The Writing on the Wall

Last night, I went to see a throw-down, knock-out blues band at a cool club. I noticed this saying scribbled on the wall of the joint after I moved my seat:

Love like you've never been hurt
Work like you don't need the money
Dance like there is nobody watching...

That pretty much sums it up

Crunching the Numbers

Hi. My name is Rob. I'm 6ft. tall and 235lbs. I'm 37 years old. I've lived in Gainesville off and on for 19 years. I have 10 fingers and 10 toes. What am I getting at? Numbers. Digits. Numeric representations of who we are and what makes us tick. Sitting in a football stadium with 90,000 people makes me tick. Bowling a 200 game makes me tick. Turning 38...ticks me off. The funny thing is that people use numbers to represent themselves everyday, but subliminally we round up and down. I do it and so do you so quit lying to yourself. For example, ever notice that there are no 5' 5" people walking the earth? You are either 5' 4" (petite) or 5' 6" (average), no in betweens. Your salary is always rounded up. Weight is always rounded down. Shoe size for women - down, men - up. Any to do with exercise - up. Anything to do with drinking beer - up. Age? I think you know that one. The younger you feel, the older number you want to be, but the older you feel, the younger number is your goal. I don't know about you, but I'm going to go run 13 miles (in my size 12 shoe), do 234 pushups and drink a dozen beers. That's all my 6' 2", 210lb, 35 year old body can take.

Vacation...Have to Get Away

"We got to get out of this place, if it's the last thing we ever do..." The Animals

Sometimes, you just got to go somewhere. But, before you leave your place, you need to pack a suitcase (or three). Packing is an art form. It's like watching my Dad try to fit 17 bags of groceries and a bushel of firewood into a trunk of a '67 GTO. Poetry in motion. However, the suitcase is an enigma and a riddle wrapped up inside a fortune cookie. What to bring? Actually, it's what not to bring!!! I mastered the business travel packing, however leisure packing presents a puzzling dilemma. Casual vs. formal, shorts vs. khakis, shirts vs skins and so on. Then there is always one person who says "Pack you bathing suit. It doesn't take up much space!!!"...and you never go swimming. The most difficult decision one can make is what I call THE UNDERWEAR RATIO. Here's the math. Take the number of days on vacation, add the number 3 and multiply by the number of lunges you plan on executing to work off the excess "waiting for the airplane so I'll grab a Cinnabon and a Orange Julius" weight. The stupid thing about packing is that YOU ALWAYS FORGET SOMETHING!!!! A tie, black socks, belt, toothbrush, lens solution have all escaped my travels. Of course, you only remember when you're about to put on your suit or brush your teeth (or brush your suit). I'm packing tomorrow and I have more than enough shirts picked out. I'll sleep on the decision of what shirt makes the trip. Some will be left behind while others will get to experience a weekend of adventure. The most important clothes needed for the trip are the travel clothes (you know, the ones actually on your back on the airplane, car ride or when you hitch hike). If you look disheveled, a quick date with the security officer with the big wand. If you look somewhat decent, free drinks at the Crown Room. Wear a tie, you get to inspect other people's luggage.

Eight Ball, Corner Pocket

I am a juggler. Not a great juggler mind you, but a juggler nonetheless. I can juggle 3 objects of the same and different sizes. I started practicing with billiard balls 12 years ago when I was a desk assistant at a residence facility on campus. I had loads of free time when I worked overnights, so I juggled. During the early stages of juggling billiard balls, I realized it was a stupid idea. Why? Well...when I screwed up, two things happened. It either provided a large pain in my knuckles when I missed or it gave a large bang when they collided and smashed onto the desk. I struggled, but kept up my good cheer. The best way to practice is to face a wall. It helps you keep the balls away from you at the correct distance. Nowadays, I'll find myself juggling tennis balls, apples and whatever I can get my hands on...except chain saws and anything with FIRE. I'm also juggling work, personal and financial stuff. It makes billiard balls look like silky doilies prancing from hand to hand. Sometimes, these balls juggle me. Not cool. That means stress. Never been a big fan of stress, but it's hard for me to avoid. That's why I'm taking a few days off for siesta this weekend. Yippee. I can't wait. A little detox to get the engines roaring for my big day on Tuesday (wish me luck). This weekend is about adventure and going on maneuvers. Never heard of maneuvers, heh? Well, it's my catch phrase of experiencing some new things in life with gusto and wreckless abandon. Sounds far fetched, but a little bit of exploration is very stimulating and soothing. I can't wait. Go grab some for yourself....

Oh Boy! Celluloid!

