where we could play some blues at least one night a week, and maybe have some younger dudes sit next us one of us and ask us some questions. So after contacting some of the others, I bought a set of drums and four out of the original six reformed our band! So once we were set, I figured, as in the past, I’d just have to call some clubs and get the ball rolling. Boy was I wrong!! The only club that responded favorably was the BOTTOMLINE (who remembered us well), and they were about to lose their lease! All the rest of them were being run buy rude, snot-nosed, know-nothings who didn’t care who we were and lacked a lot of respect! Now, all that seemed to matter was how many bodies you can bring into their clubs. Back when I left the group, we were a concert act playing in such venues as The Fillmore East, The Schaeffer Festival in Central Park, etc., and the clubs controlled who their crowds were and supplied the audience. They chose musical groups by how good they were, and if their club steadies liked them. When I worked these clubs you auditioned, and if you didn’t cut it, you didn’t get the gig. In the city there were as many as two bands a night. If you clicked you worked six nights a week. It was good steady money that improved as you got better. Not to mention that YOU improved as a musician. It was forced practicing. First you started with a two week booking, and as you got better so did the money. Your goal was to headline. It would go from a two week booking, to a two month booking. They kept bringing you back, as long as the crowds kept coming. You had constant exposure to managers, booking agents, and record companies. The clubs gave you every opportunity to improve yourself. A bonus was you didn’t have to break your instruments down every night. When I see what bands now have to go through today, I feel for them…BIG TIME!! Now, regardless of how good, or not so good, you are, YOU must guarantee the club owner that you will bring a minimum audience of 30 people with you! (They don’t even ask to hear your music!) And HE will allow you to keep anywhere from $1 to $5 from the admission charged at the door! Meanwhile, HE is raking in tons of money from the bar that you see none of! Forget about being paid.

MUSIC!! MUSIC!! MUSIC!!

noreply@blogger.com (BIG Bad Bob) — Sat, 02 Feb 2008 21:40:00 +0000

I've been blogging for a little while now, and it occurred to me that not one of my blogs has focused on music...... So if you're interested, or even if you're not interested, here's the first of my music blogs..... Even though I spent most of my life in music, those rumors that were circulating that I once jammed with John Phillip Sousa were bogus....I haven't been around quite that long....But he did have a back-stage pass! I've played Jazz, (small group and big band) and have overcome the snobbery that went with that.....R&B...Rock, and every type of ethnic music you can imagine..... I went from tuxes and suits to jeans and the fuzzy-do you see in my photo....Yes folks I was a six foot one brunette dandelion..... Now, however, to cut down on wind resistance on the treadmill, I shaved it all off!! So while people are combing, primping and blow drying their hair...I simply take out a can of Old English, and polish my head!
The reason that I even bring this up is that some people tended to judge your music by what you were wearing instead of what you were playing. I never got that memo, so when I wore a tank top while drumming, I wasn't trying to be sexy, I was trying not to be stinky!! I didn't want the sea-gulls circling while I drummed!!! (If ya get my drift!) I was being called enough names....didn't want to add "STINKY BOBBY" to the mix!! With me it was always about the music! Either the music was good..or it was bad.. Also it was a matter of taste... and I don't cling to the past, my clothes do....But that's another story. Wow there's SO much great new music out there and great new artists, we should at the very least give them a shot! Clinging to the past makes you go backwards. Me I like forward motion.... Keeps ya young!!! If you'd like to view some of my musical history go to www.freeflowingsalt.com ..it's a TRIP!!
Oh by the way...the "BOYS" downtown, (I think you know who I'm talking about) are calling me "BOBBY BLOGS!!" That's what they wanna call me, who am I to argue?? So from now on, I'll be doing "BIG BAD BOBBY BLOGS! veRY sCaRy!
In future blogs I'll try to cover different types of music and platforms... My next music blog will cover Bands on line...Podcasting.
Love to hear from you!! Comments welcomed!!

PEOPLE PROOF PRODUCTS

noreply@blogger.com (BIG Bad Bob) — Sat, 02 Feb 2008 21:29:00 +0000

Have you ever tried opening anything with those plastic seals? Batteries, beverages, faucets, new door knobs, DVD’s or that great CD you just bought that you can’t wait to hear. You run home, rip open the bag and attempt to open your prize. Then you find yourself rolling around on the floor trying to get at it! You try scissors, knives, razor blades and end up gnawing on it with your teeth…but to no avail. I WANT MY MUSIC!!
And the list of such items is endless. Cereal boxes, cat food boxes, cat litter boxes…Just pull this easy opening tab!!! There’s nothing easy opening about it!! You pull the tab, and get about a third of the way and it tears off. So you dig your finger under it and try to pry it open, thus completely screwing up the re-closable tab, leading to geeking and cannibalizing the box…not to mention the numerous paper cuts you receive.
Your online gift arrives, and the box is all banged up and crushed. You’re anxious to open it and check for damages, but try as you may, you can’t. You claw, you bite, you pull…but nothing short of power tools and the JAWS OF LIFE can get through that plastic tape and help you to succeed!!
PEOPLE… if we can’t get at them, we can’t use them. DO THE MATH!! You package them safely so nothing can damage them, or get at them. So here’s a flash…that doesn’t include us!!! We buy these products because we want them, and if we can’t get at them, we CAN’T USE THEM!!! Pay attention, manufacturers! Do you have a filter missing or something?? Plastic packaging it the DEVIL’S TOOL!!
This blog is over because I have to gather all of our outdoor furniture, umbrellas and stuff from around the pool, garden, back patio and store it for the winter.
This year, because we ran out of room in our garage, I’ve hired a service that comes to your house, piles everything in one place, and SHRINK WRAPS IT IN PLASTIC!! OOPS!!! I don’t think I was supposed to tell you that!! (DELETE, DELETE) J

CELL PHONIES

noreply@blogger.com (BIG Bad Bob) — Fri, 01 Feb 2008 02:01:00 +0000

Don’t get me started on CELL PHONES! Years ago I was one of the first to get one. I thought it was great. Still do. For business and safety reasons I think everyone should have one. I have two! BUT I don’t abuse them.
When I get a call, I find a secluded spot and continue my conversation in a NORMAL phone voice and volume. I don’t want to annoy people, or share my business with anyone else! My business is none of their business!!
When YOU get a call on your cell phone, we can ALL hear you! They’re CELL PHONES, not BULL-HORNS! PEOPLE…keep your business to yourself! I have my own problems. I don’t need to be HEARING YOURS!! When you get a call at home, you don’t open your windows and SHOUT as loud as you can so that you neighbors can listen in, do you?
And why do you feel the need to constantly USE your cells in malls, on sidewalks, on trains and worst of all while DRIVING in your CAR!! Here’s a flash…you’re not supposed to stop in the middle of the road, every time you change a thought! Look in your rearview mirror you’re HOLDING UP TRAFFIC!! Plus…IT’S ILLEGAL!! FYI…there are pocket devises WE can buy to jam your cell phones. We shouldn’t need them. Have some consideration for others. If not, I’LL JAM YOUR CELL PHONES FOR YA!!!