The Journal of Stephen Michael Hobbs - Part 3 of 7

Tuesday, June 7th I just read back over what I wrote yesterday. That doesn't tell you how it was at all. Not by a long shot. I left out too much that showed how she felt about me as the relationship progressed and it ended up reading like I was some kind of stalker or something. It wasn't that way at all. It's just so hard to get the words out on paper. Too much is left out. I don't feel much like writing about Meredith today. I think I'll tell you more about me instead. That ought to be easy. I like to think I might know a thing or two about that topic. I grew up in Granton same as every other kid I knew. There was nothing really special about it. I caught crawdads and played baseball and read comic books same as the other kids. I went to the movies and played in the park and tried to bum smokes from the older kids. Real normal small town kid stuff. The only real difference between me and the other kids is that I was a better athlete than most kids my age. When Junior High rolled around I played on all the teams. It was all so easy. I hit manhood a bit earlier than most of my friends and was big for my age besides. It was around that time that the girls around me started changing too. And how! I learned just how much they were changing from a girl named Jessica Wilson in the 8th grade. No big deal since I think she shared this same knowledge with about half the football team. I wonder where she is now. Probably a preacher's wife or something. Who knows? I certainly had a nice time with her on several occasions the following summer. It wasn't so easy the next year when high school started. Jessica moved on to the Seniors on the Varsity Team and suddenly I wasn't the biggest kid on roster anymore. I kept growing though. By 10th grade I was back in the starting lineup on the defense for the football team and hitting cleanup on the baseball team. I had plenty of girlfriends that year. Nothing special. Then, my Junior Year, a girl named Laura Brighton transferred to our school. Her family had moved from Omaha and she was about the best thing I'd ever seen. She and I were something of an item for most of that year. Her parents never really liked me though and they eventually decided to move back to Omaha just before the school year ended so we couldn't see each other anymore. She was the closest I ever came to really loving someone before Meredith came into my life. Looking back now, I realize how juvenile it all was compared to what I would later have with Meredith, but you couldn't have told me that at the time. At the time I could not have been more head over heals for Laura. I would have done anything for her back in those days. That's what scared her parents so much. They realized I could be something for her that they could never be. That I would do things for her that they could never do. I proved that when Trevor Barnes said something about her that he shouldn't have said. I won't relate exactly what he said, but let's just say it was sexual in nature and that he implied having first hand knowledge. I put that redneck in the hospital for a month. Laura and I should have been closer than ever after I had shown her how much I cared, but instead her parents took her and headed back for Nebraska as soon as they heard about what happened. As soon as they realized she could love me more than she loved them, they took her away from me. It's kind of funny now. Trevor still has that crooked nose I gave him and he won't look me in the eyes when we pass in the market. At least that was true the last time I saw him before I left Granton a few years ago. I got suspended from school for a while because of the whole Trevor/Laura thing. My coaches never treated me the same again after that. They still let me play the following year. They knew they couldn't win without me, but when it came time for college recruiting, I know those hypocrites blacklisted me. No offers. Not a single one. I tried confronting my football coach and he just shook his head and said something about me not being college material. I should have stuffed that stupid whistle down his throat that day. Not college material? Why? Cause I defended my girlfriend? Why couldn't they just come out and tell me the truth! I know the truth is that they were punishing me cause their golden boy Trevor wasn't able to Quarterback the team anymore due to some lingering nerve damage to his shoulder. Same with baseball. He had been the team Ace and he couldn't even throw a ball over 70 MPH after what I did to him. Punk got what he deserved though. If someone else were to say the same thing about Meredith that he said about Laura, I know I'd do much more than just end their sports career. I'd end them period. So I didn't go on to college sports glory. I didn't go on to college at all. After graduation, I bummed around my parents house for a while until they got fed up and made me get a job. After that I worked at Roger's Garage. I was always good with my hands and good with cars. I guess you could say I was in something of a holding pattern in my life. Waiting for the next thing to happen. The next thing to happen was Meredith. I'll tell you more about her tomorrow.

