Remarkable Rob-ness…

Before we get to today's My Side, let me get this out of the way. I hit the 80,000 word mark today. The plan now is to work the points of the essay into the climax of the book, which will now be drawn out over three chapters, rather than two. I'll end up with probably 90,000 words, my shortest book since My Side, my first, but that's okay.

Now, on to the show….

Yeah, 80,000. I'm stoked.

Here's a clip: Allowing one child to think it's okay to hurt anyone can be disastrous. This is how Hitlers are born. This is how vampires propagate.

I'm sorry… where was I?...

Ah, yes!

Rob!

Robert Sassone. (I knew him as a boy.) Born 1966. Haven't seen in: Forever. Reads My Side: Often. Eats goldfish: Only once and it was late and he's just seen A Fish Called Wanda and…

Rob and I probably wouldn't recognize each other if we passed on the street but, believe it or not (believe it), there was once a time when we were inseparable. No, no handcuff or crazy glue jokes. I'm serious. We got along famously for many years and then life, that bitch, pulled us off in different directions. Oh, we've dropped each other the occasional line now and then. Thankfully, this Blog helps me pass along messages, too.

I took a lot from those years we were tied at the hip. Even today, I can't look at certain things or hear certain things without thinking of Rob.

Here's an example of each…

Tim came up from San Diego last week. The last time he'd done that, he decided to raid my fridge at about 3am. We knew we couldn't afford another hit like that… what to do? What to do?

And then it came to me. SALAMI.

"Salami?" Vicky sounded like I'd just suggested neck skin… not that there's anything wrong with neck skin.

So, I had to explain to her, "You know how Tim and I get together and drink? Well, Rob and I used to get together, kick about, shoot the breeze, and eat salami. Those big, dried ones they sell at the store. We'd just cut off a hunk and talk. Salami and cheese. Those were the days!"

But, sadly, one of the points of this, Rob, is that the good, old days are long done. Vicky sliced the salami and cheese into a nice platter… and it was actually better than slicing off a hunk and talking. Okay, so we'll leave that to the past. Still, it was like you were there, too.

I can never listen to Planet P or Planet P Project - one band with two names from the 80's - without thinking of Rob. One scream from Tony Carey's voice and I'm back in Rob's parent's station wagon, driving to a rehearsal or to Rick Habib's place up in Hollywood. Yep. Good times.

But, sadly, one of the points of this, Rob, is that the good, old days are long gone. I picked up the newest Planet P Project cd a couple of months ago on Amazon… and it arrived this week. (I hate Amazon!) Tony Carey wasn't screaming like he used to… in fact, he sounded… old…

The years pass and times fade into the mist but the people who share our lives pop up now and then even when they're not there and it's always nice to see them because it reminds us how much fun we had along the way.

Thanks, Rob.