Spark

My face is ridiculously dry. This is what The Mummy must feel like on days when his face is ridiculously dry.

Yes, I have a hard-on. No, I'm not telling you where I got it from.

I would very much like to urinate, but my bladder seems to be set on selfish. It's its urine and it's keeping it all to itself.

I'm feeling a bit silly today. Maybe it's the lack of sleep. Maybe it's the fact that the sun is shining. Most likely it's the lack of sleep.

So I started re-reading Frank Miller's Sin City comics (excuse me, "Graphic Novels") the other day because I was ridiculously excited about the movie coming out tomorrow (it will be the only movie besides The Phantom of the Opera that I've seen in a theater in quite awhile). I'd forgotten how great the comics were, about how they got my senses all fired up. And as I was reading them I found a lot of my old ideas coming back to me, a lot of the old stories I never got to tell. They were bringing back my creativity. Then the other night when I couldn't sleep I decided to hook up my DVD player and watch some movies. All I've been doing is reading lately, and as much as I love books, if all you do is read eventually all your imagination is wasted conjuring up other people's images. With movies (and comics) they image is there for you, you have more time to concentrate on your own images. Your own stories.

So a few days into this bender I haven't written down a single thing, but I don't really need to. It's all up there, and it's not going anywhere until I see fit to move it. The ideas are growing, feeding off the images being plugged in there, for the first time in a long time they are progressing.

I can hear the footsteps again, I can see the light bend. It's all coming back to me.

Left foot first...now walk.

Mount Blog-More

If mountains were messages.

Don't mind me, I'm delusional.

So the blogs I read have gone rather stale. People just don't update. I need a line to the outside world here people, and if I don't get it from the reader(s) here then I need to get it from the blogs I read. Quite frankly it doesn't appear that any of you are holding up your end of the bargain here. I die damn near twice daily and barely get thrown a freaking bone here.

For a moment you actually disappoint me...it's kind of nice to be on the other end of that stick for once.

So where was I?

Oh yeah, at work. Like usual.

Monday was supposed to be slow, a day for me to recuperate. I don't remember when my last day off was, I worked a grand total of 92 hours last week, and slept a whopping 12 hours across 7 days. Somewhere in between all that I did a radio show, babysat the kids, and ended up eating chicken wings in a diner in Belleville. It may not be interesting, but I still get around.

So Monday was supposed to be a good day. A slow day. What went wrong?

PSE&G decided they were going to issue a shut-off notice because they never got my new address right and I keep asking them for the bill. 'Course I didn't get the shut off notice because they mailed it to the wrong address. So when I get wind of this minor debacle I end up stuck down at the PSE&G office in Ghetto-riffic downtown Paterson. Hours later I get back to work only to find that my night guy isn't coming in, the mail is piled high, the new insurance I've spent weeks working on is in the shitter, and oh yeah, everyone but me sucks.

So I grin-and-bear-it, and put the extra hours in to cover...again. As I'm finally getting ready to finish up I open a piece of mail from the state only to find that the Department of Labor erroneously thinks I owe them $14,690.22. I'm a little peeved. The very next piece of mail is from the Sherrif's office issuing an unexplained lien on a company account for $10,309.75. This comes to roughly $25,000. Which coincidentally was supposed to be the amount of my bonus. Guess where we're going to get the $25G from if the state doesn't realize its mistake?

Isn't life grand?

I wish I could sleep, but for some reason I'm still awake at four in the morning, and I can't stop thinking about the stars. Odd.

Sleep.

Maybe tomorrow.

Pretty Decent Friday

My head felt like it was going to explode. It was coming up on 9 P.M. and I was still stuck at work, nothing was going right. I was furious. And finally the office cleared. Things were still going wrong all around me, but finally I had a moment to myself. I brought up The Phantom of The Opera soundtrack on my Ipod and just let it work its magic. Moments later I was on my way to being calm.

I must be the worst straight person in the known universe.

It's as if God said in his deep booming baritone with a masculine sweep of his arm, "Let him dig chicks."...and then with a questionable gesture he added in a very fey voice, "Butttttt...let's not make him care so much he actually does anything about it." I'm sure there are lots of guys who find musicals soothing, I'm sure most of them take it. I'm the exception to that rule as well I suppose.

Anyway...I'm working through one of the most taxing professional periods of my life. I'm just ridiculously busy. I'm also an insomniac and having only a few hours off between work each day means I rarely have enough time to even begin falling asleep. It's not doing wonders for my functionality.

