So what are the key elements that will make my protector purr like a pussy cat? Brains. Let’s talk to the smart gals for a second. Your enormous cranial capacity is a huge turn on for him. But don’t be fooled into thinking that any old rocket scientist can land my bodyguard. No, ma’am. Smarts don’t to learned at college. They just need to be worked on, improved, growing. If you think you’ve learned enough and that life has nothing to teach you, well, first of all I laugh at your omnipotence. Second, I feel sorry for anyone who has given up on the adage of learning something new everyday. It’s crucial.
Music and movies. This is where things usually fall about. And I know that to some of you the idea of dismissing someone as a potential partner based on their taste in pop culture seems a bit extreme, but to the bodyguard these things are more important that what God a person chooses to follow or what political party they give their allegiance. A woman who finds Lady Gaga appealing, or the sugary syrup of Trace Adkins alluring, well she need not wonder if her and the bodyguard will last, they won’t. But if she can appreciate music she has never heard before, if she can enjoy the White Stripes and the Beatles, if she can be open to oddities, then she’s got a shot. As for movies. Well, look, not everyone has the Hollywood devouring appetite of Big Poppa. The guy watches everything. But if you can’t enjoy a big popcorn action movie as well as drama like Black Swan then save the guy a few bucks at the box office and move on to the next prospect.
So here’s the ad I have come up with: SWM, early 40’s (acts between 15-35 depending on situation) seeks SF, 28-40 for Mix disc swapping, hand holding, Oscar party attending, and trivia partner. Must love live music, must know who Han Solo is and what ship he piloted, must participate in silliness. Desire to attend Bonnaroo a huge plus.
I wonder if it will ever get a response.
Hey folks, BHC here. When there was nothing else, there was music. When the women of my past broke my heart, it was the musicians of the world that reminded me I wasn’t alone. When good times were being had, it was a song that became interwoven with those moments. Hearing just a snipet of that song brings the memory back like a flash flood. That soundtrack to your life is crucial in defining who you are and your base philosophies. So make sure the soundtrack doesn’t suck.
I feel blessed that the bodyguard has such a wide range of musical tastes. Each genre a glimpse into who he was when it came into his life. Punk rock, grunge, metal, funk, soul, jam bands, oldies, and of course rock all combine to make him the twisted clown he is today. And it was people that brought the music to him.
Wes, Don, and Wayne brought the punk rock. From the Dead Kennedys and the Ramones to Oingo Boingo and Dramarama the sounds of no responsibility never sounded so sweet. Brian Reynolds taught classic rock from the desk of a mattress store that smelled of Chicago style hot dogs. Travis and Cari got him wearing flannel and not cutting his hair for so long he came back to California looking a bit like a bloated Charles Manson. Then Cobain died and with him went a small piece of that one magical summer. Wally, Randy, and Steph turned him on to twenty minute jams that only sounded sweeter on a farm in Tennessee. Awesome people who gave the bodyguard a path and a style.
Some of the most profound influences on the bodyguard are two artists that he will always attribute to his mother. The Beach Boys. “God Only Knows” is the single greatest song ever recorded in my bobbley opinion. Sorry “Let it Be”. Suck it “Satisfaction”. And “Like a Rolling Stone” was only number 1 because the name of the magazine is in the song title. No disrespect intended Mr. Dylan. The sounds of California surf music always makes a bad day better. The other artist, Neil Diamond. “Holly Holy” is the song associated to the bodyguards proudest moment, the climax of his play “Loaded”. A song he would not have known if not for his mom.
So cherish your ears, people. Fill them with musicians. Real, tangible instruments. Go see a band live or meet me at Bonnaroo. No matter how you do it just make sure that you surround yourself with people worth remembering to a song that’s worth singing. Cause no one wants to be remembered as the “Macerena” guy.
Here it is. Tomorrow morning, though possibly afternoon as it is New Year’s Eve, I will post the following status update. “Hello world. Today I decide to be better…” That’s it. That’s all there is to it. I’m just going to decide to be better than I was the previous day. It may be that I decide to be better at my job, my relationships, my self, my charitable side, or I could just be talking in general. Each day I will decide to be a better bobble. A better friend to all of you. I will be a better writer, entertainer, and motorboater. Ok, that last one is gonna require quite a bit of practice ladies, so bring ’em on.