The Journal of Stephen Michael Hobbs Part 2 of 7

Monday, June 6th I almost didn't sit down to write this today. First of all my hand hurt like fire after all that writing yesterday. Second of all I don't really know how to put into words something like how we met. I can tell you about what happened, but unless you could feel all the things there were to feel I don't know that you'll be able to understand. I'll try though. I got nothing else to do. I first met Meredith about 11 years ago. A little over 11. It was in the spring. I saw her walking into some knick knack store on the square. One of those stores that sells a bunch of junk no one needs. Snow globes and stuff like that. You know the kind. It turned out she worked there, but I didn't know that at first. It was love at first sight, just like you hear about. For me anyway. Since she didn't see me when I first saw her she couldn't feel the same way I did right away. I was just coming out of the courthouse when I saw her across the street, getting out of her car. I can still see it today, just like it happened then, except now I sort of see it in slow motion, like in a movie. She stepped out of a yellow Volkswagen Bug and walked into the junk store. She had this really great tan and was wearing a red dress with white flowers on it. It was one of those little summer dresses and it hit her about mid thigh. She was tall, leggy, and had dark brown hair pulled back into a ponytail. She had on these really big sunglasses so I didn't get a great look at her face until later.  I decided I wanted to get a better look at her and find out who she was. So I crossed the street and went inside that junk shop. Like I said before, it turned out she worked there and was behind the counter already. I start walking around the place, picking stuff up and pretending to look at it while keeping one eye on her the whole time. Turned out her face was just as nice to look at as her figure. Nicer even. She had these enormous brown eyes and really full lips. She had lips like that actress. What's-her-name with the full lips? I'm bad with names. You probably know who I mean though. That really smoking hot one. So finally she comes over and asks me if I need help finding anything. So I give her a line about how now that she was in front of me I think I found just what I was looking for. She's classy though. She doesn't go for it that easy and looks a little annoyed and tells me to let her know if I need any more help and goes back behind the counter again. I look around for another couple of minutes to make it look good before I leave. This kind of set the pattern for the next few weeks. As soon as I got off work each day I'd wash up and head over to pretend to shop for something. She played dumb every day and mostly pretended to ignore me, but we both knew what was going on and it was obvious that there was a mutual attraction building between us. I figured out her first name from listening to some of the regular customers talking to her. A bunch of old blue hairs mostly, buying baskets and those dead flowers that smell like old ladies houses. Poper-something or other. Maybe I'll ask the priest about that stuff next time I see him. Could be those baskets are religious or something and he'll know what they're called. So anyhow, I wanted to find out more about this girl besides that her name was Meredith, so one day I decided to wait across the street and follow her home. By the next day I knew her full name, address, and just about everything else there was to know. She lived outside of town, out in the boonies and it turned out she was a High School Junior down at Woodrow, which is where I went to school. So she would have been a freshman my Senior year. Looking back, I still wonder how I missed seeing her when we were both in the same school together every day for a year. Maybe she hadn't blossomed yet or something. I was pretty caught up in playing football and baseball, so it would have been pretty easy to overlook some flat chested little runt with all the cheerleader skirt I was chasing back then. But back to Meredith. She didn't have no brothers or sisters. Just that possum faced mother I already mentioned, and her dad, who worked some white collar job in the city for some big shot company. I decided to start moving the relationship forward a bit, but wanted this time to be different than the other girls. I wanted to make sure she knew that what I felt for her was different than anything I'd ever felt before. That it was special and she was special. So what I did was that I started leaving things for her on her windowsill. Little presents just for her. It was easy enough to figure out which window was hers. Don't go thinking I'm some kind of a peeping tom or something though! I never looked in no one else's window before or since. It wasn't anything like what those pervert weirdoes do when they go around trying to peep in people's windows for a glimpse of skin. I loved Meredith from the first moment I saw her. It was a different kind of thing when I'd watch her. I'd stand out there for hours some nights just watching her doing her homework, or reading a book. I even watched her sleep all night a few times. It got so that I could barely keep my eyes open at the garage the next day. So anyway, I started leaving things there for her on the windowsill. Just little things so she'd know someone was thinking about her and cared about her. A flower one day. A polished rock another day. I kept this up for a few weeks until her nosy cow of a mother got wise and bought one of those motion detector lights and put it right outside of Meredith's window. I had to run like a cursed rabbit the first night when it came on. I just made it to the trees when I heard the door open and her dad started yelling for me to "show yourself, you pervert!" He had a shotgun in his hands and looked ready to blast the first thing that moved. It was right then that I knew her parents would do anything to keep us apart. I can barely hold the pen steady now. Dang hand cramps. More tomorrow.