Here's just a quick list of my sleep induced failings this week:

3 - Number of times I dozed for a moment and woke up not knowing where I was.
1- Number of times I was at my desk in the office when I woke up.
2- Number of times I was driving on the NJ Turnpike when I woke up.

5- Number of times I said, "Whoa, slow down. You people talk too fast for me."

4- Number of times I went to put a cup down on my desk and instead dropped it because as it turns out I was nowhere near my desk.

1- Number of times I walked into my bathroom, raised the lid on the toilet, and thought "I don't remember doing that."

3-Number of times I couldn't remember if I shampooed in the shower.
2-Number of times that happened more than once in a single shower.
1- Number of times I forgot to shower altogether.

3- Number of times I walked out of my apartment, checked if my fly was open, and found that it was.
1- Number of times I walked out of m apartment, checked if my fly was open, and realized I wasn't wearing any pants.

8- Number of times I forgot to sign a check I was writing.
1- Number of times I forgot where to sign the check.
1- Number of times I forgot whose name to sign on the check. (Just for reference it's my own.)

3- Number of nonsensical blog entries, counting this one, including the phrase "I'm so very tired."


So...yeah, that's where we're at.It's Good Friday. Everyone else has off today, but I'm working anyway. Despite that unfortunate fact the optimist in me prevails...today won't just be Good Friday, it's going to be Great Friday.

Past The Point of No Return: Sheer Exhaustion

That part of me that is still capable of logical thought acknowledges that I'm working myself into an early grave, the rest of me just doesn't care.

I'm so tired.

Have you ever been at that point where you're so tired everything you do makes your eyes water? The simple act of seeing has become so difficult you're practically blinded by "tears". Everything is clear unless you move too quick and then things become blurry, moving your head results in the feeling like the whole world is swimming around you. Everything blinks on and off because your body is trying to rest and just can't.

I'm so tired I'm delusional. I've spent the last two hours trying to convince myself there are not sewing pins in my mouth, but every time my body attempts to shut down I have to start over. I have the uneasy feeling that I've been pulling these pins out of my gums all night, and when I stop trying to fight it I can actually feel the pain of something that never happened. My damn mouth is actually sore from just thinking this.

I know, I know it sounds insane. And most likely it is. I know all I need is a good night's sleep.

Instead, I am going back to work.

I am so very, very tired.

The Not-So-Great Return of Team One

"No time for a real entry right now, Team One is rumbling into town to put me out of business and I have to go defend the fort (and buy them breakfast)." - Palomba, from Night In The Lonesome October, October 1st, 2004

Five months ago on the the morning of my first encounter with Team One I made the mistake of saying something I shouldn't have said to someone I shouldn't have said it to.

I didn't realize then how unimportant it was. There were no repercussions, no consequences for my mistake. Unfortunately, like a lot of people this person wasn't a part of my life anymore. I could have said anything. It wouldn't have made a difference.

That's sort of how I feel here.

No matter what I say or how I say it...everything stays the same.

So the last few days have been absolutely crazy. I haven't stopped since Monday. I didn't realize it was only Wednesday till I got home tonight, I can't believe how long this week is turning out to be.

I realize that I haven't had but two easy days since I got out of college ten months ago. It wasn't really all that bad, but it certainly wasn't great either. I didn't expect to do anything but work, and life so far is living up to my expectations. I'm not bummed about it, confused definitely, but not down. Not out.

I haven't found that next great thing to look forward to. I'm working on it, I swear, but I haven't found it just yet.

So five months after my last great mistake I'm ready to make another one.

Isn't that always just the case?

I'm going to forget about the rest of the world.

Maybe for the next seven hours, maybe forever, I don't know.

So just in case...

To all the people I've lost along the way, those who have fallen below, and those who have risen above. Those who made my life what it is and have slowly stopped being a part of it. Those who I miss like you wouldn't believe.

Thanks.

"When you're feeling too close to the bottom,
You know who it is you can count on.
Someone will pick you up again
we can conquer anything together .
All of us are bonded forever,
If you die, I die...that's the way it is." - Pennywise, Bro Hymn

For Good Ole' Archie Leach

I saw Grease the other night and ever since that damn "Sandra D." song has been stuck in my head. Worse part is I can't remember the words.

