My dad, Bob, died way too young—just 50 years old—after being diagnosed with ALS at 48. That kind of grief hits you like a freight train you didn’t see coming. But what hit me harder, years later, was realizing just how much sense he actually made.
He tried his best to pass on values and a backbone. But bless his heart, he didn’t realize the sheer force of culture that would come for me. See, he was a product of the 1940s and ‘50s—where folks said “yes ma’am,” and looked their neighbors in the eye. I came of age in the whiplash world of the ‘70s and ‘80s, where Madonna was preaching “Express Yourself,” and Cosmopolitan was basically a handbook on how to ignore your instincts in favor of being “liberated.”
Truth be told, I wish I’d listened more to Dad more and less to pop culture’s parade of bad advice dressed in sequins and lip gloss. Virtue got marketed as old-fashioned. And having no morals? That got sold as freedom. Y’all—that was a lie. A polished, pretty, wildly profitable lie.
If I had a time machine and a second chance at those formative years, I’d turn down the volume on the world and lean in to Dad's voice. He was trying to teach me something sacred. And Lord knows, I finally get it.
As for my website name? I picked SorryBob.com in honor of my dad. The name Bob is plain, simple, and as old as white on rice. And sorry, Bob—but this girl had to fall on her face a few times before she stood up with a clear head and a clear heart. I think Dad would be relieved to see that I finally see what he meant.
Because here’s the thing:
We are all worthy of happiness.
But real happiness isn’t handed to us.
It’s earned through freedom.
And freedom? That starts with courage.
And courage? It shows up when you finally start believing in yourself.
That’s the real circle of life, y’all.
These days, we’ve got wolves in self-help clothing. Exploiters selling “empowerment” while robbing us blind of our dignity. They don’t want us free—they want us frazzled, dependent, divided, and distracted.
My daddy believed in community—not disunity. He didn’t live long enough to see the internet, but I believe—if we use it right—it can be the most powerful tool for good since the printing press. It can unite people who care. People who dare. People who see what’s going on.
And I believe we’re those people.
So, here are Eight Things I’ve Learned (Usually the Hard Way):
Apathy limits opportunity; awareness and action limit the opportunists.
Knowledge is power—but only if you use it.
Actions speak louder than posts (and words).
Keep it simple, unless you're trying to confuse and control people—then by all means, complicate it to death.
Chase dogs (the four pawed and loyal kind) and dreams, not people.
The only free cheese is in a mousetrap.
You teach people how to treat you.
Choose happiness—not helplessness.
And to the Happiness Hijackers out there? We see you. And we’re coming with grace, grit, and good boots.
