EMET

Some people are just born different. ‘Different’ is a word Bob Daniels’ family, friends, and acquaintances frequently fall back on when asked to describe Bob. In school, he was known for kicking ass on tests, for being the kid who got all the trumpet solos, and for being a first rate smart-ass in class. He was also hypersensitive to criticism and a dumbass for thinking he was prepared to be a music major in college.

After he failed miserably (i.

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Some people are just born different. ‘Different’ is a word Bob Daniels’ family, friends, and acquaintances frequently fall back on when asked to describe Bob. In school, he was known for kicking ass on tests, for being the kid who got all the trumpet solos, and for being a first rate smart-ass in class. He was also hypersensitive to criticism and a dumbass for thinking he was prepared to be a music major in college.

After he failed miserably (i.e. his subconscious kicked him out of the music business), Bob decided going to work every day as a fighter pilot wouldn’t be a bad day job. So he worked his ass off for once, got a degree in basket weaving, aced the test, beat out a couple hundred other morons for 1st Honor Graduate at Officer Training School, won TOP GUN in his F-15 class, and did just about everything an F-15 pilot does . . . and then some. One of the perks was his fighter pilot peers beat the hypersensitivity out of Bob. And need being the mother if invention, he discovered in any given crowd he was always the most creative guy there no matter what the problem or issue. Guess what?

Commanders don’t like creative smart-asses with ideas.

So Bob left the Air Force to write a save-the-world’s-ass book . . . and to maybe go hook up with a redhead in Santa Fe. Bob hated writing in school because he hated the physical act of putting pen to paper. By the time he was forced to write for work, however, computers had come along, a godsend. One dumb slip of the pen no longer required rewriting a whole page. Bob became the go to guy for first rate presentations, rewrote all the crappy reports so-called professionals routinely mangled, and was promoted to resident smart-ass (i.e. the one who thought up all the clever sayings on going-away plaques).

Bob also became the family lawyer who out-researched and out-wrote professional lawyers with a 7 to 0 kill ratio. He swept women off their feet with nothing more than an Apple Mac and a couple sheets of paper. And he discovered he was a like a radio receiver. He’d sit down at the computer and ideas flowed from nowhere about anything he thought about. He especially likes satire and sarcasm . . . and hypocrites.

Well, the save-the-world book is being rewritten yet again thanks to quantum physics coming up with new crap all the time. The redhead moved to Colorado . . . with $5000 of Bob’s music gear. (Men are idiots.) And Bob’s idiot family pretty much self-destructed financially at the same time Bob’s margin got called. So he has to actually work for a living instead of writing full time. Luckily, it’s in Saudi Arabia where they don’t like to work so averages a 6.5 hour day . . . and there is nothing else to do but write. Questions?

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