Let me tell you how old we are now, the guys went out for St. Paddy's day on Thursday and it took them a whole four days to recover.

I have to be at work in 1 hour and 23 minutes, but I can't manage to fall asleep.

I drifted off around 1 A.M. and had a dream, when I woke up it was all I could think about. I couldn't have slept for more than 10 minutes.

The bit of me that still remembers what it's like to be me is telling the bit of me that's changed in the last year that it's only got so long left before the old me takes back over and plunges us into something neither one of us wants. Something grand.

I keep thinking about the way this blog makes me seem. I keep thinking how it's the most perfect picture of me anyone can ever see, except that it's not. It's missing the key. It's a damn crossword puzzle without the clues. See if you don't know me this makes me look really, really off. Makes me look like a sad, bitter, little man. But knowing me this just adds another dimension...a sad, bitter, little dimension but a dimension nonetheless. It doesn't make me any less me...if anything it makes it obvious that there is a little more to me than anyone would expect.

My name's become a bit of a joke lately, which in many ways only makes it suit me more. Luckily for both of us it's not a very funny joke, otherwise it wouldn't suit me at all.

I am very, very tired...but now I have to be at work in 1 hour and 7 minutes.

What are you going to do?

So here's to acting the part, playing out the string, and no matter what they call you never letting go of your name.

It's one of the few things that will ever really be yours.

"I knew a Baldwin once, horse thief in Mississippi. Couldn't be the same guy could it?" - Walter, His Girl Friday

Lost In Harlem: Or Where'd All The Other White Folk Go?

"I don't like this area."

"Really? I love it. Guess I'm just used to it."

"You come here a lot?"

"Oh yeah, Me, Pookie, and Ray-Ray used to come down here to shoot hoops and get our dicks sucked."

This is going to be one of the oddest normal entries ever.

My dreams of the past three nights have put me in something of a wicked mood. Coupled with a million random instances of serendipidity countered by numerous bouts of depression and nausea thrown together with a bit of insomnia and you end up with a man on his very last not quite normal nerve.

It started with walking out of the radio station last night, and ended with me sitting on my couch right now. In between I was almost killed twice, had an old man ask me if I've ever had blue balls, had to find something comforting to say to a guy whose two year old just died, had a conversation about tax surveyors with a complete stranger, met with my insurance agent, got sued on my lunch break, argued with a school about breaking federal bidding laws that they wanted to break, had a deaf kid sent home from school because he forgot his medication (have they come up with a pill that cures deafness?), had a group of kids abandoned in NYC, lost a bus, argued with the NYPD, discussed drugs with a hobo, and finally stole one of my own buses off a street corner in the depths of Harlem. How's that for a fucking Wednesday?

"It's not peace kid, it's just the other monster." - T.O. Hob

Last night Matt reminded me of how much of an ass I made out of myself that one time in my life that I got drunk and despite the fact that even I enjoy laughing at myself I still went home feeling really bad about the fact that I ruined that night for everyone. I never really think about it anymore, but when it comes up I don't feel embarassed, I just feel bad that I fucked up everyone's last real night together...

Anyway...

I knew my day was going to go down hill quick when the first person I talked to this morning was my stepfather. Never a good sign when that man calls me. First thing this morning I had to deal with a school that is angry we were awarded their transportation contract because we pulled out of a previous contract with them leaving them without transportation. The problem is...that never happened. We did a full year of transportation and they were pleased with it at the time, but the company that covered them in the interim is upset and has convinced them that we default on contracts regularly. Which of course...has never happened.

Then one of the old guys who works from me comes in to tell us about his hernia surgery. He's a great guy and all, but I've never had a more awkward conversation about someone else's testicles in my life. Come to think of it I'm not sure I've ever had a real conversation about someone else's testicles in my entire life.

A whole bunch of other awkward/boring/depressing/pointless bullshit led up to my lunch "break." On my way to the deli I stopped at my old man's house to pick up the mail. There was a certified mail receipt which meant I had to head over to the post office. The woman wouldn't give me the mail because my driver's license doesn't have my father's home address on it. After a short argument one of the other postal workers convinced her it was ok and she allowed me to sign for the letter...which it turns out was a lawsuit. I'm being sued for something that happened before I was even with the company. So not only did I get sued on my lunch break, but I had to go to the post office to pick the paperwork up and I had to argue to get them to give it to me.

