Tuesday, September 26, 2006


Well, it would seem that the pirate weekend at the Renaissance Faire was a big success. I am just here to try to post photos, so lets see how it goes!

Tuesday, September 19, 2006

Happy 44 Hours?

Was that all it was?

My goodness, it was quite a spin, wasn't it, me boyos? I left work for Happy Hour at about 5 pm on Friday, like most of the workforce in a nation seized by terror, and yet did not return to said safe and happy domicile until 11 am on Sunday morning! What am I, back in college?

Well, it sure felt that way, as a small hordeling (moblette?) of my college friends were in town for some big trip or another. Some of these boys I haven't seen in 10 years, some in 15. When planning my little trip to hook up with them, I left everything open, and figured I would get there, chat a little bit, find we had grown too far apart, and head back home, a little sad, but still alright.

Well, true believers, get on the phone right now and start tracking down every maniac you ever went to school with, because in doing so, you will ensure yourself one of the times of your life! We fell right back into old (terrible) habits by night, and by day we talked about every topic on the planet that you could think of.

Washington DC is so wonderfully conducive to ths kind of activity. Again, we spent the days visiting monuments both inspiring and mortifying, and by night, we celebrated our own lives and accomplishments.

Yes, accomplishments. For although we did not fight any of the Great Wars, or dedicate a nation in perpetuity at Gettysburg nor did we ratify anyone's Constitution, still, we had accomplishments. We made a connection in this world to each other, one that has stood a test of time, and had reunited US to a common purpose. What higher goal can there be on this planet than to make a bond with another human being, no matter how much you differ in mindset, energy, interests, whatever? It was amazing to see this energy in action, feed it, watch it grow beyond yourself, beyond the Irish Car Bomb and the random flirty skirt.

We drank, we did little dances, we celebrated marriages, mourned divorces, told our stories over and over again, and sang loudly and into the night.

We were friends, nay, we were more than friends, we were brothers in the true spirit of the word. Thank you gentlemen, and I am looking forward to doing this again in another fifteen years. Perhaps sooner.

Thursday, September 14, 2006

Fight the Power (of words?)

So, we all kind of know that words have power, and that the pen is mightier than the sword. We also kind of know that there are "good" words and that there are "bad" words.

For Example:
Good: Perspicacity, Fellatio, Snuggle, Flapjack, Rockabilly
Bad: Nigger, Cunt, White Trash, Fuck, Wop

I imagine that there was some reaction in you to both the "good" words and the "bad" words. Perhaps some kind of visceral response, conjuring various images in your mind. What I mean to ask you is this: how many of those images were of tasty snacks?

Hopefully not many. Yesterday a lovely young lady sent me an IM asking "Do you know what White Trash is?" I thought it was the set up for a joke, and I braced myself for some low brow humor. It took be by surprise, as low brow is in no way how I would describe this particular friend. She is of the highest of all brows, so what gives?

Upon further conversation, I finally grokked that she was simply asking if I ever had the snack treat called "White Trash" before, which is apparently some form of white chocolate covered trail mix. I wasn't sure how I felt about all of this, and I still don't, hence the blogging. At first, I was a little bothered by the fact that there was a common usage for what is essentially a racial slur against whitey. I mean, it isn't like I am going to locomote across to the local purveyour of tasty comestibles and procure myself a satchel of "Spicks" or obtain for myself in moments of hunger some Swedish Fish and a modicum of "Chinks". Here was further evidence that it was "okay" to denigrate white people, to the point of naming snack treats with racial epithets.

Then I remembered a recent cocktail party that I went to, where another good friend and frequent Robbyblog poster was furthering his campaign to "Take back the C-Word", and had convinced his friends that cunt was just another word, and could be used freely and even jovially. I still cringe whenever I hear it, and can barely bring myself to type it, but I think it is important to the post. That particular word holds lots of power for me, and no matter how much booze I had in me, I couldn't bring myself (regardless of the prodding) to liberally shout "Hey Cunt, can you play that George Washington Video again?". Somehow it just didn't seem right. :)

But again, do the words have the power. It was only MY giving the words White Trash power to be (see, I even capitalized them!) a racial slur that kept my usual witty IM banter from flowing freely like a mountain spring. Did I, happy go lucky Robbyblog, bring that hate to the table? Maybe there is some reverse engineering that can be done with words like this. If we can take "cracker" from being a term to describe a cheese conveyance to a racial slur, can we go the other way with White Trash (capitalized this time for the brand name)? Perhaps if there was a Nigger candy bar, or the Wop became a new dance craze, those words would cease to have negative connotations for folk, and be reintroduced to our society as the harmless words that they actually are.

After all, ANOTHER of my internet girlfriends said that if there was a snack called "Cunts", she would eat a dozen.....or something like that.

Thursday, September 07, 2006


Don't judge a blog by its title, I always say. Is that truly what I always say, or is that just what I say when I have no pithey title for my entries?

Regardless, I have some news and updates. First off, the farm was the absolute treasure that I hoped it would be. M&K have the most lovely 250 acres of land you have ever seen. I successfully cleared my head, and, well, successfully "reconnected" with the Goodely (wink, wink...nudge nudge). All of this was seriously overdue, but all paid back with interest. It was a little tough to return to the Clutterhut that is our own domicile, but I have returned with a renewed sense of domesticity and perhaps some housework initiative.

In other news and updates, I have lost 20 pounds on weight watchers, thus reaching my 10% goal. I weigh in at a lovely 175.5 pounds, and have set my new goal at a muscular 170. I feel the beginnings of the daffodil bulbs of my abdominal muscles ready to poke through the heavily laden snowfall that is my last remaining belly fat at the fist signs of fitness spring. Even if you discounted (which you better not) all the health benefits of this huge undertaking, the psychological implications are even more relevant and helpful to me.

I have learned, in this arena, discipline without sacrifice. I can watch what I eat, and not feel like I am "giving up" anything. This is an important lesson, as I always saw any attempts at discipline (except yellow, of course) involving nothing but sacrifice and giving up things that I enjoy. This is not the case in the Weight Watchers, and I have had Guiness, Cheesecake, ice Cream, etc. yum, yum, yummy yummy yum yum yum!

Also, finishing anything or sticking to a plan of any kind has never been my long suit. I like to think that this makes me dynamic and multifaceted, but mostly it makes me sloppy and ill-initiatived. Well, look at Bob & Lorraine's youngest now....20 frickin' pounds, bitches! That is no small amount of sticktoitiveness, if you don't mind my saying. (which you better not).