Thought of the Day
Posted: December 21, 2008 Filed under: thoughts Leave a comment »Morals are meters our consciences use to gauge our own self image, nothing more.
bob’s last words
Posted: October 1, 2004 Filed under: poetry Leave a comment »I travel in the darkness
so I can eat my pie
I travel in the light
so I can see the lie
The lion and the jackal
are at odds with nature
I gaze at the past
while I eat the future
I am neither buried nor cold
dead or beaten
I am yours no more
Bob Holmes (1948-2004)
Posted: June 2, 2004 Filed under: thoughts Leave a comment »The earliest memory in my life is sitting in a lifeguard booth between my Dad and his partner, wearing my Dad’s lifeguard hat. And I think figuratively, I’ve been trying to wear his hat my entire life.
In the 70s, I saw my father as Officer Jim Street from the TV show SWAT. Jumping over fences and chasing bad guys. In the 80s I saw him as Spenser: For Hire, a tough private eye character from books and television. His favorite movie was The Magnificent Seven. These were tough men that I could never be. And because of that, I always saw myself as a disappointment to my father.
Then, about ten years ago, I drove across the country to get away from the old man. Through a bunch of circumstances, I fell into his line of business. And you know what? Ten years later, I’m doing what my Dad does. And I’m as good as him.
Last year, after my sister’s wedding, we were at a bar and Bob ordered up his usual for himself and for me; a shot of Cuervo and a bottle of Heineken. I lifted my shot glass, and I said, “To my hero.” He lifted his and said, “To mine.” That was my defining moment. I knew that I had gained my father’s respect. That’s all I ever wanted.
There were a few people my father considered his heroes:
His first hero was his father Loren Holmes. His father’s special name for him was “Robbie”. After Loren died when Bob was only ten, Bob instructed everyone to call him “Bobby” because the other name died with his father. Most everybody has called me Robbie my entire life. My father always told me that that name was a piece of his father that he saved to give to his first son.
His best friend’s father, Al Ganary, was a father to him until Al’s passing about ten years ago. Besides of course the daily joy Bob had with his loved ones, the last real good time my father had was at a thing called “Bad Boys Weekend”. This was one weekend a year he and his life-long friends Dave Ganary and Roy Bergey set aside to celebrate the life of their father figure Al Ganary and the bond they all had.
His big brothers Ted and Bub were immortal gods to him; men who couldn’t be harmed or die.
The person he admired most was his mother Mildred. All my life, it was his mother he held up as his example of strength. Not to mention, Bob always said that she had the greatest detective mind that he had ever encountered.
My song to my father is a song Bruce Springsteen wrote to his father. Even though he was a grown man, he still looks to his father in order to know how to walk like a man.
“Walk Like a Man” by Bruce Springsteen
I remember how rough your hand felt on mine on my wedding day
And the tears cried on my shoulder I couldn’t turn away
Well so much has happened to me that I don’t understand
All I can think of is being five years old following behind you at the beach tracing your footprints in the sand
Trying to walk like a manBy our lady of the roses we lived in the shadow of the elms
I remember ma draggin’ me and my sister up the street to the church whenever she heard those wedding bells
Well would they ever look so happy again the handsome groom and his bride
As they stepped into that long black limousine for their mystery ride
Well tonight you step away from me and alone at the alter I stand
And as I watch my bride coming down the aisle I pray for the strength to walk like a manWell now the years have gone and I’ve grown from that seed you’ve sown
But I didn’t think there’d be so many steps I’d have to learn on my own
Well I was young and I didn’t know what to do
When I saw your best steps stolen away from you
Now I’ll do what I can
I’ll walk like a man
And I’ll keep on walkin’
making music in the desert tonight
Posted: November 1, 1994 Filed under: poetry Leave a comment »making music in the desert tonight
nowhere to run and theres no one in sight
banging my drum real fast and hard
if i hit it any harder it will fall apart
theres no winners or losers this far out
aint barely nothing to think about
nowhere to go for hundreds of miles
i havent eaten for quite a while
cant tell the day from the night anymore
dont even know what im looking for