Another bout of boring but necessary shit was punctuated by the revelation that one of the three buses I had in NYC today was missing, meaning I had to send another bus to pick up the abandoned kids. We couldn't get a hold of the missing driver on the radio or on his cellphone, the bus was nowhere to be found, and NYPD hadn't heard a thing. Of course it took me hours to find out if NYPD knew anything because they kept bouncing me around the non-emergency extensions. I almost lied and said there were kids on the missing bus, but I wasn't sure that would do any good. So with my bus and driver missing, and NYPD less than helpful I embarked on another fabulous bus retrieval adventure.

The amazing Benny-O and I headed for Manhattan to check where the bus was supposed to be, and of course it wasn't there. Which we sort of expected. But New York is a big place and we had a tip that the bus might be somewhere in Harlem so off we went . Now when you're as large and white as I am, and you find yourself standing out front of one of Magic Johnson's theaters you have to figure you're going to stick out like a sore thumb. But at this point nothing mattered but retrieving the bus. so we slogged through some of the worst parts of Harlem looking for this damn thing. At one point we're stopped at a light and I see a little old black man leaning against a fence. On the fence there is a sign that says, "No Drugs." He looks at me, steps away from the fence, then reaches back and taps the sign. "No Drugs Allowed?" I say, he grins so wide I can see his tonsils and grunts, "Shit, I'm just out." Then he starts cackling. Despite myself I laugh too.

Now we have an address where my driver might be and as we pull onto the the street in question Benny-O starts searching for building numbers. But the numbers are small and often missing, it's really dark out, and Benny's eyes aren't that great. So when he keeps saying, "Which building, which building?" I finally break down and say, "I'm guessing it's that one there. You know the only one that has one of my buses parked out front of it." Because lo and behold after searching half of what is paradoxically both the greatest and shittiest city on the face of the Earth we have stumbled across my missing bus.

And then comes the final challenge. Figuring out how I'm going to steal the bus back...until I realize we're in Harlem. I simply walk across the street, bust into the bus, and fire the fucker up. I trade places with Benny and five minutes later we're on our way home.

By 11:30 I'm letting the dogs out and locking up, 13 minutes later I'm typing this. But as I do a certain melancholy falls over me, and I begin to wonder if the rest of my life is going to be as odd an agitating as today was. And then I'm floored by the realization that I just don't care, because either way, I know I'll get by.

"Doc says I'm sad. Doc says I'm depressed. Doc says life's got me down. Yeah... Doc says I need a pill to make me happy. Says I need to go on Once Daily Wellbutrin XL With a Low Risk of Sexual Side Affects. I said, Shit Doc, if I was getting laid I wouldn't need the fucking pill." - Lazarus Jones

I Know...

"You know there's that moment, where everything slows down. Where it's just the two of you. Where the whole world is nothing but the space between you and her. That moment where your eyes give you away, and your very voice betrays you. That moment where you say the things you never meant to say. I'm afraid I've never had that moment."

"Yes you have."

"Do you know something I don't know?"

"I know exactly what you know."

"That can be a very dangerous thing...knowing what I know."

"You've had that moment. I know. I was there."

I don't know what got me started tonight.

That's a lie.

I know exactly what got me started, I just don't want you to know. I'm funny like that sometimes. For a guy that wears his heart on his leave I sure do get secretive every now and then. I think it comes from the fact that no matter how much I put out there it doesn't matter, no one notices. I could say a million different things and people would barely even blink. But there are certain things...certain things that I could say that would turn your world upside down. So I don't say them. I do everything I can to assure that I don't make a difference.

But I can't just let it burn out...I need to talk about something, something special.

So I'll talk about Love.

And I'm not the kind of guy to capitalize like that, so you know I'm in a serious mood.

I have never been in Love. But I have loved more in my life than any man has a right to, and I suppose that makes all the difference. I have watched, and I have waited, but Love just keeps on passing me by and maybe it's because I've looked in all the wrong places but more likely it's because I haven't really looked at all.

But I have learned.

You can trick yourself. It's easy. You can tell yourself you love someone, tell yourself that you can't be whole without them, but the truth is if it's really Love then you don't need to tell yourself anything at all.

Just because you notice things about someone that other people don't, just because you think about them all the time, just because you know things you have no reason to know, and remember things you shouldn't remember doesn't mean it's Love. Those are things that happen when you're in Love, but that's not what Love is.

