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Getting there!

Mountainous THANKS to everyone who’s helped with this hair-raising, mo-fun-than-some-fundraiser! We are at $915!!! Let’s take this to a cool grand for Rog.

$85 and counting…

If you are waiting for the right time to go over to the Movember Foundation website and donate, this is it.

There was a great response to the Mailchimp and post last night. Turns out people give a shit on Giving Tuesday! Wonderful news! Facts no longer matter for our elected officials, but people give a shit about men’s health! Splendid!

What would ol’ Roger-dodger think of all this political madness?



Hit the target

These blog posts are descending into Facebook-like blasts of non-sense. And I don’t like that. I hope you know that. I’m sure you do. If I had started this bloggery for the purpose of re-purposing Facebook posts, nobody would be interested in that.

It started with some gusto. For Movember. For Dad. For remembering. For writing.

It felt good to get a few things off my chest, to let fly, to let go and make mistakes and admit things that I wouldn’t usually… but hell, that stuff is then out there. Out in the ether of the interwebs. Public. And who knows… maybe it would be taken out of context, maybe a bout of humor would be taken as hurtful to someone or unprofessional. Everyone has to be professional nowadays. People are very sensitive, too. Sometimes for good reason. Other times, I’m not always sure. Hard to imagine how other peoples’ shoes pinch if you’ve never walked a Swedish mile in them.

(Sidenote: the hot laptop battery on my legs causes me pain. A strange pain. I really don’t like it. Does anyone else get that?)

So if I’m tired (like now), hell if I want to write something on the edge just to “write something that scares me.” I want to fulfill my obligation to myself and get back to my book or something relaxing like that. But no…

I really want to leave Facebook actually. Read an article recently that said I should. You can read an article that will tell you to do anything these days. But this one had some sense. I won’t regurgitate it all, but suffice to say that said FB is a time suck. And they quoted Steve Martin in it when asked about the beginning of his career and how he made it work, he said, “be so good that they can’t hate you” or something of the sort.

Let’s be honest, Facebook is a lot of mediocre thoughts crafted on toilet seats for people that don’t really care but read it all anyway. A lot of a little. That’s not all it is, but it’s a lot of that.  Maybe it’ll be good for digestion and/or bowel movember worldwide (men’s health?). I’m sure you could read an article that tells you people spend an avg. of 5 mintes more on the toilet these days because they are on their phones, on Tinder, on Facebook, crafting a crushing Tweet or cropping an epic Insta post.

Ahh. I already feel better that I took the time to develop a thought in mildly lucid prose. And this is exactly why I wanted to do this post-a-day madness. To hit a target (and miss to know what it feels like) and spread some good words… not just words for words sake.  They aren’t words good enough so Steve Martin wouldn’t dislike me (is he on Facebook?), but better than a photo dump or two sentences of mild import.

In other news, the royal we hit the target of $500 dollars raised for Movember this year. Ooorah! Now with a week left, let’s see if we can’t double that and his $1,000. Hell, go for gold.

Check out my page here.

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Last call…

“Last year on November 11 I called my father for Veteran’s Day, as I usually did. He would reluctantly admit that he had served his country, but not much else. In addition to the usual goings on in “river city,” we shared mustache growing stories. This would be his second year in a row participating in Movember. He didn’t really get it because he always had a ‘stache, but he humored us and did it for men’s health. That was the last time I spoke to him. I’m doing Movember again this year (for the fourth year in a row), but it’s more of a personal journey this time. I don’t have the energy to shout about how you should give money. I’m doing it for dad. I’m doing it for health. Give if you like. Or just watch your health. Get a check up. Be happy. Love. Live it up. Life’s short.”


*I wrote this Nov. 18, 2014, for Facebook. Seemed wrong to hide away there. Same with the photos below. According to the penciled note on the back, they were taken in Hampton Beach, 1963. 




Veterans, write it down

img_7871It’s Veteran’s Day and I’d be remiss not to talk about my grandfather, Forrest Kinsley Bunten, a Marine in World War II. A tough nut to crack, gramps made life seem hard.

When dad got back from Vietnam, he got dropped in Atlanta where he bought a Triumph motorcycle (we think that was the make) and rode it straight to Orford. Story goes he barely stopped, arriving with bugs in his teeth and raw skin on his forehead from piling through the rain. Charlotte Huntington, one of his friends at the time, remembers it like this:

Rog said his mother hugged the living daylights outta him and was so excited …his Dad was in the barn and Rog went out and his Dad just said, “Hello, son” and went back to milking. Rog said that was two words more than he usually got from him.

Neither my father or his talked about the wars much. Both started to do so before
they died, but only in spurts. I remember Forrest coming out with a photo of him in Okinawa behind a double bass. He’d played in a jazz band there, supposedly. We knew he played the sousaphone, but the double bass was such a surprise. I’ll find that shot in due course.

Rog said he was real happy to be home in Orford & felt the Marine stint had served him well. He had no clue what to do with his life at 18. Just wanted someone to tell him what to do, when to do it and how.


Dad always seemed pretty ambivalent about his experience to me, but then again, he never put much verbiage behind it. He sure didn’t like seeing any sort of violence, though…

We played this one at Dad’s funeral at the Mt. Philo Inn. Forrest loved the song, too.



*** Looking to donate to the 2016 Movember campaign, raising funds and awareness for men’s health? Go here and give all you can — help stop men dying too young. 


Rocked off the wagon


Hello from Canada!

While everyone was sitting around waiting for the Canuck immigration site to come back online, I took the opportunity to grow a dirt-smear, handlebar crumb catcher, grab a 12-rack of Lablatt cans and head north. (Movember is so much more than just men’s health. It’s also about finding the appropriate country for political asylum.)

Photo on 11-10-16 at 22.00 #2.jpg

They barely asked for my passport at the border, eh. Just shotgunned a can of “blue” while humming “God Save the Queen” and they were convinced I was local.

Got a job at Casino de Montreal as a greeter and am planning some collaboration with these funny fuckers.

Quebec trumps hate.



work hard in silence


Work hard…