There aren’t Twelve. Only Two so far. Neither of the two labors involve multi-headed demon-dogs or really messy stables or a Hesperian Apple, but they are laborious in terms of time-consuming.
Oh, I have found the original first draft of Carolina Married A Stripper!
Labor #1: Taking a stack of photo albums almost five feet high and scanning and reducing all the photos to a thumb drive. (Thumb drive? Look it up, Albert. Just keep reading.)
Labor #2: Go thru all 1650+ incredibly insightful BobLeeSays columns and put them in some retrievable order for posterity. So far I have well over 50 that prominently feature either “Call me Dickie” or Mikey Nifong. Those figures are expected to grow as I get into the next 500 or so. The “After Marvin hit SEND” Era will be heavy “Dickie-centric”. The Nifong Era ended about six years ago followed closely by Rielle-omania. Like buses, there’s always-another celebrity nincompoop coming along.
Pierce just learned that Nincompoop is a very magnetic keyword to put in a column title. ☺
Labor #3: Once #1 and #2 are completed, we will be de-junkifying our attic. You may recall: The single greatest legacy one can leave one’s children is – An Empty Attic.
We are 85% thru a full-scale declutterization of BobLee&Blondie World HQ. We’re already thru the Haven’t worn it in a year – pitch it and So tell me again why we are saving this stages. It is very cathartic (“Cathartic” ?…. google it Albert. “Google it”?).
There is an old joke about: “A guy shows up at the East German border each morning pushing a wheelbarrow. The border guards check the wheelbarrow for any contraband the guy might be trying to smuggle out. Find nothing, let him pass. The guy does this every day for a month. After 30 days the guy has smuggled out…. 30 wheelbarrows!” I love that story.
Sorta related. If you get rid of enough objects d’art, bric-a-brac and “junk you won at The Fair” you don’t need as many shelves and/or plastic storage tubs. Using large storage tubs to store smaller storage tubs (like those little Russian wooden dolls) is not the sign of a functioning brain.
Aside: My dearly departed 92 y/o mom left 238 empty Cool Whip tubs in her pantry…. and A LOT of used aluminum foil. Why she didn’t store the aluminum foil inside the Cool Whip tubs is a question I meant to ask her, but never did. Plus, I don’t recall us ever having Cool Whip on anything ??
The photo albums were in the afore-mentioned storage tubs. Kid was born in 1988 so her millions o’pictures early years were pre-cellphone camera era. We must have financed dozens of Walgreen Pharmacies with our photo-developing dollars. Kid was THE cutest little kid that ever (1) played with Cheerios in her high chair or (2) let Mom dress her up in mom-made Halloween costumes. Don’t regret a single one of those pics but there sure are A LOT of them. Kid Year Two had its own album.
Pulling pages from albums and laying’em on the scanner is hardly a complicated task if you can avoid snapping the notebook rings on your hand. That hurts.
I started out labeling each individual picture file. That lasted thru over 200, which I was pretty proud of. Then I decided Kid will need something to do in 2032 on acid rainy days so the rest are just “image3589” and so on.
Kidding aside….. the labor of converting umpteen photos to digital images is really a cool time as you relive the experiences captured in the photos. As noted, the fact that Kid was one of THE Top Five Cutest Kids EVER made it especially enjoyable. Those of you with the other four understand, I’m sure.
I have a 26” stack of photo albums yet to scan. I’ll be done before they find that stoopid lost airplane. Am I the only one wondering if the pilot was Amelia Earhart’s grandson or Bo Rein’s kid.
Labor #2: Chronicling all the 1,650+ BLSays columns is equally a pleasurable trip down Memory Lane. Damn, I wrote some AWESOME stuff in those first 4-5 years. The column titles alone were legendary. I still give “good title”; but 2001 was an especially good year for colorful column titles.
I’m pulling the Especially Incredibly Insightful ones and putting them in a special folder entitled Especially Incredibly Insightful Columns or EIIC for short.
What prompted this Labor was the BIG 50th Reunion last weekend. Dear Friend Ed introduced me by referencing several especially good’uns that I had forgotten.
Oh, oh, oh…. all of you in North Carolina have seen those Whitley Law Firm (WLF) infomercials at 3 AM, right? Bob and the Missus were at The Reunion and are the newest BobLeeBuddies. Negotiations are already underway for WLF to be The Official Trial Lawyers for BLSays. “Personal Injury” IS always a possibility in my line of work fer sure. AND we added a hospital administrator / corporate jet mechanic duo from W-Salem. Cool, huh?
A little Internet Legend insight. Once I post a column and we do the Reader Comment dance for 3-4 days, I completely forget it. It’s in the archives and in back-up Word files but I clear it out of my conscious thought.
Several weeks after a column, I might run into a reader who references it. “I loved that column you wrote about _____.” “Thank you. What did I say about it?” Like an artist who sells his paintings. Once posted, they belong to you.
My current exercise has reminded me of one truism I’ve always known. Random columns are MUCH more fun that endless columns on never-ending crapola that goes on and on and on.
Twenty-eight columns on Duke Lacrosse, fifteen on Queen Mary Easley & Howdy Doody McQueen and now a bazillion-plus-a million-and counting on The Great Unpleasantness. AAARRGGHH!
Yes, these high profile trainwrecks have to be discussed so I discuss them. Buried among the umpteen on a single issue are some real treasures for sure….. but how many ways can one say “Carolina Way bwahahaha”. “Dickie was a Nitwit etc etc” always sells out in West Raleigh and other ABC high-traffic areas.
The Great Unpleasantness is like “a quicksand bog meets a landfill tire fire”. There is no bottom to it! Everything just keeps sinking deeper and deeper. Institutional Suicide By a 1,000 Really Stoopid Decisions. Drip drip drip ….. glub glub glub.
Tear down the rafters….. Implode Dean’s Dome….. Salt Kenan’s greensward….. Force poor ol’ Dean to take the perp walk dragging Roy on a leash. WHATEVER!
At some point PLEASE tar & feather Dickie and hang him upside down by his little feet from the Bell Tower. Then we can all go exploring for fresh human foolishness to poke with our stick.
Oh. I found the original first draft of Carolina Married A Stripper aka: the Casablanca and Gone With The Wind of BobLeeSays columns; at least of the New Millenium. Going thru all 1650+ is going to take awhile. A pleasant “while”. I hope the archivists at the Internet Provocateur Hall of Fame appreciate how easy I’m making their future job.
I think I’ll turn on the NCAA Women’s Tournament and see how quick that can put me to sleep. 5-4-3-….. zzzzzzz.