People like to keep pictures of the person they Love so that they can look at it and think about how great Love is, but I'd rather have their words than their picture. Because it's not what someone looks like that you love, it's who they are. And you can't tell who someone is by looking at their picture, you can only tell who someone is by knowing what they think, what they know.

I don't know. I really don't. I like to think I do sometimes, like to think that I know better than everyone else and that's why I stay away from it all, but sometimes I think that the truth is I just don't know what everyone else does. That I'm missing something.

And if that's what stopping me...then I'm afraid. Afraid I'll never get it. Afraid I'll spend the rest of my life one step away from everything I've ever wanted because it's too dark for me to see what's staring me right in the face. I think...

I think lots of things, and I think I shouldn't have started this when I wasn't really ready to finish it...but that's what you get sometimes. That's what happens when you come along for a ride while I'm looking for my place in this world.

I remember standing there...months ago now, and wondering where I was going. Wondering why I was there. I remember every second of every thing that happened that day, and the days leading up to it. I remember thinking that it was nowhere near perfect, but if this was as good as life got then I was kind of okay with that.

I've felt like that since then, and I've wondered if that is what Love really is. Maybe Love doesn't need anyone, and that's what makes it perfect. Every feeling, every emotion, every desire needs someone...except for Love.

It's the one thing in this world that we need more than it needs us.

Stoop A Little Lower Why Don't You?

"I know, I know...I'm a horrible person, but let's try and get over that." - King

"Acting is a career, directing is a career, writing is just a hobby that gets a little out of hand." - T.O. Hob

"Oh, Oh! And I'm supposed to remember your name too? Isn't that asking a little much?"- King

"Well you sure turned out ok. Wait...that was absolutely the wrong thing to say wasn't it?" - King

"Remember that time back in July when I lost my mind and tried to have myself commited to a mental institution? Well this is nothing like that." - Palomba

I have been living in the dark. One year ago today I started an odd little ritual which involved me not seeing the light of day for a full week. Without even realizing it today I started again. From sunset last night till sunset tonight I didn't leave my little apartment. Didn't open a window, peak through the shades, nothing. I lived in the dark...and I started it again. Now I have a job, something to force me into the sunlight. It pains me to no end that something so trivial as a career will momentarily pull me from the darkness...but I know the truth. No matter how bright the sun may shine, there is no light...we run on.

Permit me to be juvenile for a bit. A tiny bit immature.

I can't weave the words on this one. They're unweavable. So I'll just say it.

Have you ever liked something? There's a funny thing about liking things. I mean there's a lot of funny things about liking things. But one funny thing is that other people can actually make you like things less.

I know this is barely in English, but stay with me here.

So say there's someone you absolutely can't stand. And this person likes the same thing you do. Don't you begin to like it a little less? They don't even have to know you like it, they don't even have to say they like it, all they have to do is show that they don't have an absolute disdain for it and you begin to like it a little less. The fact that someone you can't stand likes the same thing you do almost ruins it for you.

And on the flip side. Say there's someone you adore, someone you think the world of. And they hate something you like. Don't you begin to doubt whether you like it or not? They don't even have to know you like it, they don't even have to say they hate it, all they have to do is hint that they look down on it just a little bit and you begin to like it a little less. The fact that someone you worship doesn't like the same thing you do almost ruins it for you.

I think perhaps I thought too much about this.

"God must not have been paying attention the last time he fucked me over, because guess what? He's doing it again." - Palomba

Smile Like You Mean It

"Hold my calls, I'll be indisposed for a moment."

"Duh."

"Don't put anyone through to my office, I'm going to be preoccupied."

"Uh."

"Hit the red button, I'm going to be taking a shit."

Five years of college I practically need a thesaurus to say I'm going to the can.

So the other day I was standing in my office and this woman I work with comes in and says hello, I smile and say hello. Think nothing of it.

Then yesterday the same woman came in after a very long day, on her way out the door she says goodbye. I smile and say, "Have a good night." She stops in the doorway and freezes between terror, anger, and befuddlement. I'm not sure what the hell just happened, but I can tell she's suddenly not happy and I feel badly because she's a nice woman, and I don't know exactly what she thinks I just said but whatever it was bothered her deeply. She stares at me for a second longer and I hold the smile for as long as I can without it getting creepy, finally she nods, shakes her head, and closes the door. We were the only ones who noticed something odd had just happened, and I'm not completely sure either one of us knew what it was.