Movies, Movies. Movies. Thumbs up and down. I'm thinking about starting an insurance company that has a copay for concession snacks. You pay $3 and my business will pay $2 for the vat 'o popcorn. Speaking of Orville Reddenbacher, shouldn't they partner up with Oral B? I'd buy several tubs (ironic name for fatty buttery popcorn) if there happens to be floss glued to the 'corn vessel...but I digress...Went to see a flick tonight with a host of peeps. I have several rules when it comes to movie going, so sit back and listen:

1. Being late for a movie is not an option. The same film is on 34 screens for every fifteen minutes in the summer. You can't be on time for that? Just pick a time and arrive 20 minutes earlier. Simple. End of discussion. Nothing sucks more than getting that front seat where you have to take out your contact lenses to watch.

2. Previews cannot be missed. It is your god given right to watch these snippets of what could be pure drivel or just another Jackie Chan shoot-em-up. Talking is still allowed at this time and encouraged. Making fun of the next Ice Cube crap fest gets you mega points.

3. Shut up and turn off your stupid phone. There are 17,234 announcements before the film to silence your Moto. Tonight, the jackass next to me not only didn't turn off his phone, but proceeded to examine the caller ID to find out if Screech called. He then put it on vibrate and got another call later. Jackass...but I digress...

4. It is just a movie. Suspension of belief is allowed. When you go to a goofy film, don't expect Meryl Streep telling poop jokes. Keep your expectations low and your IQ lower. I am truly amazed when a film treats the audience with respect and doesn't feed every angle of the main characters in the first 30 minutes. We're adults here, so give us some cred.

5. At least once in your lifetime, you have to sit in the last row with a date and smooch through the whole thing. That was the best film ever....

The Art of Noise

The wonders of a mixed cd. Heavens-to-Betsy, I do believe a personalize disc is equivalent to a piece of your soul. Seriously. No kidding. Some of you may actually have a bit of my music in your collection. Some of you might even have an old tape of mine as far back as the early 90's (you know who you are). Why even talk about it you say? Passion, Baby, Passion. There is something cathartic about sitting in front of my collection, dusting off a few deep cuts and slapping 'em on a new cd for a friend, relative or even me. We all have made a few in our pasts. Maybe for a significant other with stellar songs from Weezer and The Pogues or that ultimate "breakup" disc slathered with Nine Inch Nails and Tom Waits. This week, two people made me discs. That's pretty remarkable because I can't even remember the last time I got one. Each disc was the complete opposite of each other. One had a smattering of songs from Detroit punksters like The Gories and the Von Bondies (no, I've never heard of 'em either), while the other had stuff from Graham Parker and The Jayhawks. Each disc even came with the titles and artists of the songs in the case, one hand written while the other was printed out in a lovely font. Both discs were oozing with nostalgia. Both discs had songs or bands that I've never heard of. Both discs have already been loaded into my ITunes. Both discs unveil a little bit more about those people. Both discs mean so much to me.

Down with Disease

The sickness is almost gone...FINALLY!!! My nose is officially chafing, which means seven more weeks of summer! Yeah? There is something about being sick that reverts you back to childhood. I can always remember chicken soup and crackers. That's it. Nothing more. As I've gotten into the '00s, I've upgraded my sickware package to include Gatorade (that cool refreshing drink) and popsicles. When, I feel better and start getting the sense of smell, all food tastes yummy again. Usually, a grilled cheese sandwich is the measuring stick. If I eat one and then crave dipping myself into a vat of gouda, I'm aces. Right now, it's real close and I'm contemplating on going out. Maybe I need to fire up the stove and see...
...but I'm not done yet. Part of the nifty thing about being sick, is that there is someone to take care of you. However, being alone and sick makes you feel like you are ALONE AND SICK. Being with someone else while boogers are hanging out of your nostrils means that they are your SICK SLAVE. "Honey, can you go to the store and get me some soup and crackers?" is much more enjoyable than dragging your weak self out of bed and into some wrinkled clothes, then into you car to go to the grocer where the checkout out girl says "How are you doing?". Doesn't she see the Tissues, Gatorade, Saltines, Campbells, Tropicana, Vicks, Arnold's and Edy's items on that little conveyor thingy? Look down miss and look at my sick groceries!!! Can't you tell? Don't you notice THAT I AM SICK AND I NEED A FREAKIN CUDDLE? On that note, I think I'm feeling even better now, thank you very much.