The Journal of Stephen Michael Hobbs - Part 1 of 7

I'm going to try something new. I'm in the process of learning how to write. It turns out that writing is a lot harder than reading. With that in mind, I'm going to post a short story here and am open to feedback. There are seven chapters, so I'll post a chapter a day for the next week. I hope you enjoy it.

The Journal of Stephen Michael Hobbs

Sunday, June 5th

This is not a love story. At least not like any love story I ever heard of being told. But in another way I guess it is a love story. Maybe the truest love story ever told. More true than that romance junk they sell down at the drugstore in Granton. The kind with those roided up men wearing those open white shirts with the billowy sleeves and some chick in a low cut old timey dress. The one's that all have that same guy on the cover. That big guy with the long hair. You know who I mean. This isn't that kind of story at all.

I never kept a journal before now. But these days I got a lot a time on my hands and I need to fill it with something. God knows it doesn't pass easy. Getting all this down on paper is as good a way as any. Besides, I like to think that someday someone might read this diary and learn something from it. Kind of like that Jewish kid that wrote about Nazi's and stuff. Like that, except I ain't Jewish and the Nazi's are the least of my problems these days.

But back to the main point. I don't believe there could ever be another love like mine to tell about, but maybe writing about it could help somebody in some way with some lesser romance. I like to think maybe it could. I got to tell you though, I never realized how hard it was to try to write stuff down. My hand can't keep up with all these thoughts in my head and by the time I finish writing a line I don't remember where I was going anyway and have to read what I wrote all over again to remember what I need to write next. Maybe it gets easier as you go. We'll see. This might end up being the world's shortest story. I suppose that would be okay too. Maybe there ain't anything to learn from it anyway. Maybe no one will even read it in the first place.

I guess I should start by telling you who I am and who she is. Those are the important parts to the story I suppose. I was born Stephen Michael Jamison, but I guess you could say that my mother had some difficulty sticking to any one particular marital vow. Because of that, I went through a few different last names before landing with my current one. I've also been an Arnold, a Jefferson, and an Eddings along the way. The last sucker to adopt me and force a name change left me Stephen Michael Hobbs, but everyone has always called me Stevie for as far back as I can remember. I never liked being called Stevie. Never. It sounds like such a baby name. Nobody ever asked me what I ought to be called though, so Stevie it was. Still is.

Her name is Meredith Lane Watson. I don't know if she ever had any other names, but I don't think so. Her mother is one ugly cow, so it's hard to imagine more than one man being willing to marry her. I guess Meredith picked up some recessive traits or something, cause she doesn't look anything like her mom, thank the good Lord in heaven. We learned about recessive traits in biology class. I always liked my science classes back when I was in school. At one point I wanted to be a scientist, but that never happened. I guess you could say a lot of things didn't happen. I guess a lot of things never will happen. That's just the way things go. "The Lord's will" they say. They're always saying some junk like that. As if God really cared if I was gonna be a scientist or not. I figure God has a lot more important things to think about than my career plans. But I guess neither God or I have to worry much about that any more. I think it's safe to say I'm pretty set in my current path at this point.

I don't think you ever get over your first real and only love. No matter how much time goes by and what happens along the way. You keep right on loving them until the day you die. I don't know. Maybe you keep on loving them after that. I like to think so.

That's all I got for tonight. Looking back at the page it looks pitiful compared to how much time it took to scratch all of this out. I would have thought it would be a lot longer. Tomorrow I'll tell you about how we first met.

The Downfall of Musical Integrity

Well, I almost managed to already blow my resolution to post at least one blog per month. Thank goodness for Leap Day!

So, in February I more or less dismissed whatever shreds of musical integrity I still had. Here’s how it happened…

It all started in late 2011, at a work related dinner. After a long day of meetings in Chicago, the members of my team went out to dinner with our Vice President. Two incidents occurred during the course of dinner which led to the demise of the aforementioned integrity.