I didn't realize till later...she's a pretty woman, and I'm me. Anything I say to her is a bad thing, even if it's just hello and goodbye.

But my odd women problems don't end there. I've been dodging phonecalls from this woman who sells supplemental insurance, and when I say woman I really mean girl because she can't be much older than me. This girl shouldn't be an insurance salesman she should be a model, but that's not the point. The point is I think supplemental insurance would be a nice thing to offer my employees. My father disagrees. And after I met with this girl and put the whole process in motion, he indirectly froze it. She doesn't know this, she thinks I put the stop on it which means she thinks she needs to convince me of something. So she's leaning on me...in the way pretty girls lean on guys like me. She wasn't pushing it when we met in person, but now that she sees the sale slipping away she's laying it on thick.

She wants me to think that she really wants to see me again. As we discuss the situation on the phone I think of how she would be acting in person, in part because I run everything over and over again in my head and in part because I'm a bit of a degenerate. This is the part where she would brush her hair back from her face, this is the part where she would lean over the desk while trying to explain something to me, this is the part where she would lick her lips while waiting for my response, this is the part where she would touch my hand and pretend to laugh at something silly I've said. Pretty girls know how to sell shit to ugly guys. This one sounds like she knows how it works real well...but she's never run up against a Palomba before. Problem is I really want what she's selling...I mean the insurance...I swear.

So anyway it's been a rough couple of days, and I may be getting myself into a whole lot of trouble with a whole lot of things. I'm about to change the way a few things are done, not in the easy way either. In the Palomba Way.

Wish me luck, not that it will do anyone any good.

Just To Clarify...I Was The One Dreaming Of Flying Monkeys

This is where the road divides,
this is where our dreams collide.
Yours to be normal,
and mine to be me.
Yours to be happy,
and mine to just see
how this hand plays out.
Because the chips are down baby,
and you can't take them back.
It just don't work like that.
So let it ride, just let it ride.
And when you feel that pain inside,
try and remember...
That This Is Where Our Roads Divide.

Crossing The Line

"Dude, she's so hot. Sometimes at night I dream of bending her over my desk and banging the shit out of her."

"Yeah. Sometimes at night I dream of flying monkeys sneaking into my bathroom and stealing my dental floss."

"Dude, You have issues."

"Yeah..."

Ah...the strange conversations the voices have inside my head.

But seriously folks...

So one thing has ended and another thing is on indefinite hiatus. Some things are changing, but I'm not really sure what good it will do. I know today was a beautiful day, but I still didn't get to do a single thing I wanted to do. Say a single thing I wanted to say. Or see a single person I wanted to see. Nothing has happened how I would have liked it to, but the day was still pretty decent.

The Warriors don't have the strength they used to, but The Afflictions are still in full on retreat. There are other things eating at me, not necessarily bigger things, but other things. Things which will no doubt try and keep me down.

Lots of time has passed. I've let go of certain things. Things I never really wanted to let go of. Let them slip away and tumble off into the twilight.

I am a fractured spirit, a broken man. I am what is left of it all.

The funny part is I always thought there was nothing left at all.

Maybe I was wrong.

But then again...maybe I was right.

An End To All Hob's Eve

I think it was Thursday that Hob came to me and mentioned that it was about time he be given his own holiday. At first I thought he meant a vacation, but then I realized Hob doesn't do very much in the first place. Turns out he wanted a day, a whole day, and to make things better an Eve as well. So joining the ranks of Christopher Columbus, Martin Luther King Jr., and the Easter Bunny...Hob now has his own holiday.

'Course since no one would really care either way we let Hob pick the day, and rather predictably he chose to make it as soon as possible, and give it a name which barely belies its grandeur. March 6th will forver more be All Hob's Day, so of course March 5th will be All Hob's Eve.

The first All Hob's Eve was a resounding success, spent at a bar with a bunch of great people and one bitter nasty fuck who, although I'm glad to count him as a friend, annoys me like you wouldn't belive. There were no celebrations, no commemorations, no toasts made or shots drank in Hob's name. It was a rather inauspicious start to a holiday which someday will be bigger than Christmas, or at least rival Boxing Day.

