Bob Cairns
Okay, it’s your call but know that this is written by a frustrated writer who, having been through every aspect of the publishing business, is taking his last shot at entertaining an audience.
In defense of this effort I’ll be blogging, airing out just a few more random observational thoughts—stories---that just might encourage laughter, reading, writing and reminiscing.
Okay, admittedly there are 600 million blogs worldwide and 32.7 million bloggers in the U.S. But couldn’t we scooch over and make room for just one more?
I refer here to my bio.
https://www.pastpageturners.com/bobs-bio
So, books fiction and nonfiction published by St Martin’s, numerous pieces in national magazines, Sports Illustrated, TV GUIDE, served as a speech writer for NC State University’s Chancellor.
But, if the above credits appear to be a writer’s brag, it came with writer’s sweat and my share of rejections.
The method in my madness with Bob’s, Oh No Not Another Blog is actually pretty self-serving: it’s time for me to get over myself and share some of the joys that I’ve been privileged to have had in this writing process.
Hopefully your writing has taken you there, too.
There’s research, interviews, organizing the gathering of quotes, etc., all a part of the process that kept me entertained and so busy. And then there’s the one-on-one with the people doing some really interesting interviews.
Should you kindly read my blog I’ll share some of my writing experiences with you, many came from the hundreds of personality pieces I wrote for magazines and books. Feature stories and personality pieces can be a goldmine---from a World Champion Rodeo Bull rider who worried more about the highway miles logged from one rodeo to another than being hurled from the back of a 2,000-pound bull, to a medical doctor who had saved lives at NASCAR races. How about all those Hall of Fame baseball and basketball players---the astronauts and Five Star Generals? Then there was Mariner Moose, the Seattle Mariners mascot who duked it out with drunken fans that kept bopping him on his antlered head on Bat Night. And the winner of the North Carolina Hollerin’ contest, a man who sat with me one evening on a bench by the NC State belltower and sang/hollered “Amazing Grace” in a pitch perfect tenor voice.
This writer’s blog will share some of my childhood reminiscences---from baseball to “behavior.” The ones called Pet Smart, about Mr. Bones, my unbroken forty-dollar donkey, and my nine pet ducks named for the NY Yankees are favorites.
But the memory bank remains open, so I won’t forget my readers when I experience something current, a blog feature called Daily Doings, little events that I find of interest/zany and feel compelled to share.
Okay, here’s one. Recently there was this lady at Costco who stopped me as I trundled down an aisle pushing a cart with one of those bad wheels. This shopper actually took time out of her BOGO day to suggest (I didn’t know her and she was not even an employee) that I obviously didn’t have the faintest idea of how to select and or pack a grocery cart. She said, and I quote, “Sir, your left front wheel is out of line and you happen to be crushing your fresh bread with those beer cases so if you don’t mind, I’d like to repack your cart.” Taken aback, I stood back. She did do a marvelous job on the repack, and I thanked her kindly and limped off with my three-wheeled buggy, noting with some pleasure that her cart contained a pallet-sized purchase of DEPENDS.
Back on point, after spending the last five decades claiming that I’d never self-publish, my New York Literary Agency closed its doors. I now find myself in my electronic DO IT YOURSELF years. So from time to time---I’ll shamelessly also promote my blog, websites and books!
By the way keep an eye out on Amazon and Ingram for Bob’s latest books: The Inn: Memoir of a “Storied” Past, where a kid grows up in a historic inn and learns to be a relentless storyteller; a basketball novel, Dear Coach, Dear Benchie, where a former coach and player relive their relationship through a series of letters; the novel, Driving Mr. Crazy, a chase story with a beautiful redhead behind the wheel of a semi-trailer laced with drugs and a nerd passenger holding on for dear life; and Balls of Ivy, a Kentucky horse-racing, action-packed whodunit.
Speaking of Bob’s Books for a reminiscent read at a reasonable price simply go to The Inn: Memoir of a “Storied” Past at http://amazon.com/author/bob_cairns_books.com. You’ll find me and a life packed with stories and people with genuine characters.