1. One of my peers made a joke (too long and convoluted to explain here) that culminated with her making up a fictional band name. The name of the band was Red Headed Tuesday.

2. Somehow the topic of Bisected Uvula’s came up in the conversation during dinner. Even now, I have difficulty remembering how this particular topic managed to make its way into the discussion, but once there it could hardly be ignored. (Important side note – a Uvula is the little hanging deal in the back of your mouth. Not something else.)

Somehow, these two incidents magically combined (which is again far too convoluted to try to explain) in such a way where the final joke (which you will have to trust me was extraordinarily funny at the time) was that “Bisected Uvula” was a love song written by the band Red Headed Tuesday.

And then I had an idea.

I went back to my hotel room that night and wrote the song “Bisected Uvula.” Incidentally, I was watching Point Break on the hotel TV at the time. My multi-tasking capabilities are unparalleled. I was deeply amused by my song, and decided I wanted to share that amusement with my VP, since she was had been equally amused during the dinner conversation.

One thing led to another, and then to another, and then in February I somehow convinced two friends to help me record the song under the band name Red Headed Tuesday. They engineered and mixed the whole thing, so I suppose their musical integrity might take a hit as well. Over the course of 4 evenings, I recorded all the instruments and vocals and ended up with a final version to share with my VP.

The song is completely ridiculous. I’ve spent the last 20 years dreaming of impacting other people’s lives by writing insightful, meaningful lyrics and putting out quality music. Instead, all that hard work has led me down a path that dead ended into “Bisected Uvula.”

But it’s too late to turn back now. I already sent the MP3 to my VP, who then played it in our leadership meeting. Complete with a power point of the lyrics. I’m pretty famous now.

So for the 5 amazingly brilliant people who read my blog with any regularity, I hope you find this truly entertaining. My integrity (as if I really still had any to lose considering I once recorded a song titled “Death Star Love Song”) is in flames, but at least my heart was never in the right place.

You can listen to and download (for free) “Bisected Uvula” by Red Headed Tuesday by clicking right here

And here is a visual journey through the process.

Blessings

Top 5 Wines under $10.

As previously discussed in the blog titled, “What’s up with my mouth?” I made it known that I enjoy a glass or two of wine on most evenings. Like many of you, however, I operate on a budget which does not allow me to just grab anything I want off the wine shelf. As a result, I have tried a great many wines under $10 over the last year and a half and would like to pass along some of what I have learned. This knowledge is worth well more than its weight in wine as you can hopefully use this list to avoid bringing home some of the moonshine hooch that often falls into this price range. There is plenty of that out there and no one deserves that. And remember, many places (like Tom Thumb) give you a 10% discount if you buy 6 bottles or more.

(Disclaimer – Wine should be enjoyed in moderation. Take it easy.)

5. Smoking Loon – Cabernet Sauvignon

A good solid Cabernet for the price. Not the best, but doesn’t vary much from bottle to bottle like some of the less expensive wines do. Available at multiple locations. Their Merlot is also pretty decent.

4. Francis Ford Coppola - Rosso

This blended wine is the only Coppola I have found which is consistently under $10. I normally pick this one up at Tom Thumb for about eight dollars and am never disappointed. I have tried some of Mr. Coppola’s $10+ wines as well and they are also quite good, but seldom make their way into the Autry home due to the aforementioned budget.




3. Rex Goliath Giant 47 Pound Rooster
– Cabernet Sauvignon

Pretty much anything by Rex Goliath will not disappoint. You can find this brand in many locations, but Walmart carries many Rex Goliath options for $4.97 / bottle. The Cabernet is my favorite, but their Pinot Noir, and Sauvignon Blanc are also very enjoyable. Priced as an everyday wine, but good enough for company.

2. Spanish Quarter – Cabernet-Tempranillo


Excellent Blended Wine, available at Tom Thumb. There’s a lot going on in this one and I was very tempted to put this one at #1. Their Chardonnay-Albarino is my favorite white wine and would probably come in around 6 overall for me.

1. Apothic Red

This Blend is simply unbelievable. Available at Tom Thumb and Walmart, usually for just under $10, this wine really delivers. Made from 3 grapes, the flavor is quite hard to define and I haven’t tasted another wine that I could compare it to. And besides, very few people can describe what they are tasting without sounding like pretentious bores. I have found that this Red appeals even to those who normally prefer white wines.