So to under-compensate for the awful beginning, I'll try and jumpstart things by writing about a few of my favorite Hobsian memories. I remember the first time I met the codgery old bastard. It was in the attic of 61 Richardson, I was half asleep when suddenly I knew there was someone in the room with me. I stared up from my mattress on the floor, the night-glo star stickers that covered the walls and ceiling providing the only light. And there, sitting in my old leather chair was a very strange, very naked old man. He was wearing only a hat and looked to be cold, but he seemed right at home sitting in my chair and tearing apart a pear with his stubby wrinkled fingers. He noticed my sudden awareness of his presence, and with a half-concerned shrug went back to what he was doing. I stared at him for a few moments trying not to blink, but I finally did, and when my eye opened after only a millisecond of being closed he was gone. I didn't know he was Hob at the time, but I somehow new we would be meeting again.

Months passed, Hob would appear in my room on occassion, sometimes on the stairway, or staring in the window, or crouched in the secret compartment, but never for long and never saying a word. One day he surprised me and I scolded himm saying he should never sneak up on me. It would be years before he showed up again. When Hob finally made his return, sometime in October of this year he seemed younger, more alert, an remarkably well dressed. This time he talked a little too...in fact we're still trying to figure a way to get him to shut-up.

So to commemorate his second tour of service, and his brand spanking new holiday. Here are some of Hobs favorite quotes from these past few months.

"Chianti is not an acceptable substitute for bourbon...but it'll sure do in a pinch." - T.O. Hob

"You don't dull a knife because its blade is too sharp, you simply find tougher things to cut."- T.O. Hob

"You haven't really lived until you spend all morning vomiting up orange juice and stale granola." - T.O. Hob

"A legend ain't a legend just because you say it is. Legends walk the walk." - T.O. Hob

"You hung a man who was meant to hang. What's so wrong about that?"- T.O. Hob

"I am well aware of your concern sir but can assure you that I have not had a drink in the past thirty-seven minutes and am therefore both exceptionally capable and shockingly overqualified to be driving a vehicle as such." - T.O. Hob

"You know what kid, you win half the battle just by showing up." - T.O. Hob

"When a man expects anything to happen, nothing can surprise him. When a man expects nothing to happen, anything can become a pleasant surprise." - T.O. Hob

"There's been a time in the evolutionary history of everything that works where it didn't. A time in the history of everything that is known when it wasn't." - T.O. Hob

"Old is when you stop worrying about how far you've come and start worrying about how far you've got left to go." - T.O. Hob

"It's going to be like Plato's Symposium, just with more red wine and less gay sex." - T.O. Hob

"Where have you gone, my fondest of friend? Where will you be tomorrow? Why did we stop...and not start again? Why don't you share in my sorrow?"- T.O. Hob's Ballad

"How does a man who knows so little, know about so much?" - T.O. Hob

"It ain't the parts kid, it's the wiring." - T.O. Hob

"The goal is to spread your obsessions thin enough that they simply become other things you're really really interested in." - T.O. Hob

"It's entirely too bad that no one in your life ever took the time to tell you to go fuck yourself. I'm convinced it would have done you a world of good." - T.O. Hob

"What do you have? An idea? Don't be a fool. What good is an idea when you don't have a world to work it on?" - T.O. Hob

"What now boy? Or did you like it better when you honestly thought you were just like everybody else?" - T.O. Hob

"You don't hold on because everything's perfect. You hold on because there's always just enough that's right to keep holding on to." - T.O. Hob

"You can learn a lot of things from listening to a man who has just lost a fight. Most importantly how important it is not to get into a fight in the first place." - T.O. Hob

"When you get sick of watching the walls crumble, call me." - T.O. Hob

"You know what, I'm going to go get me a Fat Bitch right now...and when I'm done with her I think I'll get a sandwich." - T.O. Hob, on The Rutgers Grease Truck Scandal (See the February 11th edition of The Daily Targum)

"You need not believe in what is or what isn't, you need only believe in what might be." - T.O. Hob

"To who we are, what we've done, and the great things I'm sure you're all going to do." - Hob's "A Toast to Friends"

"The love I have known in my life pales only in comparison to the love I had hoped to know." - T.O. Hob

Alright so Hob stole some of those from Montaigne, and Shakespeare, and the West Wing...and even some from me. But he meant well, at least I think he did.

I'm not sure where this is all going, not sure exactly what's going on in my life. I know I enjoyed myself tonight, and hope I can have more nights very much like this one. But outside of that, who knows? I'm in a tough place, but it's no tougher then where you are, and no tougher than the places I've been before. So I hope your All Hob's Eve was well, and here's to a Happy All Hob's Day...