If you’re with me, just press the “like” button. Everyday. So I know that it’s touching others. Ok, insert “touching others” joke, moving on. If you are going to try to be better at something specifically then in the comments just type @ and whatever it is you are going to try to improve. @ my job, @ listening, @ loving, @ that thing with the cantaloupe and the snorkel, @ whatever. That way, I and the rest of the Nation, can be inspired by you. And then you’ll inspire someone else, and they will do the same. Endless streams of people trying to get better.
So that’s it. If you’re with me, great. If not, bummer, this is what I’m gonna do. The questions will still be around, just maybe a little later in the day. The Nation as it stands at this moment has just over 1,500 members. Awesome for such a short time. With this addition I think we will see our ranks grow to the might of taking down the American Idol runner-up whom I was modeled after. The only page that can get that many fans is the BHC Nation page @www.facebook.com/bhcnation. That’s the one that has to take him out. My challenge to you, Nation. I will be better, you help me grow til we eclipse him like a the dark side of the moon. And I would love to announce that just that has happened at The Big Bobble. That’s your challenge for the new year.
Have a great new year Nation. We all deserve it.
Keep on Nodding,
Hey folks. BHC here. I would like to spend a little time on this extraordinary day to rant about a philosophy. It’s a philosophy that came to my ears as innocently as a whisper from a good pal, a chum, an amigo as my Latin friends would say. When he said it there was no particular inflection in his voice, nor sinister motive, just the most basic thought ever. Do it till you can’t.
At first I thought it was a quitter of a slogan. It wasn’t as instantly uplifting as “Hang in there, baby” or as motivating as “Just Do It”, but when you take a moment to look at it a little closer it really isn’t about quitting. It simply implies that anything you do should be done until it can no longer be done. Let’s put it in a different context. Playing sports? Do it till you can’t. Doing a crossword puzzle? Do it till you can’t. Running a marathon? Do it till you can’t. Getting your drink on? Do it till you can’t, just don’t drive. Doing the horizontal bobble? DO IT TILL YOU CAN’T!
There are so many places in this wacky world we call life to use this simple philosophy. As I am setting goals for the New Year my main focus will be on getting the BHC Nation to have more members than a certain North Carolina born American Idol runner-up. It’s a daunting task to think of the Nation being over 12,000 strong, but I’m gonna do it till I can’t. Because the bigger the Nation gets, the bigger the food drives get, the bigger the nights out get, the more fun we will all have. And I know you will stand behind me, each of you suggesting the BHC Nation page to all your friends, sharing membership posts, sharing my blogs, helping me to help the world and you all do it till you can’t, and I love you for it.
So, do it till you can’t. If I think this applies to many things, there is one that it should be tied to indefinitely. Love till you can’t. Love with all the desire in your heart. Love with every fiber of your being and then love some more. Love like its oxygen. Love like there is nothing more powerful in the world. Because there isn’t, except Chuck Norris. Love till you can’t and I will do the same.
Love ya Nation,
Inductee #5: Mike McDonnell. Let me tell you about this guy I know. When you read his writing, the first thought that will go through your mind is, this guy is angry in a good way. The second thing you will notice is that he isn’t afraid to let a good story ramble on at a pace all its own. You’d think he gets paid by the letter. And I tease him because, well, that’s just the kind of guy he is. He’s like a little bear cub with a taste for human. Here’s something else about this guy, I’ve never met him in person. Not once. Never spoken on the phone nor received some twisted Christmas card with his Chester mustache creepily looking up the skirt of one of Santa’s helper elves. I don’t know if he sounds like Mr. T or Mike Tyson, though from looking at his mug, I’m betting it’s a cigarette harshened Bea Arthur. And even though I’ve never done any of those things with Mike McDonnell, this dude is my friend.
Back in the old days there was this blog on Myspace. One Man Asylum it was called. Mine was a Facebook birth so I’ve never read it, heard good things. Anyway, this other blog on that site at the same time was called Texts, Drugs, and Rock-n-Roll. That’s Mike. Personified him for me in a way that few titles, be it movie, album, blog, ever have. One Man Asylum says a lot, but Texts, Drugs, and Rock-n-Roll, that was something you wanted, no NEEDED, to be a part of. It’s like being part of the Nation. It’s bigger than you and it’s inviting and it’s loud but you want, no NEED, to be involved in it.
There are very few people who I friend requested in the beginning. Mike was one of the first on my list. I knew when I decided that I was gonna include the Bobblog in this amusement park that he would be a must have. If there was a guy who would help spread the Nation across the nation, it was Mike. And he did that with as much gusto as Andy Dick judging a sausage swallowing competition. He was all over it from the get go. Thank you Mike. You’re one of the great guys. Not allowed in 4 states, but still, dude, great guy.