Now, that we’ve put the commerce to bed every blog needs a tease so, just for fun, I’ll kick things off here with some mildly outrageous offerings, promoting a regular Oh No feature that I’m simply calling…
BRUSHES WITH THE RICH AND FAMOUS!
The fact is that I was the guy who pissed off John Denver. Wasn’t I the one who slipped a fastball past Joe DiMaggio to get an autograph that he normally charged $300 for? Didn’t I have the hutzpah to ask Bob Hope to read a joke I’d written. Wasn’t I threatened with a bogus law suit by Jim Bouton, the author of the bestselling book Ball Four? Don’t I have a framed letter from Steve Allen saying I’d made him laugh? How about the one where I (a busboy) was fired by Wolfie, the man who gave Martin and Lewis, their first job at the 500 Club in Atlantic City, NJ. Didn’t Ed Asner, after reading one of my outrageous stories, ask if that was in my F-ing book and then wrote a glowing dustjacket blurb for my book Stories I Couldn’t Tell Until My Mother Died?
Did George Steinbrenner send me a Yankees cap and jacket after seeing me cartooned as a Yankee on a baseball gum card with one of my articles in Sports Illustrated?
Wasn’t it Charlie Rose who resentfully dismissed me (a ghost writer for a book for the Head of the U.S. Joint Chiefs of Staff) as an acolyte? Didn’t I have the Chutzpah to ask Bert Parks, lifelong host of the Miss America Pageant, for an interview at a celebrity golf tournament while the poor man was finishing up at a urinal in a public restroom? Wasn’t it Richard Petty who pulled up after a photo shoot and offered to drive if the attractive photographer and I wanted to run off together? Did I let it slip in an interview with Arnold Palmer that I had a hole-in-one with a 15-wood, a woman’s club called a Large Marge? Oh, and who was that guy constantly name dropping, telling anyone with two ears about being great friends with Norman Steinberg, the man who co-wrote Blazing Saddles with Mel Brooks?
Oh, gee, that was me!
Undoubtably all of the above brushes and many more in more detail will find their way as features into these catch-all Oh No blogs.
So, although this miscellaneous blog may appear to be kind of out there, my aim is simply to entertain, maybe make my case for winding up the old writing career on my terms while bumping that international blog number up to a nifty six-hundred-million and ONE.
Bob Cairns and his fun-filled Oh No blog will be attempting to (with his other writing projects) help raise funds to benefit the V Foundation for Cancer Research.
Andrew Lackey, V Foundation for Cancer Research
14600 Weston Parkway, Cary, NC 27513
Phone: 919-443-3574
The Blogs
Blog Alert. Updated Periodically!
So many stories and so much time. A self-confessed livelong ear bender, as I mentioned in my homepage, I will try to make these Oh No blogs a mix---including daily observations---everything from that little tale about the lady volunteer repacking my grocery cart that I dropped on the homepage to stories I’ve gathered over the years.
In my defense three of my books have been “story” books---Pen Men---Baseball’s Greatest Bull Pen Stories Told By The Men Who Brought The Game Relief; Stories I Couldn’t Tell Until My Mother Died; and V&Me “Everybody’s Favorite Jim Valvano Story.”
Carny Capers
Back in the 1950s, during the second week of June, New Windsor, Maryland, presented its inhabitants with a canvas that would have made Norman Rockwell pack his paints and brushes and taken up residence in this little country municipality.
Hope Springs Eternal
A number of my fondest memories come equipped with mementoes—the ball that Ted Williams signed as I followed him all the way to his cab outside Washington’s old Griffith Stadium, the ball Sandy Koufax tossed to my 8-year-old son during batting practice in Dodger Town, in Vero Beach, Florida.
Aging Gracefully
Having blogged something called The I Can Almost Reach It Years, I’d like to take one more swing at aging. I’m trying here not to ignore limping, poor eyesight, frequent day-naps, hearing, chewing, insomnia, dark moods and other baggage that accompanies the latter years.
