The Council of Rob

Here's the official logo. Marketing, as we all know, is everything.


"I hate that you always know the right thing to say at the exact right time."

My favorite junk e-mails are the ones that ask you to answer a series of generic "get-to-know-you" questions. You're usually at work and you need a break from the grind or you're just tired of trying to get into cool porn sites without paying anything. Or you're bored. Whatever. You know, the typical reasons.

These kinds of e-mails are the biggest give-up e-mails that truly speak to how uninterested we are in actually attempting to understand the complexities of those we know. We live in an age where we'd rather just ask a few tough questions like "Coke or Dr. Pepper?" and come to a point where we're sure we've got someone pegged. These kinds of surveys truly confirm that the only people we're more bored and uninterested in besides ourselves are our friends. "Your favorite pizza topping is pepperoni? Like, OMG, I think we're soulmates!" Douchebags.

Well I am nothing if not a hypocrite. I've totally filled out these kind of surveys before. That's how all of you know that my "favorite vacation was when I went to Grand Cayman in high school" when in actuality my real favorite vacation was a roadtrip I took with my best friend to Arkansas to see my grandmother. We shared a carton of Marlboro Lights and listened to Violent Femmes and Weird Al Yankovic. But I always put that Grand Cayman answer because I'm weak and I fall prey to the desire to impress. Grand Cayman is to Arkansas as Catherine Zeta-Jones is to Meg White. Sure I'd like to have a day long hard love strongfest with Catherine. But I'd marry Meg in a heartbeat. The SAT verbal is so my bitch.

My overall point is that these surveys are bullshit. They do more to convey what we want to present to everyone else rather than who we actually are. As many of you know, I actually believe that you learn more about people based on what they like as opposed to who they say they are. This is because the vast majority of us (including myself) aren't capable of really putting into words who we are. For the most part, we're judged on our actions and our tastes. I'm not going to try to tell you who I am. Chances are, you won't listen or you'll get bored. The things and people I like are much more interesting. Besides, if I try really hard to talk about who I am, I may figure out that I'm not as interesting as I'd like to believe. I know I'm not alone in all this.

"I need to know that I'm not your rebound."

So it is in this vein, that I present The Council of Rob. These are the people who influence my thinking, my actions, my heartaches, my joys, my insanity, my desperation, my hopes, my insecurities, my bravery, my confidence, etc. Think of it as a pictoral guide to the sexy enigma that is Rob.



Ryan Adams

Eloquent. Snob. Heartbreaker. Asshole. Heartfelt. Drunk. Genuis. Storyteller. Destroyer. Creator. Heart. Heart. Heart.









Duncan Ferguson

Big. Mean. Passionate. Scottish (so probably drunk). Timely. Clutch. Sometimes hero. Fuck all. Viva Hate.









Vince Vaughn

Sarcasm. Wit. Style. Asshole. Brilliant. Cocky. Cock. Laugher. Smiler. Killer.
















Jesus

Character. Principle. Guts. Compassion. Devotion. Leader. Sacrifice. Beauty. Hope. Son of God (Doesn't that pretty much trump everything? It's like something that can beat, rock, paper, AND scissors!)







Jeff Tweedy (Wilco)

Soul. Conflict. Seeker. Doubt. Genius. Perfectionist. Stubborn. Innovator. Musician. Talent. Worker. Principled. Creative.

















Morrissey

Elitist. Talent. Ego. Sad. Snob. Groundbreaker. Biting wit. Better. Best. Sarcasm. Isolated. Troublemaker. Legend.












Charles Bukowski

Poet. Self-destructive. Cynic. Dark. Drunk. Insight. Lover. Bastard.
















"We can hang out. We can't date. I can't date. I don't like to move fast."

Juliana Hatfield

Female conscience. Fragile. Rough. Tough. Sensitive. Despair. Lonely. Crazy. Survivor. Last remaining remnant of the ex. Rocker. Doubt. Lament. Sarcastic. Self-reliant.














Brett Hull

Brett makes the list for scoring the Stanley Cup-winning goal for my Dallas Stars back in 1999 on my birthday. My pants still go crazy everytime I see a replay.













Gordon Keith

Comical. Dark. Uncomfortable. Wit. Brilliance. Abrasive. Insanity. Unappreciated. Posterboy of underachievement. Student of evil. Station cancer. The devil's own.











"I'm sorry we stopped talking. You didn't do anything wrong. I was just starting to feel like you were treating me like a girlfriend."

And thus concludes the current and up to date, Council of Rob. As Supreme Dark Overlord King Maji of the Council of Rob, I reserve the right to make any changes at any time. There are definitely a few in the pipeline right now that are under some serious consideration. Jack White. Bill Murray. The guy who shoots Jared from Subway in the head.

Now, if you've read all the way, I'll answer the little riddle some of you must be vexed by: "Who the fuck are all these randomly-placed quotes from?" (That was not one of them. I said that.)

They are from the first girl I was semi involed with after the big breakup. I found out yesterday that she's engaged to be married. When I first heard this news, I was hacked off. After hearing all of the aforementioned statements during our brief and ill-fated tryst, she was the last person I pegged for marriage, especially considering she has been seeing her fiance for about two months. It's not that I'm still pining for her. It's that I'm pining for me. What the fuck is so wrong with me that she couldn't even date me but yet she can marry this guy?

I spent a considerable amount of time being angry and bitter regarding this yesterday. I was mad at her but more let down by myself. Was this the greatest confirmation of how mediocre I actually am? But today, I've come to a different and more optimisttic conclusion.

She never really went through a laundry list of questions to get to know me. Nor did I try to provide her with one. Instead, in the most honest of ways, I told and showed her the things and people I love. In this way, she knew and knows me pretty well. And knowing what she knew, she figured out (consciously or sub-consciously, it doesn't really matter) that we would never, ever work. I never lied about who I was or what I loved or what shaped me. I didn't ever bullshit her with some flimsy description of who I think I am. I showed her. And I never once apologized for any of it. I gave honesty and got honesty back. And I learned that when you get it back, honesty isn't always self-affirming or ego-stroking or pretty. It just is what it fucking is. All things considered, that's all I should ever hope for or expect.

With that mind, I can genuinely wish her and her fiance the absolute best and actually mean it. And by the way, the relative brevity of their relationship doesn't bother me and shouldn't bother anyone else. Sometimes, you know when you know. Time doesn't guarantee shit. I have the last five years of my life as proof of that. Those were five years I was angling for good or happy instead of real. And I spent even more of that time lying about who I was and apologizing for what I wanted. Tonight I shall sleep with the knowledge that I've gained more insight into what makes a successful existence in 24 hours than I had gained in the previous half decade.

Speaking of honesty, I am honestly great.