Inductee #4 – Jules Thompson Raxter. Every now and then you come across someone who changes your entire life. Jules is one of them changes. I’m not lying when I say that being around her feels like you’re in a different time zone, like daylight savings time, but it’s just eternal shine. She F*$@ing glows. It’s ridiculous. She’s 1.21 gigawatts of wonderful. And I heard about Jules from TJ. She was the Master of Ceremonies at the Biker Boyz Gone Wild event and pulled it off without the assistance of a working microphone. Seriously, she’s a trooper. She is also part of this spectacular entity known as the Extended Biker Family Events. This is awesome! As a lot of folks in the world look at bikers as mean people who do horrible things, she shows them the compassionate, loving side of good people. The truth is there is more compassion and quality of individual in the biker world than there is “normal” society. I will stick by the statement. Swear I gotta learn to ride one of them things more than 12 feet without crashing. Bucket list item: Learn to ride.
When Jules came on the BHC Nation scene she did it with a passion that I have found she uses for everything in her life. She is the living embodiment of what I stand for. Love, compassion, fun, and support. I will never forget the day before Thanksgiving. Until that point Jules had dealt with me only online, as most of you have, but on that Wednesday I showed up at the End Zone. As she opened my Patron box her eyes popped out of her head like Bugs Bunny when he sees the girl bunny. And then there was this noise. Some of you out there are familiar with the noise of which I am speaking. A high-pitched shrill squeal of pure delight. With the sound still echoing through the bar she snatched me out the box and paraded me around. At each table I was met with another squeal from other members of the Nation. She got onstage and told everyone in the place how I was all about love and Bobblehead Clay was a good man. She then let me sit in with the Oneppo Brothers Band. It was a good time.
Jules wants a one word definition for what I, and the BHC Nation is: I’m an interactive philosophy. It’s the shortest answer I can come up with as, thanks to people like Jules, I am still evolving. Ever changing. Ever growing. Ever bobbling.
Jules and the Extended Biker Family have taken me to their bosom, and you know how much I love a good motorboat. She is an amazing woman who has a heart the size of a planet. It baffles me how such a big heart is housed in a human body and I have much to learn from her in that regard. Together I have a feeling that Jules and I can actually change the world. That’s an awesome feeling to have, and I never would have it if I hadn’t had the privilege of knowing her.
So thank you to Jules Thompson Raxter. A simple induction into the Order of the Notorious is hardly enough to convey what you mean to me and the Nation, but right now it’s the best I can do. I love you so much. Thank you for everything.
Inductee #3: TJ Comer (Miss Empire). Now I know what you’re thinking, “That’s an ugly tranny.” And you’d be right, TJ would make an ugly woman. But as a bro he’s top notch. He dawned that ridiculous get up for a charity event called Biker Boyz Gone Wild, where he represented our local gathering spot, Empire Pizza and Bar. Here’s the kicker, pretty much every biker beauty at the event was drunk. I mean, it takes a couple of cocktails to get the body ready to strut around a bar full of bikers while wearing an evening gown. But TJ was sober. That amazed me. Had I been in the hands of any other barbarian in Vera Wang no one knows the places and things I would have seen. That’s a horrifying thought. But TJ would no doubt keep me safe. He did and we had a blast. But TJ’s influence on the BHC Nation doesn’t end with a simple charity event. He’s way more important to the bodyguard than even TJ imagines.
This guy selflessly promotes BHC and believes in the messages of love and compassion. He listens to the bodyguard as schemes are hatched, blogs talked about, charity events planned. He’s going to be instrumental in The Big Bobble, a charity concert that we are going to pull off in the spring. TJ is the first sounding board for everything that you see on the page, in the blog, and in the future. He has introduced me to people that have made the impossible, totally possilbe. As the bodyguard slips into BHC more and more, it’s TJ, Wally, and Emily that pull him out and remind him that he’s a real boy. That’s a service that you usually have to pay extra for, triple in parts of Thailand, but I assure you TJ knows nothing about those kind of things. (Side to TJ: Dude, I told you I could include the Thailand thing in a “classy” way). It’s also a service that is essential. The bodyguard does need time to be himself and TJ is most helpful in that capacity.
TJ Fun Fact: Limber as a gymnast.
So thank you TJ Comer! Your place in the Order of the Notorious was inevitable from the start. Thank you for all the advice, the support, the help, and just for being a good man and friend. You’re one of the good guys and the Nation is lucky that you exist.