Shill and Jungle
CarTTalk was always up to something. And one of our biggest scores was wheedling our way---during baseball’s spring training---into the annual Red Sox charity golf tournament in Fort Myers, Fla.
Ocean City '60s
Recently I was reminded of days gone by when the world was so much smaller and less complicated. I’ve always had a love for nostalgia and frankly most of the pieces that I ended up writing were reminiscences for magazines like Sports Illustrated, TV GUIDE, and Field & Stream.
Bob Cairns Calling!
Oh, how I miss our old secretary, Joan! When I or anyone else in the office happened to get a phone call while seated on the john, she would beat on the men’s room door and shout, “Hey, Bob, you got a phone call!”
How’s Your Dog?
I don’t know about you but I’m a real softy when it comes to my pets. I’ll be blogging here regarding a childhood history featuring a menagerie that included everything from dogs, hamsters, parakeets, turtles, rabbits, goldfish, to nine ducks named after the New York Yankees and a $40 (unbroken) donkey named Mr. Bones.
Recognition from Greatness
I don’t know how I missed Bill Bryson in my home page’s tease Brushes With The Rich and Famous.
He’s my all-time favorite writer, a great guy and unbeknownst to him blessed me with a bloggable story for this Oh, No effort of mine.
T-Time For V
NC State upset North Carolina in March of 2024, ending a five-game historic run to win an Atlantic Coast Conference basketball tournament championship. I had to be the only fan--- cheering wildly at my TV, polishing off beers---who was thinking baseball!
Up Close
Speaking of brushes with the rich and famous. I had my Andy Warhol 15-minutes when I appeared on ESPN’S Up Close with seven-time award winner, Roy Firestone. Am I bragging here? No, although it’s been 32 years, I was scared skinny then and remain terrified today at that years ago memory.
Frankly Speaking
Here’s one that PGA golf pro Vance Heafner loved to tell. This was early in Heafner’s journeyman career on the PGA golf tour and the first year that the PGA awarded individual trophies for achievements in various categories (the most eagles, birdies, pars, etc., in sanctioned tournaments).
Julia Says
My grandmother Roop, who managed to birth and raise nine children, excused her little wise acres by simply saying, “Oh, they’re just at that age!”
Put A Lid On It
I’ve always been “blessed” with a memory that kicks in at, shall we say, an unfortunate time.
First Impression
One of the first stories I wrote was called: “I’ll Grow Up to be a Gum card” And frankly I was searching for approval but I didn’t know what to do with it, who I might ask to read it.
Praise for Steve Allen
When writing for magazines I got a number of letters. They, invariably were not singing my high praises but telling me how they related to the subject matter or the person interviewed in the piece.
Critics’ Choice
Ask most writers about reviews and critics and they will either air out praise---what the New York Times said about they’re latest book--- or quote Brendan Behan, who once famously said, “Critics are like eunuchs in a harem; they know how it's done; they've seen it done every day, but they're unable to do it themselves.”
Wedding Day
Here’s one a friend of mine would certainly love to wish back. We were coming home from a round of golf when I suddenly said, “Hey, I’ve got to stop at the grocery store and buy some flowers!”
Shrink Wrapped
To honor my wonderful mother, I’ll kick off the blog with one of my favorites. During her mid-nineties, Julia was living in a nursing home and having some issues with depression. And no wonder. She’d fallen and broken her hip and following the operation couldn’t walk or dress herself so she was forced into one of those horrible Catch-22s----way too alert to relate with her fellow hall mates, not physically able to live with those younger minds housed in assisted living.
The I Can Almost Reach It Years
Here’s a thought that a younger reader might find amusing. Yes, even the young have heard of the Golden Years. Well, I’m here to tell them and to confirm to all my fellow geriatrics that even though we all know that this time in our lives beats the alternative, that there isn’t necessarily gold in “them thar hills.”