hungry for love and im hungry for food
i dont know why im such a hungry dude
ive been floating in this raft out here in the sea
im shooting a flare no one can see
i can look for miles and cant see a boat
this raft is my castle and the sea is my moat
the lion down the hall
Posted: October 1, 1994 Filed under: poetry Leave a comment »i got locked out one night when no one was home
i must have misplaced my key so ill spend the night alone
a painting of a lion standing proud and tall
fiercely smiled at me and dared me through the hall
doors open and doors close as I stagger down the hall
no one wants to let me in to feel safe within their walls
each room is dark and cold, yet id die to go inside
when they come to hunt me down, ive got nowhere to go and hide
i might outrun them for a while but someday id have to sleep
and theyll be right in back of me. im the meal they’ve longed to eat
I close my eyes, my body shakes, i take off down the hall
i see my goal, my eyes are set on the lion down the hall
my heart is pounding as i reach the golden frame
the panthers are behind me but the picture’s not the same
the lion got real hazy but the picture’s gotten clearer
i must be fucking crazy, all along it was a mirror
i could have the strength to win this fight
if i die, I’ll die proud
so i turned and lashed with all my might
with my mighty roar aloud
all my life i faced my fears and felt so weak and small
while all that time I never knew the lion down the hall
im in a dark little room
Posted: October 1, 1994 Filed under: poetry Leave a comment »im in a dark little room and there’s no one i can see
someone else is in here. i wish i could see
i feel the walls and cant find a door
i scream for myself as a curl up on the floor
as he circles my space my fear smells sweet
hes so cold and quiet yet i can feel his heart beat
i screamed in vain til my throat was sore
in his quiet candor i could feel him want more
i dont know this man but i have all my life
hes slashing my soul with his big sharp knife
if i knew him, id hate myself
ive always wished he was someone else
i really can’t wait for this night to end
im scared to death of my ugly friend
if i kill him, he will kill me
id kill myself and then id be free
this heart is torn
Posted: April 1, 1994 Filed under: poetry Leave a comment »this heart is torn
between what’s been and what is now
a lifetime of mistakes
and good memories dictates my thoughts
the meshing together of your life with mine
is a tough challenge and gives me great hope
the future is brighter
than the past could have been
we’ll make it there together
and we’ll be there forever
my heart beats
Posted: April 1, 1994 Filed under: poetry Leave a comment »my heart beats
because he has no choice
So strong and
yet he makes no noise
He relentlessly pumps
with undying devotion
He gives life
and puts my body in motion
He doesn’t really work
He doesn’t even try
but he never gives up
and ill never know why
if i love with my heart
and let my mind go free
i’ve no need to hear,
to smell or to see
my heart is crazy
my blood runs wild
my passions unbound
in the mind of a child
my heart, he makes
some tough decisions
which no one can do
with foresight and vision
carry me through the heavy snow
Posted: April 1, 1994 Filed under: poetry Leave a comment »carry me through the heavy snow
im afraid of the cold
im afraid of the cold
when youre tired and have to put me down
it will still be cold
hold my hand through the misty night
im afraid of the dark
im afraid of the dark
day will pass and it will be nigth again
it will still be dark
talk to me when i feel alone
im afraid of the silence
im afraid of the silence
sooner or later, you will have to leave
it will still be silent
feed me on this christmas day
im afraid to go hungry
im afraid to go hungry
next year, christmas will come again
i will still be hungry
i burn in the cold
see in the dark
hear the silence
eat the hunger
you help me and ill never get strong
when you are with me, im nothing but alone
the nightmares deep inside of me
Posted: April 1, 1994 Filed under: poetry Leave a comment »the nightmares deep inside of me
aren’t really all that bad
there’s not much in this dreamful mind
to make this grown man sad
i’ve fought with demons
i’ve stepped on satan’s toes
ive had bad luck on my side
when ive had plenty to lose
this man can be a demon
when he really wants to be
this guy’s a god damned lunatic
when he sets his true self free
im not about to let them say
what my life should do
i know some day ill shut them up
when i make my dreams come true
i joged the path that took me here
although it was on fire
there’s no way to get me down
because each breath takes me higher