Cheers!

Top 5 Best Worst Movies of all time.

What is it about an extraordinarily bad movie that compels us so? I find myself entranced and deeply amused by fantastically bad movies. Now it is important to understand what I mean by “bad.” There are plenty of terrible movies that are not enjoyable to watch in the least. But then there are movies that are so bad that they you have to watch them over and over again and the catch phrases from the movie become part of your daily vernacular. The difference may be most noticeable when you can profoundly enjoy the bad movie without requiring commentary from Mystery Science Theatre to do so.

With that in mind, I have compiled my personal list of the top 5 amazingly bad movies of all time. The list is perhaps fairly predictable, but no less sincere. I have definitely found that the horror genre tends to produce the best worst movies of all time, and those are the films that made it into my top five.

5. TerrorVision

The monster actually comes out of the TV after being accidentally beamed there via satellite and uncle Rico is Punk Rock Uncle Rico. Hilarity ensues. I really debated whether this one should make the top 5 and almost put “The Stuff” in instead, especially since I’ve only seen Terrorvision on TV and have never actually seen the theatrical release. I gave this one the edge due a slightly higher level of absurdity and because I like Uncle Rico, who in this movie actually was still young enough to throw a football over them mountains.

4. Slumber Party Massacre 2

Now don’t misunderstand and think that true greatness can be found in Slumber Party Massacre part 1. It took a second effort to achieve true greatness and there is nowhere near enough of a coherent plotline to require you to see the first movie. I think that all you really need to know is that the killer in the movie has a giant electric guitar with a drill on the end, with which he terrorizes people at a Slumber Party and drops amazing one-liners. There is even a dance sequence. Disclaimer - there is an unfortunate nude scene early in the film, which detracts from the overall greatness.

3. Plan 9 from Outer Space

It really wouldn’t be a legitimate list without this film being involved. Ed Wood clearly put forth his “best” effort for this one. For further enjoyment of this film (outside of watching the film itself) see Tim Burton’s “Ed Wood,” which spends a great deal of time on the making of this movie, which many have proclaimed to be the worst film ever made.

2. Killer Klowns from Outer Space

That’s right. They spelled Clowns with a K. Krazy!

1. Troll 2

I know how clichéd it is to name this the best worst movie of all time. I am aware that there is in fact a documentary called “Best Worst Movie” which is all about this film. It’s a spectacular documentary by the way. I am, however, unable to rank this movie anywhere else but number one with a clear conscience. This film is a perfect storm of all the scenarios required to make a truly terrible film. You can check these all off your list. The writer and director speak little to no English and are complete dictators. The actors have little to no acting experience (or talent), including one man who was on a day pass from the mental hospital. A completely ridiculous plot that is often incoherent. Truly horrible special effects and costumes. No actual Trolls or connection to Troll 1. And this list could go on and on. So my friend, pour yourself a nice tall glass of Nilbog milk, grab a double decker bologna sandwich and sit back to enjoy the greatest worst movie ever made.

Blessings.

Resolving to spite the Mayans

It is now closing in on the time when we make resolutions for how the upcoming year will be more significant than the year that is drawing to a close. I have a rather shoddy record of remembering to make resolutions in the first place, and an even shoddier record of remembering what those resolutions were a few months after the fact.

So this year I will be documenting my resolutions here, thereby to serve as reference material while the 2012 year progresses. This is, of course, working under the assumption that they Mayans didn’t know enough to prevent their own civilization’s downfall, and could therefore not have been in possession of any particular foresight into the doom of the planet.

These are in no particular order. The last shall be first, etc.

1. Submit at least two works for publication of some kind.
2. Remain physically active throughout the year.
3. Resubmit the aforementioned works to other publishers following the initial rejection of said works.
4. Complete at least one musical project of some kind.
5. Actively work on being a patient listener.
6. Post at least one blog each month instead of disappearing for quarters at a time.
7. Actively work on writing at least 4 nights out of the week.
8. Watch Troll 2 at least 6 times during the course of the year.
9. Resume reading my Bible on a regular basis.