Long Days Journey into...Hertz

Just a typical day in the neighborhood...It started with creating an aluminum foil bobsled run from the faulty air conditioner drain pan into a bright blue bucket at 2am this morning. Back up a few days and watch the oafish, bald guy try to caulk up the holes in his blasted corroded ac that was installed when Michael J. Fox was wearing square cloth ties. It failed miserably after not running the air for 24 hours (that's what the caulk told me). Without whipping up the exact replica of the run from the Lake Placid Winter Olympics, there would be oodles of noodles of water everywhere on the floor. Now, I just change the bucket every few hours like some dude cleaning bedpans in prison. Have you noticed that I don't want to call a repair person? I noticed it too...
So, I got up at 4:30am (do the sleep math) and went to make the lattes at 5:30am, while most humans are still experiencing Michael Stipe sleep. As my day progressed, I felt a sickness coming on...and it did. I hit the wall around 10am, but continued to work because....I'm...the...big...boss....man. I sent myself home early after drinking 6 gallons of tea. I took a nap and realized that I still had to pick up a rental car at the airport for an SBUX event in Jax tomorrow. Sigh. Off I went. I pushed aside a few stray chickens and tumbleweeds scattered across the Gville airport to get to the rental counter. The agent actually asked me for a SBUX id in order to claim the tantalizing white Ford van (because there was a huge mob behind me in line with hopes and dreams to get the same car). Then I perused over to the Publix (while trying to hit every pot hole along the way) to pick up sick food requirements: Gatorade (to help support UF), chicken soup (no airport ones were harmed) and popsicles. On the way in, I ran into an old friend that is moving out of town in a few weeks. So, you ever notice when you are sick and out and about, you tend to wear clothes that are not appealing in any way (except on Bono)? My friend called me out by making fun of my fat shorts. I pushed him into a stray shopping cart (not really). I sped home while drinking an entire 64 oz 'ade along the way. But that's not all!!!! There on the curb, outside my condo, were 4 wooden chairs, ready for the trash heap. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Now the heap of chairs are in my living room. Yippee. Oh yeah, I emptied the bucket just in time....

Coffee Consumes Me

We're Number One
Originally uploaded by dublwrap.

Well...you knew it would happen eventually...but I had to talk about work. It is the ultimate ice breaker and people are passionate for and against it. Customers crave the recognition and love to talk about their favorite drinks. One of my good friends met her future husband at a store. My first cup was Gold Coast Blend at the Jax airport in 1997. Five years ago, I was offered a position to be the first manager in Gainesville, but turned it down. I opened the 6th store in town two years ago. You should stop by for a chat. So...sit back, grab your French press and enjoy some espresso shots of Seattle...


The One That Started It All


Fresh Fish


How 'Bout a White Mocha?



No Frappuccino?


The Original Siren


The Needle

Table for (you)

A True Redhead
Originally uploaded by dublwrap.

Welcome. Glad you could make it. You don't need a reservation, so come on in. Take a look around. There are daily specials...so come back often. Don't forget, you can help stir the pot....

One Week

Over the last seven days, I've mingled, played poker, talked, joked, voice mailed, text messaged, blogged, e-mailed, sang, dance, drank and ate with a cross section of my closest buds. I had interesting conversations with entrepeneurs, teachers, surgeons, undergrad & grad students (some of them drunk), my best friend and his wife, administrators, managers, children, grandparents, beautiful women and dorky guys. Lets see... I lost $15, ripped new songs into my IBook, rediscovered some old music, caulked, washed dishes, consumed pasta at 3am, slurped lots of espresso, sweated, opened important documents, apologized, laughed, lit candles, dished out advice, slammed car doors, listened, made new friends and set up a trade for a homeade King Cake. It was good week....

The Squeeze Play on Words

So...how about those New York Metropolitans? No...really. A pretty average team that stinks up the bottom of MLB year end and year out. However...occasionally, they can put together an amazing season and actually win a World Series or two ('69 and '86). I will always remember the moment when my original orange and blue team won game 6. I was at a friend's house in Coral Springs, a few blocks away from the 'rents. When the game finished, I walked home and there in the driveway was my Dad, anxiously awaiting my arrival. We hugged and laughed. I will never forget that moment. People all over this world have a passion for pulling for a favorite team albeit pro, college, fantasy, little league, etc...Then there are those people who think following a sports team is a useless waste of cells in the 'ol noggin. Gotta tell ya...if anything in life stirs your soul, makes you nervous, stomps on your gut, evokes a tear or pumps adrenaline so fierce in your body that you need to high five, holler, laugh, stomp your feet or hug your Dad in a moment of pure joy...I'll be its biggest fan.

Splinter of the Mind's Eye

Never thought that I would use an old Star Wars book title from the late 1970's as a title of a post. Then again, I'm new at this, so there are no rules - only vivid sines and cosines interweaving in my head, occasionally meeting at some eureka point where I spit useless, random crap on toast. Sometimes funny, sometimes not. My roux is a mix of geekdom, music, a few pints, a whole lot of friends and family, laughter, tears and for those of you playing at home...a bucket of shrimp with my pants off. I've traversed this lifetime like I play cards...forcing my hand to win the game instead of being patient to pick and choose my spots. I'm using this medium to learn about my opponent (me) which may help me get to the winner's table. The goal is not to win, but to enjoy every nook and cranny along the way....

Have Fun!

Laissez Les Bon Temps Roule
Originally uploaded by dublwrap.

Happiness is a red drink in the French Quarter

Ultra Vivid Scene

Ever listen to a song that you haven't listened to in a 14 years? A song so obscure that if you put the band's name in the title of a post, it sounds really cool. Oh yeah, the song is called Special One with Kim Deal (of the Pixies) on guest vocals. Raise your hand if you've ever heard of it (insert cricket chirping sound here)....