Wednesday, August 27, 2008

my name is robert...

I don't know that I'm taking a stand, dear reader, that I should really be called by my full first name. I mean, after all, it's a free country, and people could (and do) call me a lot worse than some variation on my given moniker. That being said, I prefer being called by the full six letters. Thankfully, my family and most of my closest friends understand this and behave accordingly.

However, starting as early as Sunday school, where the priest at my church would call me Bobby despite numerous protestations, people have been calling me by other than my true name. A few friends from high school loved calling me Bob, which actually became endearing, if only from them. In college it was Rob, which is just about as impersonal as it gets.

Anyway, below are some common variations and what the conjure up in my brain when someone uses one to beckon me.


This one has been the least used, and for that I'm thankful. The only Robby I ever knew was one of my little brother's friends, and he lived in a trailer. There's nothing inherently wrong with trailers, I just remember he lived in one. Anyway, at 6 years old, he was throwing down the F-bomb left and right, and had a ruthless mullet.


Even Robby the Robot, which had all the potential to be a bad ass, human-race-dominating character, ended up looking bubbly and cuddly as far as robots go:

Cuddly friend or human-race enslaver?


As I mentioned above, this one reminds me of Father Doar, incessantly smoking his cigarettes and in his Scottish accent saying "Thatta boy, Bobby." Thankfully he wasn't that kind of priest, and I think those cigarettes killed him, but Bobby should be saved for very small cartoon children of Howie Mandell:

Somehow Mandel got a career out of this.

or someone like unique personality and media rarity Bobby Friction, DJ, performance artist, journalist, and BBC talking head:

Reminds me of the Needy Girl video which RULES.


As I said, Bob isn't all that bad, but really only because I have some high school friends who started calling me Bob to annoy me, but like so many things annoying it became the status quo. I have some decent friends who go by Bob. But at the end of the day, Bob is reserved for overweight 50-somethings. Take KFGO Radio 790 AM "Drive Time News" anchor Bob Harris for example, he is a shining example of my mental image of Bob:

Enough said.


This has to be the most pervasive bastardization of my name. Upon arriving in my Freshman dorm in college, I was almost immediately and universally known as Rob - even after introducing myself as Robert. The same occurred when I started my job after college... I don't know if it's because so many Roberts of my generation go by Rob, or what, but without explicit reminders that it's "Robert", that became my name.

Now, the fact that I share a first and last name with a no-talent ass clown in the music industry doesn't help. And perhaps he's the reason people assume I prefer "Rob". To this day, some less intelligent people still jump up and down and clap their hands with glee when they get to call me "Rob Thomas" because 'that's so funny you have the same name as a pop star and I am automatically funny for constantly pointing it out!!?!!@#!@#!#@" This would be less painful if Rob Thomas wasn't such a tool. I mean look at him and his lame earrings contrasted against his dark, brooding, pained expression. Ugh.

"I'm so carefree!!"

"No, wait, I'm deep and mysterious!"

Tuesday, August 26, 2008

live strong...

It is with some sadness, dear reader, that I must report that I missed this year's SSWC. Last year, I was rocketed to international internet fame after my post-race interview, and I hoped to make it back this year to drink and er, uh, ride. This year, not only did I miss the online registration because I was in the back woods, but I had the chance to support Tough Cookie in her first bid at a century.

Not only was she looking to ride 100 miles, she chose a ride with 8,000 feet of climbing. It was a tough ride for even an experienced cyclist. Her report is much better than mine could be, so read that instead:

The perk of riding with Tough Cookie in this event was that I got to go to the mega-fundraising dinner with her the night before the ride. At this event, Lance spoke. I'm not a huge Lance fan, but I love free food and open bar. Nothing better than warming up for cross sandbagging by fundraising-sandbagging.

Though I'm convinced Lance cheated in some or all of his Tour victories, I don't think I'd want that revealed now if it meant the world would lose all of the work he has done promoting cancer research and support. It opened my eyes a little to see how far-reaching his foundation is, and how much it has meant for so many cancer survivors and family members.

Anyway, nothing funny to report. The number of faux-pas I saw on the bike this weekend was staggering. If you played Fred Bingo with chainring tattoos, hairy legs, aero bars at shoulder height, crooked helmets, and Primal jerseys, you'd have grandma's nursing home rife with jealousy. But I promised I wouldn't make fun of people in this ride, so I'll shut my mouth.

It was a long day on the bike, but really nice to see true inspiration, suffering, and achievement. I'll get a little taste of my own on Sunday.

Friday, August 22, 2008

new theme song...

The only rule is keep it classy.

Look at my sexy facial hair.
Oh man, hot damn, it's everywhere!

Monday, August 18, 2008

i want to build some bikes...

I liked a lot of these contraptions. There was one that made the BC Wheel look like child's play.

Saturday, August 09, 2008

things heard during...

the women's olympic beach volleyball game between the US and the Dutch.
  • It gets hard playing with a sweaty ball.
  • They like playing with each other.
  • That's what she told me the other night.
  • A double fist, you think?
  • A little anxious moment when they poke it over your head.
  • Nicole Branagh continues to pound away!
I mean it's cool seeing four chicks in bikinis get all sweaty on TV, especially when they're slapping each other in the butt. Then again, these women are second only to power lifters in their masculinity.

I definitely watch it for the double entendre.

Felt like crap on the road today. A short ride by recent standards, and the weather was beautiful. Rode some of my favorite roads, and had a moment where I had the uncontrollable perma-grin that more than made up for how bad my legs felt.

Tomorrow's another 4 park ride, shooting for 60 miles on the mountain bike. Really I guess it's my last true preperation for the Shenandoah Mountain 100. I don't know how guys like Nate at do multiple 100 milers on the MTB throughout the year. I just want to survive.