tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-65456442009-10-15T00:46:32.046-04:00Robertnoreply@blogger.comBlogger86125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6545644.post-1096896381715912962004-10-04T09:24:00.000-04:002004-10-04T09:26:21.716-04:00

If you're one of the wonderful people who've got my blog bookmarked, please update your files for my new home. (I can't afford to lose any of my three readers!) robertsheard.com

Robertnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6545644.post-1096652243175536712004-10-01T13:36:00.000-04:002004-10-01T13:38:44.596-04:00

Nothing proves to me that we see what we want to see more than today’s reactions to last night’s debate. I hesitate even to write about it because I’m so sick of American politics that I’m ready to move to another country. But I did watch the debate—probably against my better judgment. And listening to the reaction of folks in my store and the coffee shop next door, I have to think that they

Robertnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6545644.post-1096566929800448742004-09-30T13:52:00.000-04:002004-09-30T14:50:02.423-04:00

It seems like an easy choice, but is it? If you had the option, would you want to know what happens in the future? I’m not talking about the Miss Cleo 900-number kind of future. I mean you could actually see the future—in vivid detail—before it happens in “real” time. The book I’m reading now deals with such a situation. The husband has a genetic deformity that causes him to time travel when he’

Robertnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6545644.post-1096471091888450682004-09-29T11:16:00.000-04:002004-09-29T11:20:05.580-04:00

I know it shouldn’t matter if I post anything on any given day or not, but I’m trying to make writing a daily habit, even if the writing is just a blog entry. But I’m finding it hard and it frightens me what that says about the scope of my life. I read a lot—other people’s great adventures, or at least imagined ones—and I watch a lot of movies on DVD (same story, different medium). But I don’t

Robertnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6545644.post-1096380179989343692004-09-28T10:01:00.000-04:002004-09-28T10:02:59.990-04:00

At a Santa Fe gas station: WE WILL SELL GASOLINE TO ANYONE IN A GLASS CONTAINER. In a men’s clothing store: 15 MEN’S WOOL SUITS—$100—THEY WON’T LAST AN HOUR! In a Chinese restaurant: IF YOU ARE SATISFACTORY PLEASE TELL YOUR FRIENDS. IF YOU ARE NOT SATISFACTORY PLEASE TELL THE WAITER. In the vestry of a New England church: WILL THE LAST PERSON TO LEAVE PLEASE SEE THAT THE PERPETUAL LIGHT IS

Robertnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6545644.post-1096305859885979492004-09-27T13:23:00.000-04:002004-09-27T13:24:19.886-04:00

This is going to be one of those Mondays when it’s hard to be positive. Besides the weather sucking (Jeanne’s slowly making her way here): I haven’t heard a word on the job in Washington. It may not be bad news since it’s possible they haven’t made interview decisions yet, but it certainly ain’t good news. I haven’t heard anything from my agent on my book deal. I’ve only sold one book in the

Robertnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6545644.post-1096221128173410532004-09-26T13:39:00.000-04:002004-09-27T14:56:16.156-04:00

In the book world, it must be the week for getting lost in the wilderness and having to do unspeakable things with knives. As I mentioned before, one of the hot books is Aron Ralston's Between a Rock and a Hard Place. The book I read this week, though, was Journal of the Dead: A Story of Friendship and Murder in the New Mexico Desert. After several days lost in the desert without water, Dave

Robertnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6545644.post-1096146876071793342004-09-25T17:08:00.000-04:002004-09-25T17:15:58.213-04:00

I’m stuck at the store for extra hours today because coffee chick has live music tonight and it is usually decent business for me. For the next two hours, though, I’ve got virtually nothing to do so I’m gonna sit my butt right here and blog away. Newcastle United has won every game since firing Sir Bobby. That’s also when I stopped wearing my team jersey on game days. Coincidence? Now that we’

Robertnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6545644.post-1096047904797466772004-09-24T13:41:00.000-04:002004-09-24T13:45:04.796-04:00

Today in The Pilot, the three-issue-a-week newspaper for Moore County, North Carolina, we might be seeing signs that the economy isn’t quite picking up like the folks inside the Beltway want us to believe—especially for our senior citizens. In one case, sheriff’s deputies arrested a 79-year-old man for possession of crack, marijuana, and illegal firearms. In another case, sheriff’s deputies

Robertnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6545644.post-1095965586711790462004-09-23T14:50:00.000-04:002004-09-23T14:53:06.710-04:00

I don’t claim to understand the financial structure of Major League Soccer, and in fact, I’m a relatively new fan to soccer overall, but there are some problems with the MLS that, until fixed, will keep it locked in as a second-rate league. Let’s just take the conference system as an example. The ten teams are divided into two conferences. In the Eastern Conference, only one of the five teams

Robertnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6545644.post-1095879073834478442004-09-22T14:48:00.000-04:002004-09-22T14:51:13.836-04:00

I’m going to have to start being more careful what I read and listen to in the car. I often listen to audio books in the car—usually titles I wouldn’t read otherwise. It passes the time and lets me know a little about authors and books I’m not familiar with. The one I’m listening to at the moment—and I’m not sharing the title because it’s unmitigated chick-lit and could be used against me in any

Robertnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6545644.post-1095782893520857512004-09-21T13:07:00.000-04:002004-09-21T22:43:12.003-04:00

There’s a lot of buzz right now about Between a Rock and a Hard Place, the story of Aron Ralston’s mishap in a Utah canyon that left him with one arm pinned between the canyon wall and a boulder. After several days, his only chance to escape was to break his own arm (both bones) and then cut it off. Journal of the Dead is somewhat along those lines, too. Two friends get lost in a canyon, or at

Robertnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6545644.post-1095704127371776442004-09-20T14:07:00.000-04:002004-09-20T14:15:27.370-04:00

On a scale of 1 to 10, yesterday comes in at about 8. After a week of rough weather—thank you Ivan—it couldn’t have been more beautiful here Sunday. That allowed me to get on my bike with the youth and herself for a few trips around Reservoir Park. I packed up the new camera and had quite the time experimenting. Afterwards we went through the horticulture gardens at the local college. Haven’t

Robertnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6545644.post-1095601175709461982004-09-19T09:38:00.000-04:002004-09-19T09:44:26.580-04:00

I have to hand it to Chuck Klosterman (Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs: A Low Culture Manifesto). He’s taken some out-there topics, argued wittily and cleverly for their relevance, and used the lowest of low-brow cultural examples to make his points in a very enjoyable and quirky collection of essays. I don’t know hipster culture—music, movies, snarky columnists—but it was fun watching Klosterman

Robertnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6545644.post-1095524111847132772004-09-18T13:14:00.000-04:002004-09-18T13:37:55.180-04:00

Sit down and shut the hell up already! The youth had his second game this morning—cool, windy, and rainy, but it’s soccer—play on. Unfortunately we have one parent on our side who thinks his precious son needs his own personal coach, non-stop for the entire 50 minutes. (The kids play 25-minute halves.) “Austin, do this. Austin, do that. Over here. Over there. Way to go, Austin.” The

Robertnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6545644.post-1095354302643954392004-09-17T09:00:00.000-04:002004-09-17T20:29:18.476-04:00

I’m addicted to blogging, but I'm cool with that. I got into Blogger in 2002, but after several months got side-tracked and left off for a while. Then I backed into it again through a family blog and a semi-regular blog I kept for clients when I used to manage money. Now I’m blogging just for its own sake and loving it. But I’m beginning to wonder if all the attendant technology is good for me.

Robertnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6545644.post-1095294793912600852004-09-16T09:00:00.000-04:002004-09-16T10:12:12.623-04:00

I am perfectly aware that I am not among the techno-widget elite. I don’t have a PDA or a digital video camera (although I do have a new awesome digital camera). Hell, I don’t even have an iPod yet (hint, hint). As far as cell phones go, I have a simple el-cheapo Panasonic that has suited my very basic needs for the last few years. But now it’s dead. Technically, the phone is fine. The battery,

Robertnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6545644.post-1095265601790052132004-09-15T13:15:00.000-04:002004-09-15T12:29:45.076-04:00

The Scene: the kitchen, 8:30 a.m. yesterday. Himself was on his way out the door. Herself was at the sink, soon to be on her way out the door to day 1 of a new part-time job. Himself: You know you’re worth it. Why don’t you demand a raise today? Herself: delivers withering look.** **From the Dictionary of Withering Looks: “When are you going to grow up?”

Robertnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6545644.post-1095177888269442162004-09-14T11:49:00.000-04:002004-09-14T12:07:04.016-04:00

September seems as if it's going to be a month of big changes. As I've written here before, about a week ago I made public my intention to sell my bookshop. I've had a couple of people express some interest, though nothing definite. But just two days after I made my announcement, coffee chick announced that they're moving and that she'll be selling the coffee shop. I have no idea how that will

Robertnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6545644.post-1095088873789923772004-09-13T11:15:00.000-04:002004-09-14T23:13:23.190-04:00

Why do I let asshats bother me so much? Just a few minutes ago I did a Post Office run. I'm sitting at a red light, just listening to some music and not thinking about anything in particular. When the light turns red I hit the gas but have to stop because the guy opposite me, who's turning left, decides that he's more important than the traffic laws and bolts across my path rather than wait the

Robertnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6545644.post-1095032738960716852004-09-12T19:41:00.000-04:002004-09-13T23:44:20.426-04:00

It’s hard to imagine a much better way to spend a Sunday. Usually Sundays are totally lost days, spent sleeping, napping, then sleeping again. And by the time Monday rolls around, I don’t feel like I’ve really had a “day off.” Today, though, just seemed so different. I woke up early—which in its own right is news—and watched a soccer game I recorded yesterday. Then after breakfast I spent a

Robertnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6545644.post-1094942612056198512004-09-11T18:41:00.000-04:002004-09-11T18:50:48.990-04:00

The youth's first soccer game was this afternoon. The mighty Earthquake began the season with a 1-0 victory over the Crew. Yay team. Here are links to a few of the other opening day festivities. Pregame Pose A Sellout Crowd I'm Open! Anyone Have a Dictionary? Good Game, Good Game

Robertnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6545644.post-1094841721426405332004-09-10T14:40:00.000-04:002004-09-10T21:36:58.776-04:00

This is the result when uninspired people get their hands on new toys. Stop me before I take more mundane shots.

Robertnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6545644.post-1094841121533480162004-09-10T14:30:00.000-04:002004-09-10T14:32:01.533-04:00

You know how when you’re waiting for news that will either be really great or will send you into a pit of despair, each time the phone rings you die a little bit? That’s what it has been like for me lately, waiting to hear from my agent about my current project proposal. Sure enough, he called this morning, and when I heard his voice I didn’t know how to feel and I realized I was holding my

Robertnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6545644.post-1094741275862151692004-09-09T10:31:00.000-04:002004-09-09T10:48:53.896-04:00

Word is starting to filter around the community that I'm looking to sell or close my bookshop. It's amazing to me that people who have never shopped here, or who have done so very infrequently, are coming in to tell me that they don't want the store to leave. It's a simple equation, people. If you don't buy books here, the store disappears. Not one of my vendors has yet accepted your good

Robertnoreply@blogger.com0