The Bob

It’s already established that I’m middle aged and fairly boring. So it’ll be no surprise that I’m a fan of Bob Ross. Not so much the paintings as the man and the show itself. Bob is a human narcotic and the show is a warm bath (to slit your wrists in), from the opening with him and baby woodland creatures to the joy he takes cleaning his brushes “beating the devil out of them”. When I was in high school there was a rumor going around that he was a marine in Viet Nam and did a lot of killing, something snapped and he became what you see on T.V. I don’t know if that’s true but I kind of hope it is. Anyhow, we’ll watch it every so often and when we do we’ll imbue it with a drama that isn’t there.
“It’s done, the painting is done. Stop it.” “he better stop, it’s gonna be too crowded.” “Not another goddamn happy tree, stop it already.” “Is that a stream? What the hell is that?” “Christ, it’s mess, how many goddamn tree’s is he gonna put in.” “Well, that actually works, well done.” “Why did we ever doubt him.” “The Bob is good, the Bob is great.”     

bob

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